Broken hunger
"Intervene? Why? They could kill themselves for all I care about." It is not that you care about their condescending tone during this year. Both have always considered you a weird cougar.
"During my entire childhood, I have been bullied by everyone else. For the simple reason that I born with fucking Cougar genes and supposedly The cougars have to be Cartoonish ninjas. Well, guess what? I'm about to become noble after A war scientific career". A smirk comes unconsciously to your lips. They will see. And certainly, they will pay for their actions."
Your career is in good shape and If you play your cards right, you could win the jackpot.
The meeting office standing still with people stop breathing in awe waiting for a mutiny. Or a fashioned duel. Most of the glaring looks are focused on you The new rise star Lieutenant between the two old behemoths. Desiring to know if you take a side or not.
You could see the deception in their feline eyes when you don't. take side. Sam thunders in rage shouting with her powerful deep Tiger's voice:
"Do you think I don't know that you are a drugged piece of shit Skar? How many people we have lost because you were high on the Ambergris in that shit of whale pheromones drug? But I won't remain in silence when My ship is in shatters.
RED ALARM, RED ALARM!!! This is not a simulacrum.
A spectacle of blinding colourful lights freezes everyone just for a second. Until invariably the war protocol takes over the entire personnel. We are under attack.
The plasma's Shields activates automatically deflecting Two infiltrators that return again to their camouflage shielding.
The difference between both Tribes is immense. Both cultures evolved from the old burning remains Of The fallen empire Following the paths of the animals that were used to enhance their DNA.
Octopus ships are lighter and smaller than feline ones. And focused on ambush and stealth and traps. Swarming upon their prey using nasty tricks as mines and blinding technology measures.
Feline ships are bigger faster and with a big kick but aren't as agile and haven't nor stealthily invisible tech.
"And Holly shit. We have been caught up in a nasty ambush."
You run like everyone else to the bridge command in the deck preparing to jump into your own fighting wing squadron and die as there is no way that this ends well you tell to yourself grimly But better dying on combat that being cut off a limb each time while being totally conscious of each scrape and slice of flesh and gore took from your own body. Until a carcass and few organs left them finally your head would be cut off. Executed.
You know it fair well, you have killing several enemies this way. The grim reality of the situation humanity has cornered itself. When you have destroyed absolutely everything around you. You turn to feed your own.
The genetics differences between animalistic enhancements have just added fuel to the fire turning humanity in a total war society with no culture and barely anything else that a bitter hunger. Like a curse spell cast out over the entire Galaxy.
Everyone is in position waiting for the Captain orders with precision a well-oiled mechanism prepared for war.
"During my entire childhood, I have been bullied by everyone else. For the simple reason that I born with fucking Cougar genes and supposedly The cougars have to be Cartoonish ninjas. Well, guess what? I'm about to become noble after A war scientific career". A smirk comes unconsciously to your lips. They will see. And certainly, they will pay for their actions."
Your career is in good shape and If you play your cards right, you could win the jackpot.
The meeting office standing still with people stop breathing in awe waiting for a mutiny. Or a fashioned duel. Most of the glaring looks are focused on you The new rise star Lieutenant between the two old behemoths. Desiring to know if you take a side or not.
You could see the deception in their feline eyes when you don't. take side. Sam thunders in rage shouting with her powerful deep Tiger's voice:
"Do you think I don't know that you are a drugged piece of shit Skar? How many people we have lost because you were high on the Ambergris in that shit of whale pheromones drug? But I won't remain in silence when My ship is in shatters.
RED ALARM, RED ALARM!!! This is not a simulacrum.
A spectacle of blinding colourful lights freezes everyone just for a second. Until invariably the war protocol takes over the entire personnel. We are under attack.
The plasma's Shields activates automatically deflecting Two infiltrators that return again to their camouflage shielding.
The difference between both Tribes is immense. Both cultures evolved from the old burning remains Of The fallen empire Following the paths of the animals that were used to enhance their DNA.
Octopus ships are lighter and smaller than feline ones. And focused on ambush and stealth and traps. Swarming upon their prey using nasty tricks as mines and blinding technology measures.
Feline ships are bigger faster and with a big kick but aren't as agile and haven't nor stealthily invisible tech.
"And Holly shit. We have been caught up in a nasty ambush."
You run like everyone else to the bridge command in the deck preparing to jump into your own fighting wing squadron and die as there is no way that this ends well you tell to yourself grimly But better dying on combat that being cut off a limb each time while being totally conscious of each scrape and slice of flesh and gore took from your own body. Until a carcass and few organs left them finally your head would be cut off. Executed.
You know it fair well, you have killing several enemies this way. The grim reality of the situation humanity has cornered itself. When you have destroyed absolutely everything around you. You turn to feed your own.
The genetics differences between animalistic enhancements have just added fuel to the fire turning humanity in a total war society with no culture and barely anything else that a bitter hunger. Like a curse spell cast out over the entire Galaxy.
Everyone is in position waiting for the Captain orders with precision a well-oiled mechanism prepared for war.