Desolation of Chalkulust!
Having decoded the ancient Schmodex, our gallant cyber crime fighters, the Starchasers, shared a collective fist pump as they coasted towards Fort Johnathan for some much needed dance derby. Suddenly the fleet receive a subspace transmission from StarCom notifying them of the origins of the mysterious RIFT! (*Gasp*)
Through the miracle of a sea beast destroying half the laboratory, StarCom had determined that the RIFT was the result of Chalkulust, an eight eyed sea beast, busting some major ass that ripped a hole between its dimension and ours. The result was excessive radiation, pomegranates, and the unfathomable need to draw with chalk! (*Double Gasp*)
Our sexy pilots downed their monstrous energy potions, set their thrusters to thunder thighs, and directed course toward the Leviathan Ghost Temple. There, it was hoped, the mystical Squid Oracle could be summon for guidance! (*Faints*)
(*Slap*) Wake up you! It's not time for sleep, it's time for the Desolation of Chalkulust!
As our battalion approached the blackhole, palms tight on our helms, we dove straight into the turbulent roller coaster; homogenizing our once steel bones to stale jello before crash landing in front of the hallowed Ghost Template, where we were immediately greeted by the Squid Oracle!
"How'd you know we were coming?" we asked her.
"I'm a Oracle, dummies." the Squid replied.
The Squid Oracle spoke frank and quickly, warning of an approaching hoard of tribal natives before telling us that if we wished to defeat Chalkulust then we had to summon Poseidon for assistance. It would be the only way to circumnavigate the Netherworld without injury and locate the mineral mammoth undetected. Then, with a shake of the tentacle, our cephalopodian guru cast open a time portal, saying we had to return to the past in order to obtain the proper offering for Lord Neptune.
"What offering would that be?" we hollered as the native's war drums grew louder.
"Don't yell," said the Squid, "I ain't deaf."
Suddenly we were sucked into the swirling funnel, the heat of tribal torches on our backs, and, before realizing so, were back within the New Beige Starsystem.
But what about the offering mentioned by the Squid Oracle?
Will our un-caped crusaders figure it out in time to defeat Chalkulust?
All that and more, after this message: http://youtu.be/XjzBpJ1XYwc
Having found our way back to New Beige Starsystem, yet still puzzled over what sufficed as an offering for our Yeaman of the Fish, I (your bearded narrator, Walden P. James) whipped out a T.U.N.A. (Tastey Utility Nutrition Apparatus) and attempted to snack while we brainstormed. But no sooner as I broke the tin Hyman did our ships began to rumble, as if being pulled with tremendous force. Sure enough, we soared at a speed unmeasurable and found ourselves in the presence of Poseidon!
"Gimme that T.U.N.A..." grumbled the waterlogged Titian.
"Sure thing, brah," replied our collective gaggle of Starchasers, handing him the slightly opened can.
As he shoved the vinegary contents into his facehole with one hand, Poseidon took his trident with his other and slammed it onto what appeared to be empty, black space before it began to crack around us like glass. The air splintering, the ground crumbling, and us: a cyclone of shards toward the Nether world.
Will our Starchasers survive their fate?
Find out after these messages: http://youtu.be/Scp2TtAWjLg
Time was absent here. The ground was covered in bones. It smelt like pee. Alien life forms exploded in large displays of confetti; the bits tumbling in an orange glow before becoming dinner for the demonic rodents below. It wore thick, whatever it was, like some heavy ocean. How slowly things could move and still be called moving. Yet moving we did. Grumbah, and we kept moving.
The weight lifted once we reached the shore, black waves splashing upon the black sands. Ghosts of space leviathans hovered past us, illuminating a pale blue path behind them, leading to a high ledge.
We managed our way to the top. Where did they go, the leviathans? All we found were ancient paintings on the crags and the words,
"Here Be Davey's Locker.
All Lost Are Now Found.
All Lost Are Now Home."
What will become of our sexy space pilots?
More after the break: http://youtu.be/6RvyFFjP7RE
Finding our way out from the Nether, Civi's StarNav picked up a strong chalky presence not far from our current location. With spaghetti western themes blasting in our minds, hearts, and butts, we charged to our destination. Little did we know Chalkulust could smell our posi for miles and new of our approach, so it struck first; knocking our thrusters with its claws, chomping at our lasers, and rat tailing with its flipper!
Just when Chalkulust believed to hold certain victory, letting its guard down and coming into extremely close proximity to our battalion for the final chew. But just as Chalkuwho began to sink its teeth around us, Ashera engaged our secret defense beacon, shinning so brightly it blinded all of the creature's eight eyes, causing it to plummet to the ground. Without wasting a second, we surround the chalky husk and fired our proton packs at full force. In a manner of minutes, Chalkulust was in a semi-permanent asphalt stasis.
We took photographic evidence, stabilized the defense beacon around the RIFT and quarantined the beast's stasis area; guaranteeing if we do see our Colossal friend again, it wouldn't be for some time. As we wiped the chalk from our space suites, setting course for our eager return to Fort Johnathan, I couldn't help wondering what else had Chalkulust brought with it? What other surprises awaited beyond the cosmos ...and for the STARCHASERS?!
End Transmission. Roll Credits: http://youtu.be/IluRBvnYMoY