#vorax

Vorax

Stairway to Hell. - Alpha 0.4

Challenge #03575-I286: Pax Libum

Several Humans decide to take on the CHALLENGE! They are invited to a Vorax ship, promised that if it did not work out, they would be let go, and not eaten, THIS TIME. The challenge? Feed a ship of hungry Vorax with foods so calorie dense that even a VORAX doesn't feel hungry anymore. This is Vlogging Gold! And no more hungry Vorax? Bonus! -- Anon Guest

"Welcome once more to What Stonkers You, where two mad chefs take on the challenge of feeding the entire universe until they ask for a doggie bag."

"This one is the extreme edition folks! We're coming to you from the heart of the Vorax Raider Vessel H'ach'nach, which I believe translates to Stab and eat."

"But we're not worried. We've got cheeses on our side." The first chef, Dane, opened a large container that was overloaded with wheels upon wheels of cheese. "If you want calorie dense, you can't go much past cheese."

Challenge #03234-H325: Warrior's Honour

"Not like this... NOT LIKE THIS! If I'm going out I'm taking you bastards with me!"

They fly their small, damaged, fighter, the nuclear engine warning of imminent detonation, toward the large hulking warship. It'd been a massive firefight as they defended the escape of the civilians from the raiders.

They awakened in an ICU drawer recovering from radiation poisoning and major injuries. And a military commander's face congratulating them on a job well done. -- Anon Guest

Some lay down their lives for glory. Some for love. Many, so that some rich bastard can get what they were otherwise forbidden. Oh, they're told they're fighting for their nation. For parentals. For a common but tasty peasant dish. For a common sporting passtime. They're never told what they're really fighting for, or they wouldn't fight at all.

Par was fighting for five more minutes. Ze was flying an antiquated nuclear hulk that leaked air. Hir livesuit had maxed out the rads shielding ten minutes ago. Ze was going to die and ze knew it. It didn't matter, as long as everyone else got away.

This wasn't for vainglory. It wasn't for honour. It was so that one more evacuation transit got through the wormhole and the flakk away from the raiding Vorax fleet. There would be no statues, no songs. Just the buzzing click of the geiger counter ticking away towards Par's certain death. Which, if ze didn't become a brief star in the darkness, would be weeks after ze returned to civilisation. The fact that there would be a civilisation to return to was why ze was in this hulk in the first place.

It had a taste, this journey, a taste of Vorax, holding open the passage. Gluttony and avarice, aye, but oh! There was the pride, the Staccian pride, that had forged its own path in making this fierce alliance. Tanaros felt the strength that poured forth from the Staccian, the courage and costly dedication, amplified by the Helm of Shadows. He could have wept, for undervaluing his cousin Vorax, whose branding echoed his own. 

Vorax

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Vorax

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