Difference between revisions of "Talk:Space Robots!"

Revision as of 23:35, 10 June 2008

what is needed is the 6 visits that you make to susan(3 visits before you fight the bots and 3 visits after), how many bots you fight in total on each day, and when new content is added we will need the messages.--Reaper 21:47, 21 February 2008 (MST)

Here is the last (I think) message that Susan says when you wipe out the robots for the third time.- I'm glad you could put a stop to the rampaging robots, yet again. We've got to find a way to stop them, but we've also got to keep our plans going. It's far too late to pretend that we're not here. We're going to keep the gates closed as much as possible to try to reduce the window when anyone might come through, but we've got to keep working on projects up at the station, and we'll let you through whenever you need to go up there.Pandadude 7:30 AM 2/23/08

first message "Susan is visibly shaken when you enter. She says, "We're still trying to figure out what happened, but it's a disaster up there. Earlier today some kind of machinery entered the space station, like a robot with tank treads. Nobody at the space station thought much of it initially, but the thing is, we didn't send it up from down here. We don't know where it came from. At first the robot seemed to roam around for a bit, like it was scouting the area, especially by the pond. Then some other machinery--this one more like a tall, skinny, and somewhat humanoid robot--came through the portal, and almost instantly attacked the treaded robot."

"Most of the people aboard the station quickly evacuated, while several more robots of each type appeared in the station. The fight swiftly escalated to a serious battle, with the robots tearing each other apart. We've got the the campus police and a volunteer militia of sorts guarding this side of the portal, but so far the robots haven't shown much interest in us or doing anything but fighting each other. We're watching them fight via video uplink. Still, I'm really worried. I don't know anything about these robots: where they came from, what they might do to us, or where it will lead us. But I do know that if we don't put a stop to the fighting they'll tear the space station apart. Can you go up there and try to put a stop to it?"" Matt the vigilante 03:13, 3 March 2008 (MST)

There are also messages when you talk to Susan if you haven't finished with the robots for the day:
How's the fight in the space station going? Have you had any luck putting a stop to the robotic destruction?
--Tarwix 23:01, 4 March 2008 (MST)

The first message on the second day is:

"The robots are back! There's even more of them this time, and they seem to be stronger. I don't think anyone but you can stop them."

and after you defeat the robots you get

"I'm glad you could put a stop to the rampaging robots, again. I'm beginning to think I may have made a terrible mistake. I think activating the portal may have alerted the robots to our presence, and drawn them here. At this point all we can do is prepare ourselves for the worst." Usi 02:45, 5 March 2008 (MST)

Oh, and the journal note after Day 2 is

"All is quiet again in the space station. Again. There's been some damage, but not too much. Again. The continued invasion is very troublesome." Usi 03:00, 5 March 2008 (MST)

After the first day was over, this is what she told me: "I'm glad you could put a stop to the rampaging robots. I'm worried we might have more serious issues to deal with soon, though." Shimmy

After the last fight, it says "Silence. Again, again. You look around, but no more robots seem to be moving anywhere in the space station. Scrap metal and scorch marks and muddy water are all you see. Could that really be the last of them?" Shimmy

Fourth day! Susan told me that: "The robots are back! It's a little different this time. There are more of them, many more. But there seems to be a different set, with greater variety. Still, they're making a complete mess of the space station."

And upon going up there this event's showing up:

Hey, There's Nobody Driving that Canoe!

Your first view when you step through the portal and into the space station is stunning. Where before there had been a handful of robots, or a small mass of them, now there is a swarm. They fill the air, the water, and the ground around the water. Scores of them are fighting each other, and smoking slag piles attest to scores more that have fallen by the wayside. You're suprised to notice that there are still a number of people up here, all of them wearing blue jeans, white shirts, and yellow hard hats. Must be the construction crew trying to patch the worst of the damage and keep the station from disintegrating around the robots.

You brace yourself for yet another impossible fight. Some of these robots seem, if anything, even bigger than the last wave, which nearly finished you off. You're not sure how much more of this you can take. None of the robots really seem to care about you though, and you walk all the way to the central pond without being disturbed. An empty canoe drifts by, and you wonder how it got there. Then, to your amazement, the two paddles start moving, apparently on their own. "Hey!" you shout, even though you're not sure why, "there's nobody driving that canoe!"

Well, maybe it's a robot, you think to yourself under further consideration. You've seen motorized boats, why not a motorized canoe?

Even with this in your mind, you're still a little surprised when a hatch opens in the side of the canoe and a barrage of missiles fly out, demolishing some sort of nearby flying craft. The canoe then spins and starts paddling in the other direction. What really throws you off your stride is it seems to be humming to itself. Before you can stop yourself, you find yourself shouting again, "Hey, there's nobody driving that canoe!"

Oh, wait, robots. Yeah. Robots.

About that time one of the men in yellow hard hats approaches you. He starts to ask a question but then stops and gawks over your shoulder. "Hey!" he shouts, "there's nobody-"

"Yeah," you say, "I know." Shimmy

Again on the fourth day:

More than Meats the Eye

A boat the size of a cruise liner pulls up beside you. A voice echoes from the boat. "Greetings, human. Stay your weapon, I wish to talk."

"You know me?"

"We have seen you fight. For a human, you are surprisingly durable."

"Thanks, I think. What do you want to talk about?"

"The time has come to talk of many things."

"What are you?"

We are Paddlebots, also known as Row-bots, because we row upon the waters. We're from Aquatron, a planet far from Earth."

"Another planet? That's awesome! I mean obvious! The interstellar gates kind of tipped us off, you know."

"Those who fight us are called Fordicons. We must stop them before they destroy your world."

"Yeah, I kind of noticed. The fact that you're not shooting at me is promising, though. Who are you, anyway?"

"I am Alpha Prime, leader of the Paddlebots." A strange whirring and grinding of gears begins, and as you watch the cruise liner transmogrifies ... no, transmutes ... no, transitions (yeah, that's the ticket!) itself into a large bottle of ... "Steak sauce?"

"I am Alpha Prime. I copied this form to blend in with your world."

You stifle a chuckle. "Yeah, I see. Anyway, if you're willing to cooperate, can I help you put the other guys out of commission?"

"We are the only ones who can stop the Fordicons. Humans are weak. We do not wish to harm humans, in fact innocent humans should be protected. Humans must go down the ... hey, are there any stairs around here? A space elevator maybe?"

"Sorry, no."

"Very well. Please go about your business. We will take care of the Fordicons ourselves."

"Fine, have it your way. See if I care."

Shimmy

Doesn't seem to want to stop, eh? Fourth day again.

A Bridge Over Troubled Waters

You see handful of the men in yellow hard hats get trapped under some falling rubble and run to help them. In a few quick moments you have them free, and they run for safety across a metal bridge that spans the river. Strange, you never noticed the bridge before. You're about to cross it, too, when it speaks to you.

"Wait, hero. I would like to talk. I am OmegaTron, leader of the Ford-bots, also known as Wade-bots, because we wade in the rivers and streams."

"Ford-bots? Don't you mean Fordicons?"

"Ha! You've been speaking to Prime, haven't you? He always was the arrogant one. No, we are just Ford-bots, they are the Paddlecons. It's a rivalry we have."

"I'm not sure how to say this, but you sound sort of, uh, rational, for a mortal enemy."

"When you have been warring for as many millenia as I have, you get some perspective. And with a pompous stick in the mud like Prime as an adversary, you have to have a sense of humor."

"But he told me you wanted to destroy our world!"

OmegaTron chuckles. "Look, we don't have any real interest in your world, other than maybe finding a nice stream to dip our toes in now and then. But the lost transporter gate drew the Paddlecons here, and once they came here we had to come, too. I will prepare a projection cube for you. Come back to this place later and my lieutenant, ScarStream, will deliver it to you."

Shimmy

Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnn

Plot Exposition in 60 Seconds

Some sort of aircraft zips out of the sky towards you. In the blink of an eye it twirls and turns in upon itself, and a robot is standing in the place where the aircraft was. "I am ScarStream. I understand you have met Omegatron, our 'leader.'" You can almost hear the quotes around the word. "One day, Omegatron, I will rule, and then you will see what the Fordbots can be."

"Huh?"

"Did I say that out loud? Nevermind. Here's the projection cube that OmegaTron--rackin', frackin', grumble grumble--ordered that I give to you."

The robot drops the cube and leaps into the air. Within seconds he's gone. What a weirdo, you think. But now for the cube. It's a milky translucent material, with a single black button on the top, labeled "PUSH."

You push the button. Light shines from the cube, and what looks like a 3-D movie is projected into the air in front of you. A deep, gravelly voice begins to narrate.

"An ancient world. Full of streams. Two types of robots, living peacefully side by side for millennia. Paddlebots and Ford-bots. Paddlebots row across and down the river, staying mostly out of the water. Ford-bots wade right through, getting plenty wet. Still, for millennia this difference means nothing, and peace rules the land.

"Then, on a day lost in the mists of time, a Fordicon called a Paddlebot a hydrophobic fraidy-bot. Or maybe a Paddlecon called a Wade-bot a 'moss-legged dampwalker.' Nobody can agree how it really started. But everyone agrees that the two factions have been at odds ever since.

"Name-calling escalated to newspaper editorial writing, fanning the flames of intolerance. There were arguments. Then protests. Then peace talks, which seemed promising for a while before a ranking member of the Ford-bots called the leader of the Paddlebots a 'rusty bucket of floating bolts' and the talks broke down. Then war. Then peace talks again for a few millennia. Then more war. Vicious, unending, civil war. Paddler against wader, robot against robot, brother against brother.

"Now their world lies ravaged, blasted. The many streams, from the mightiest of rivers to the daintiest of rills, lie dusty and dry. No bots paddle the waters anymore, no bots wade the barren streams.

"Thousands of years ago the Paddlebots launched a lifeboat of sorts into the emptiness of space, in search of a watery world where they could paddle again in peace. Their flight brought them here, to Earth, a watery paradise, a paddler's dream. But something went wrong during the landing (some whisper it was Fordicon sabotage, some believe it was utter incompetence) and the ship crash-landed in a cataclysmic collision, killing every bot inside and nearly demolishing the entirety of the ship.

Re-activating the portals, even after all this time, called both the Row-bots and the Wade-bots to this place, and now they both vie for control of the first stream either bot has seen for millennia."

Well, that explains things, you think. Kind of.