Episode 5: The Cult of Roch

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Stories, The Mandoleer's Folly Series

The command center aboard the Mandoleer’s Folly buzzed with activity as Celine received the urgent call from RCSC Special Operations. Her brow furrowed with concern as she listened to the mission briefing, the gravity of the situation weighing heavy on her shoulders.

 “Attention, crew,” she announced, her voice steady despite the urgency of the situation. “We’ve received intel on the Cult of Roch. They’ve been spotted at a commerce station on the outskirts of the Ontario and Quebec sectors. The station is offline, and we suspect foul play. Our mission is to investigate, rescue any hostages, and neutralize the enemy threat.”

Spacedawg’s heart raced with anticipation as he absorbed the details of the mission. The Cult of Roch was notorious for their ruthless tactics and dark rituals, and the prospect of facing them head-on sent a shiver down his spine.

After completing the preflight check, Spacedawg plotted their course and initiated the lift-off procedures. Despite the recent decrease in pirate activity, Captain Ed remained cautious, assigning Maelstrom and Agent Celine Ebner to conduct reconnaissance in Little Suzy.

The journey proceeded smoothly until they encountered unexpected trouble. Six imposing Imperial cruisers blocked their path, their intentions clear as they demanded the cargo aboard the Mandoleer’s Folly. The tension onboard soared as the crew braced for confrontation, their fingers poised over the ship’s controls.

But their worst fears were realized when a blast struck the Mandoleer’s Folly’s maneuvering thrusters, throwing them off course and sending them careening into the abyss of space. Panic surged through the crew as they fought to regain control, their desperate maneuvers echoing through the ship’s corridors.

Just when all hope seemed lost, salvation arrived in the form of the AeroNavis II. Emerging from a tear in the fold with guns blazing, Abraham and J.J. Smith swooped in to save the day, their timely intervention turning the tide of battle in their favor.

Relief washed over Spacedawg as he watched the Imperial cruisers fall one by one, their assailants vanquished by the formidable firepower of the AeroNavis II. As the dust settled and the chaos subsided, Abraham’s voice crackled over the comms, his thick Irish accent cutting through the static.

“It looks like you could use a tow,” he chuckled, his smile evident even through the flickering view screen.

Spacedawg couldn’t help but grin in return, a surge of gratitude coursing through him as he realized that, once again, fate had intervened in their favor. Little did they know, their journey was far from over, and the true challenges lay ahead as they ventured deeper into the heart of darkness that awaited them at the commerce station.

As the Mandoleer’s Folly drifted in the wake of the AeroNavis II’s rescue, the crew exchanged puzzled glances, a sense of déjà vu lingering in the air like an elusive memory on the edge of consciousness.

“Who are those guys?” Maelstrom muttered, his brow furrowed in confusion, as he watched the unfamiliar ship tow them to safety.

Spacedawg nodded in agreement, his mind racing with fragments of recollection. “I don’t know, but they seem… familiar somehow,” he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Captain Ed, ever the pragmatist, remained stoic in the face of uncertainty. 

“Let’s focus on the task at hand,” he said, his tone firm but measured. “We’ll deal with introductions later. Right now, our priority is to assess the situation at the commerce station and neutralize the threat of the Cult of Roch.”

With a nod of determination, the crew set to work, their resolve unshaken by the mysteries that lay before them. As the Mandoleer’s Folly was guided into the docking bay of the AeroNavis II, Spacedawg couldn’t shake the feeling that their encounter with Abraham and J.J. Smith was just the beginning of a much larger adventure—one that would test their courage and time travel.

—

The Mandoleer’s Folly glided smoothly into the docking bay of the old derelict station, a ghostly reminder of its former glory. The silence enveloped the crew as they disembarked, their footsteps echoing against the abandoned corridors, a stark contrast to the lively hum of their own ship.

Inside the base, the shipwright scaffold stood like a sentinel, its automated arms already at work repairing the Mandoleer’s Folly’s damaged hull. J.J. Smith, with a glint of mischief in his eyes, regaled them with tales of the station’s past, hinting at secrets hidden within its crumbling walls.

Abraham, ever vigilant, monitored the repair device, while Spacedawg and Ed observed in awe as the machinery worked its magic. The AeroNavis II, though dwarfed by its counterpart, exuded an aura of efficiency, a testament to its skilled crew.

Abraham wasted no time in proposing upgrades for the Mandoleer’s Folly, identifying weaknesses in its defenses, and offering enhancements to its weaponry. Little Suzy, too, was not exempt from his plans, promising to transform the fighter spacecraft into a formidable force to be reckoned with.

Ed glanced at Spacedawg, silently seeking his opinion. Despite the air of mystery surrounding Abraham, Spacedawg couldn’t deny the trust he felt in the man’s capabilities.

“Let’s do it,” Ed declared, his voice filled with determination. “We’ll be ready for whatever comes our way.”

But before they could delve further into the upgrades, Abraham’s offer of refreshments caught them off guard. Spacedawg’s surprise was palpable as Abraham casually mentioned cannabis, a nod to their shared familiarity.

“How did you know?” Spacedawg blurted out, his curiosity piqued by Abraham’s seemingly uncanny insight.

With a knowing smile, Abraham led them to the mess hall, where an android bartender awaited their orders. His intimate knowledge of their preferences left Spacedawg and Ed speechless, their minds racing with questions.

“Let me show you,” Abraham replied mysteriously, leading them to his workshop adorned with curious contraptions and faded photographs.

As memories of past adventures flooded Spacedawg’s mind, he felt a sense of déjà vu wash over him. The sight of Dr. Cornelius in the suspended animation pod triggered a flood of recollections, connecting dots that had long been obscured by the passage of time.

“He’s the original Dr. Cornelius,” Abraham proclaimed, his words reverberating through the room like a thunderclap.

As Dr. Cornelius emerged from his slumber, Spacedawg felt a surge of recognition, a bond forged in the fires of shared experiences. The reunion that followed was tinged with nostalgia, each moment a reminder of the journeys they had embarked upon together.

With memories reignited and alliances reaffirmed, the crew of the Mandoleer’s Folly prepared to face the challenges ahead. But amidst the excitement, Spacedawg couldn’t shake the feeling of unease creeping over him. The looming threat of the Cult of Roch cast a shadow over their plans, stirring a sense of paranoia in his gut.

As they gathered to confront the unknown, Spacedawg reached for his trusty joint, seeking solace in its calming embrace. In the face of uncertainty, there was one constant he could always rely on—the soothing embrace of cannabis.

—

Dr. Cornelius could hardly believe his eyes as he stepped onto the deck of the AeroNavis II, a wave of nostalgia washing over him at the sight of the familiar vessel.

“The AeroNavis!” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with awe. “That old bag of bolts. Abraham, you did an amazing job putting that together.”

Abraham chuckled, a twinkle in his eye as he replied, “I believe it was a team effort. You design, and I interpret. She’s a sturdy one. It’s a shame the Mandoleer’s Folly took such a beating.”

A repair drone hovered over Abraham, its metallic frame gleaming in the dim light of the hangar.

“Repairs are complete; the upgrades are about 80% done,” a sultry robotic voice announced. “The modifications will only take another hour or two.”

“Thank you, Dudley,” Abraham said gratefully, nodding to the drone as it returned to its tasks.

Spacedawg and the Alchemist stood nearby, watching the drones go about their business, sharing a big, fat joint as they soaked in the atmosphere of the bustling hangar.

“Pretty trippy, this time travel stuff,” the alchemist remarked, exhaling a plume of smoke. “All is fine and well, until some human messes around with spacetime in a way that they shouldn’t.”

“Here, here, my friend,” Spacedawg agreed, passing the joint back to the Alchemist with a nod of understanding.

As the effects of the smoke began to kick in, Spacedawg and the Alchemist found themselves overcome with the munchies, their stomachs growling in protest.

“Let’s hit up the mess hall,” Spacedawg suggested, his eyes lighting up with anticipation. “I could go for some protein-packed grub.”

Ed sauntered in and joined their table, a grin spreading across his face as he took in the scene.

“It looks like a bunch of upgrades were made,” he remarked, gesturing to the bustling activity around them. “Abraham even added an android chef. Can you believe it?”

The trio made their way to the mess hall, their appetites whetted by the promise of good food and great beer. As they settled in, they killed time with laughter and conversation, eagerly awaiting the completion of the upgrades on Mandoleer’s Folly.

–

At long last, Mandoleer’s Folly gleamed with a new sheen, the result of Abraham’s meticulous touch-up work. As he admired his handiwork, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in the ship that had become his second home.

Gathering the crew of the Mandoleer’s Folly, Abraham led them on a tour of the newly refurbished vessel. Every corner was spiffy and polished, with even Little Suzy receiving a makeover complete with sleek new features and a complement of powerful missile launchers.

Collaborating with Maelstrom, Abraham made significant improvements to the drones, equipping them with multiple weapon options and state-of-the-art enhancements.

But it wasn’t just the exterior that received attention. Inside, the ship boasted brand-new furniture and amenities, including a proper washer and dryer. With guidance from the Alchemist, Abraham repurposed a large unused room into a serene meditation garden, a welcome oasis of tranquility amidst the chaos of space.

As they marveled at the ship’s transformation, Abraham pointed out how he had maximized the Mandoleer’s Folly’s space, creating even more room for the crew. Ed couldn’t help but joke about living in luxury in the vast expanse of space.

Over dinner, they discussed their next course of action: taking on the Cult of Roch and their zombie menaces head-on. With speculation about potential survivors, they divided into two teams led by Celine and Spacedawg Pauly, each with their own objectives and strategies.

Celine’s team, consisting of Ed, Dr. Cornelius, and J.J. Smith, would focus on breaching and clearing the area, activating security measures and anti-crime deterrents along the way. Meanwhile, Spacedawg Pauly’s team, including Abraham, the Alchemist, and Maelstrom, would provide escort and support.

Armed to the teeth and clad in next-generation battle armor, the two teams set out towards their breaching points, the eerie silence of anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

As they approached their destination, the crew of the Mandoleer’s Folly braced themselves for the challenges ahead, knowing that their mission to confront the Cult of Roch would not be a walk in the park.

—

Celine’s Team:

The air hung heavy with humidity as Celine and her team made their way down the station’s corridors, their space armor helmets fogging up from the moisture. Wild vines snaked along the walls and draped down from the ceiling, lending an eerie atmosphere to their surroundings.

Suddenly, a whisper echoed through the corridor, the faint sound of incoherent French drifting towards them. Celine glanced at her companions, a furrow of concern creasing her brow as she asked if they had heard it too. With grim nods, her team confirmed they had, and Celine’s lips tightened into a thin line.

“Those whispers… they come from one species,” she murmured, her voice low with urgency.

As they pressed forward, they spotted a specter hovering above the ground, communicating with a squad of Frog Soldiers. The sight sent a chill down Celine’s spine as she prepared her team for the encounter ahead.

Meanwhile, Spacedawg Pauly’s team:

Spacedawg’s team navigated the corridors with caution, with environmental systems operational but cautioning against removing their helmets. As they received Celine’s warning about the presence of Tous Voyants, Maelstrom’s grim expression betrayed his familiarity with the foe from past conflicts.

The alchemist’s revelation about weaponized spores sparked a glimmer of hope amidst the tension, his knowledge offering a potential advantage against the amphibious adversaries. Proceeding with caution, they stumbled upon a large swimming pool teeming with La Grenouille Centurion egg clusters.

Remembering the RCSC protocol, Spacedawg wasted no time initiating the eradication process, while Maelstrom mentioned the rewards offered by the Gitchi-mando for each destroyed egg cluster. With a calculated move, the alchemist infected the egg sacks and water with spores, setting off a chain reaction that drew the attention of nearby centurions.

As the infected Centurions turned on each other in a frenzied onslaught, Maelstrom hurled a plasma grenade into the pool, vaporizing the egg sacks in a blinding flash of light.

Celine’s Team:

With swift precision, Celine and her team sprang into action, dispatching the frenzied Centurions with calculated efficiency. Their combined firepower tore through the amphibious adversaries, reducing them to nothing but scattered remains.

As the last of the threats dissolved into oblivion, Abraham stepped forward, his sheath gleaming in the dim light. With a practiced motion, he hurled the weapon towards the Ebony Wraith, the ancient wood crackling with energy as it struck its target. In an instant, the wraith disintegrated into a cloud of dust, vanquished by the mystical power of the sheleighly.

With the immediate danger eliminated, the team pressed on, following Celine’s lead towards the environmental control room. As they entered, the locked door loomed before them, but Celine wasted no time in utilizing an override command she had acquired from her RCSC days, swiftly unlocking the barrier.

Inside, they found two employees clad in space suits, their faces a mix of fear and relief at the sight of fellow humans. Dr. Cornelius and Abraham exchanged a knowing glance, a brilliant idea forming in their minds.

Meanwhile, Spacedawg Pauly’s team:

Near the power station, Spacedawg’s team received Celine’s override command, swiftly unlocking the door to the vital facility. Maelstrom wasted no time getting to work, his expertise in engineering guiding him as he began the process of restoring power to the station.

As circuits hummed back to life and lights flickered on, Spacedawg radioed Celine, relaying the success of their mission. With power soon to be restored, they awaited further instructions, ready to play their part in ensuring the success of the team’s plan.

—

 As Spacedawg’s team trudged through the icy plaza, a sense of desolation hung in the air, with the frozen vines and swirling snow creating a haunting backdrop to their journey. The statuesque La Grenouille Centurions, encased in ice, seemed to watch them with icy stares, sending chills down their spines.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the unholy power of the necromancer, and the dead Centurions lurched to life, their movements stiff and jerky as they staggered towards Spacedawg and his team.

In the midst of the chaos, Spacedawg’s feral instincts threatened to consume him, his axe swinging with savage fury as he fought against the tide of the undead. The Alchemist’s spores filled the air, causing the zombies to decay from within, while Maelstrom’s blade danced with deadly grace, slicing through their ranks with precision.

Amidst the mayhem, a sense of dread settled over them, as if the very fabric of reality was unraveling before their eyes. But they pressed on, driven by a fierce determination to survive against all odds.

As they battled through the horde, Celine’s voice crackled over the radio, warning of an approaching army of zombies. With time running out, they knew they had to act fast.

With the Alchemist’s ingenious solution, Spacedawg managed to regain control of his senses, with the calming mist of cannabis extract restoring his equilibrium amidst the chaos.

With their minds clear and their resolve renewed, they set their sights on their next objective: the security control room and the ventilation system.

—

Got it! Here’s the rewritten version with the correct sequence:

As Spacedawg’s team trudged through the icy plaza, a sense of desolation hung in the air, with the frozen vines and swirling snow creating a haunting backdrop to their journey. The statuesque La Grenouille Centurions, encased in ice, seemed to watch them with icy stares, sending chills down their spines.

Monks from the Cult of Roch commanded their undead minions to attack, their movements stiff and jerky as they staggered towards Spacedawg and his team.

“Don’t do it! By the spirits, he’s going to say it!” chimed in with the axe, sensing Spacedawg’s mounting aggression.

“Leeroy Jenkins!” roared Spacedawg, his voice cutting through the chaos as he charged into battle, his axe swinging with savage fury.

The Alchemist’s spores filled the air, causing the zombies to decay from within, while Maelstrom’s blade danced with deadly grace, slicing through their ranks with precision.

Amidst the chaos, Celine’s worried voice crackled over the radio, inquiring about the team’s safety amidst the onslaught of zombies.

“We’re fine. I just needed Spacedawg’s medicine, and then a bunch of zombies got in the way. We’ll be with you shortly,” reassured Maelstrom.

“If I may,” said the alchemist, “I can release my spores into the ventilation system. It’s near the security office. It’s better to be safe. It will decompose zombies.”

“Good idea, old friend,” replied Celine. “Spacedawg, you got your orders. Oh, and if the ‘Constaballs’ drones demand to scan you, just comply and let them do their job.”

“Got it!” confirmed Spacedawg.

With the calming mist of cannabis extract restoring Spacedawg’s equilibrium amidst the chaos, they set their sights on their next objective: the security control room and the ventilation system.

—

In the dimly lit corridors of the derelict station, the two teams split up, each with a mission crucial to their survival. The Alchemist and Maelstrom, with their minds set on releasing the mushroom spores into the ventilation system, ventured into the depths of the station’s infrastructure.

Meanwhile, Spacedawg and Abraham, armed with determination and a sense of duty, made their way towards the security office. As they navigated through the maze-like passages, the tension in the air was palpable, a silent reminder of the imminent danger lurking around every corner.

With the Alchemist leading the way, they reached the ventilation system. With a swift motion, he released the spores into the ducts, ensuring that any lingering zombies would meet their demise.

Simultaneously, Spacedawg and Abraham arrived at the security office. Without hesitation, Spacedawg flipped the switch, activating the station’s security measures. The hum of machinery echoed through the corridors as the system came to life, ready to defend against any intruders.

As they busied themselves with their respective tasks, a drone, resembling a metallic sphere with hovering capabilities, appeared overhead. Its mechanical voice demanded an ID scan, its red eye fixed on the two intruders.

Remaining cautious, the Alchemist and Maelstrom complied with the drone’s request, knowing that resistance would only draw unwanted attention. The drone beeped in acknowledgment, greeting them as deputies of the RCSC before continuing its patrol.

But their interaction with the drone was short-lived as the station erupted into chaos. The sound of gunfire echoed through the corridors as the drone’s fellow companions engaged in combat with the monks of the Cult of Roch. Caught in the midst of the conflict, the Alchemist and Maelstrom hurriedly retreated, knowing that their safety depended on completing their mission and reuniting with their comrades.

In the dimly lit corridors of the derelict station, chaos reigned as the teams split up to tackle their respective missions. As the Alchemist and Maelstrom made their way to the ventilation system, Spacedawg and Abraham ventured towards the security office, their minds filled with doubts about the effectiveness of the Constaballs.

As they approached the security office, Spacedawg couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. “You ever dealt with these Constaballs before, Abraham?” he muttered, glancing at his companion.

Abraham shook his head. “Can’t say I have, but I’ve heard mixed reviews. Some say they’re as pushy as they come, others swear by their efficiency. Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

Meanwhile, Celine and her team, along with several survivors, found themselves confronted by a squadron of Constaballs. The metallic spheres hovered ominously, their red eyes scanning the group with mechanical precision.

“We’re here to evacuate this area,” one of the Constaballs announced in a robotic monotone. “Please proceed to the nearest life pod station.”

Celine exchanged a worried glance with her team, knowing that their options were limited. Reluctantly, they complied, following the Constaballs as they were escorted to the life pod station.

Inside the cramped confines of the life pod, tension hung heavy in the air as Celine attempted to radio Spacedawg. “Spacedawg, come in,” she said, her voice tinged with urgency. But all she received in response was garbled static, the communications system blocked by some unseen force.

Frustration simmered beneath the surface as Celine tried again, her fingers tapping anxiously on the radio transmitter. “Spacedawg, do you copy? We’re being forced to evacuate by the Constaballs. Something’s not right here.” But her words fell on deaf ears as the garbled static persisted, leaving her team stranded in the uncertain depths of the derelict commerce station.

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