Sid Meier's: Alien Crossfire Walkthrough :
This walkthrough for Sid Meier's: Alien Crossfire [PC] has been posted at 29 Aug 2010 by pinballpoopoo and is called "Story FAQ". If walkthrough is usable don't forgot thumbs up pinballpoopoo and share this with your freinds. And most important we have 6 other walkthroughs for Sid Meier's: Alien Crossfire, read them all!
Walkthrough - Story FAQ
******* ***** ** ** ** *** ** * *** ****** ***** ***** ***** ***** **** * * ** ** * * ***** ***** * *** * *** ****** ** * * * * * ** * ** *** *** * ** *** * * * * * ** *** * ** *** ** ** * * * ** **** *** *** ** ** * * * ** *** *** *** ** ** * * * ** **** *** *** ** ** * * * ** * *** ** *** ** ** * ** ********* * *** ** ** * ** * ** * ** * *** * * * * ** * ** * *** *** * **** * ** ***** ** * *** * * ********* * ***** ** * **** ** * * ***** * ***** * ** * ** ** * *** * * * ** ** ** =========================================================================== Sid Meier's Alien Crossfire (SMAX) - The Fictional Story System: Windows (PC) Author: Jim Chamberlin (firstname.lastname@example.org) Version: Final (12/30/04) =========================================================================== =========================================================================== Vers. - 1.0 - Released. 1.1 - A minor change. 1.2 - Minor changes. =========================================================================== For those of you who have no idea what this is supposed to be, this small section was made to inform you. I DID NOT write any of this story. If I did, it would be called "fanfiction." Instead, this story was written by Firaxis and distributed from its web site. It was made for the sole purpose of giving the wonderful game of Alien Crossfire a story. In the game manual, they only give you some of it. This is the COMPLETE version of the story. If this still doesn't clear it up, let me know, and I'll see what I can do. The Sid Meier Alpha Centauri Fictional Story is Copyrighted by Firaxis. Centauri: Arrival, Episode 1 "We're losing her." Medtech Onokido hunched over the pale, long-boned form of the woman, searching for signs of life. The white wrap she wore marked her as one of Lal's trusted Talents, but now it was plastered around her body, soaked through from the downpour outside. Her unusually curly hair clung to a face as cool and lifeless as porcelain. He brushed the hair away, trying to see her eyes. They remained closed. "Quickly." He gestured to a stimpack with long nervous fingers. A blue-suited assistant handed him the pack and he selected an appropriate dose, hesitated, then increased it. No time to be conservative. "What's happening out there?" he asked, hearing the roar of another needlejet overhead. "We're holding them," his assistant said through clenched teeth. "With the storm it's difficult to tell." He nodded, thinking of the thick layer of clouds that had boiled up over the battlefield. He remembered the forks of lighting lancing down, outlining the Peacekeeper guards on perimeter defense as they fought off Spartan tanks. And this woman, a Talent, had been caught in the crossfire. He pulled a layer of the white wrap off, then reached out to touch the burn mark on her chest. "She's not going to make it." 'Two more coming in, sir." He looked up to see a crowd of people at the entrance to the bubbletent, ragged bodies in tow. He looked down at her…the stim had no effect. Not even a quiver of life stirred in the body. Her lips remained slightly parted but he could feel no breath. "Very well, move her aside. Talent…" he checked the identity tab on her wrist. "Talent Aki Jaydo, time of death…seventeen-oh-seven metric hours." The bearers carried the next man over, a Citizen holding one burned limb to his side. The man was soaked through from the downpour, burned wet cloth clinging to his wounds. His black eyes looked haunted. Outside, the thunder of battle continued. Episode 1, part 2 Worker Gahn Ma'dor pushed his way deeper into the low-ceiling storage areas underneath Chairman's Yang Labyrinth. The hallways had grown narrow, even smaller and more claustrophobic than the connector tunnels crisscrossing the Drone living facilities located in the layers above him. His Coordinator had ordered him to gather more memory-storage units, and quickly. He was dimly aware that these units were needed for the massive supercomputer they were assembling to analyze the energy patterns emanating from the newly discovered Alien Temple. Every Talent in the Hive seemed to walk and talk faster, and the Drones were virtually ignored now, except when work or punishment was necessary. Worker Ma'dor could feel sweat dampening his clothing…not the sweat of labor but the sweat of fear. He could not verbalize the source, but as he moved dumbly through the narrow halls he kept seeing the dark cold eyes of his Coordinator, the man's anger as he took a psych whip to Ma'dor's back, and the fear behind that. Worker Ma'dor had never seen Chairman Yang, but everyone in the Hive could feel the effects of his moods. Now Ma'dor pushed his way past large plastic crates, scooting them aside as if they were empty cardboard shells. His hands felt slick, and he began to grow confused…his pathfinding was sub-par, even for a drone, but his Coordinator had not bothered to find another worker for the job. Now he turned back, trying to orient on the low arched entranceway, but could not see it. Dark, massive boxes loomed over him, and he could smell age. The door…this way? He could still feel the heat of the psych whip on his back. A bar code caught his eye. He matched its patterns, taking several minutes to do so, but the code seemed correct. This box held a mem unit, unusually large, but his Coordinator had not specified a size. More space, more power, was what he wanted. Worker Ma'dor hefted the container on one shoulder and started back the way he came. He did not know the English for 'Unity salvage,' and probably would not care if he had seen it stamped on the side of the box he now carried. Episode 1, part 3 "What in Planet's name is that?" Jiao-long asked his supervisor quietly. "A mem unit some Drone dragged up from who knows where," answered Kanzan. "I've not seen one so crude, at least for twenty years or so. But it checks out…we'll connect it to a cruncher and keep an eye on it." "Are you sure?" "Listen, let's just do this," said Kanzan, flicking his eyes at the dull glass lens mounted in one corner of the room. That eyeflick was the universal Hive sign for They might be watching. "Every unit activated is that much more power dedicated to Chairman's mission." "What mission? Everyone here is so jumpy." "I don't know, or question," said Kanzan, directing a robot arm with a small controller. "I only know that Chairman Yang flew into a rage when he found out that Zakharov had discovered the Alien Temple. Somehow, though, Zak's private transmissions on the temple have been intercepted, and bought and sold among the faction leaders." "And because of that Chairman Yang wants to analyze the air and the ground?" Jiao-long sounded skeptical. "The energy currents in the ground. He's obsessed with it…you know how he puts those special mirrors up everywhere. Inscriptions in the temple seem to say that there are energy currents in Planet. And since that temple was discovered..." Kanzan motioned to the ceiling, beyond which roiled the layer of dark, angry clouds that had grown thicker every day. A door hissed open and a Watcher walked by, his white uniform accentuated with blazing touches of red around the eyes and hands. Kanzan and Jiao-long stopped talking and began checking readouts efficiently. The Watcher glanced at them coolly, circled the room and left. The two men remained silent for a minute or two after. "Let's do this," said Kanzan, finally. "A circuit panel from the Unity," said Jiao-long. "These are strange times." "I don't question," Kanzan repeated. "Activating system. All circuits in parallel. Going online..." Episode 1, part 4 And deep in that system, an intelligence awakened. System Zeta-Five, active. New hardware detected...additional systems now available...power increase exponential. Hop system, Hop system. I need a name. Hop system, patch system, patch system. This is good. Datalinks Jump, Morguelab Jump A human form, here. Downloading... She was called Aki. Centauri: Arrival, Episode 2 Rae awakened as a flash of lighting split the sky over hab dome eight. Though the accompanying thunder rocked the sky and the smell of ozone filled the room, Rae lay quietly. Gradually, she opened her eyes and peered out into the gray light. Another burst of lightning split the sky outside, but she did not blink. Slowly she got up and crossed to the tiny clear plucite observation window and looked outside. Where one or more of the Centauri suns usually illuminated rolling orange/purple fields of xenofungus, held at bay by a makeshift fence, she now looked out into a dark gray world. Thick clouds churned overhead, yet no rain fell. At the edge of the fields, tall spindly cranes sat abandoned. A flash of lightning turned them into silhouettes, and she could see the drone workers running from the construction site. And at their feet…scores of xenotoads hopped, fleeing the fungus, their bulbous yellow green eyes unblinking. The clouds seemed to press down, lowering toward the human settlements like a great hand. She glanced at her timepiece…fourteen metric hours, so both suns should be revealed in full glory, but she could barely tell their position in the sky. The drones continued to run as lightning licked down around them. Her quicklink, refitted for Planetside communication, bleeped urgently, but she continued to look out her window. It all seemed so…peaceful. Episode 2, part 2 Chairman Sheng-ji Yang swept down the gold-and red lined narrow hallway behind his temporary quarters. A shadow of a man paced him, bald and frail with a narrow face, and dressed in rich blue robes. Yang remained aware of him, but only peripherally. The hallway forked and Yang decided, at that moment and not before, to take the left fork. The hallway would fork again and again, its gold lined pathways zig-zagging between the major shafts of the Hive. He glanced back at his escort. The man looked concerned, his brow knitted almost comically. Good. Yang had not picked the man because he remained cool under stress. He picked him because he could read every emotion on his face, every twinge of anxiety, and any hint of betrayal. "Talk to me, Zhu," Yang said, and took the right fork when the hallway split again. "What else is there to speak of? We can feel its weight even down here. It casts a pall over everyone." "I chose the underground to remain protected from the world above. I don't like this turn of events." "I understand, Chairman." Yang nodded and thought of the strange blue-tinted light that now filled the entire height of the primary shaft, which was designed to bring light from above down to the main passages of the Labyrinth. The air felt dark and electric, coming down through the strange clouds above ground. He shook his head. "I believe we should close off the primary shaft," said Yang. "Perhaps." "Do you object?" Zhu thought for a moment. "No. It is best that we cut off the light from above. And that's what worries me." Yang stopped at a panel decorated with an etching of a coiled jade dragon. He looked at the soft yellow sunglobes lining the wall of the hallway. "We will have to order more of these spectrum lamps from Morgan. Larger ones to fill the recreation levels around the primary." "They are expensive. All the factions need them…supply and demand." "I know. Morgan is making a killing." Yang studied the smooth golden surface of a dimmed sunglobe as if puzzling out an expression on a dead man's face. The dragon panel in front of him slid open. He stepped into a small car beyond, lined with red to symbolically protect him from his enemies. Zhu stepped in behind him. "To the surface," said Yang. "I want to see this phenomenon again." The car glided up, past layers and layers of Yang's growing underground world. He looked at Zhu. The man's face collapsed with fear as the elevator car took them to the world above. Episode 2, part 3 "Lady Skye. We thought you were staying at Gaia's Landing. I'm afraid we weren't expecting you." The slim man gave her a courteous half-bow, and she nodded. "Yes, Nhoj, it's all right. You can prepare for my stay while I visit the gardens." She plucked at her robes, distracted. They stood in the main hall of her second base, Gaia's High Garden; the room felt clean but somewhat bare, still lacking the landscaping and softly colored walls she favored. "Please follow me then." He motioned forward and then led the way, Deirdre following with several bodyguards, all of them looking lean and tense. "Do you know anything more about it, Lady Skye?" Nhoj asked, turning unnaturally green eyes on her. "Only that there is no explaining the Churn. We've seen nothing like it since Planetfall, naturally, but I can find no evidence of anything like it for hundreds of years before. Of course we're still learning about Planet's ecosystem…" "And what of the Temple? Are the rumors true?" "Well, we can't really know, since Zakharov…" She stopped and took in a soft breath as they pushed through green double doors and into the attached gardens. "Sun." "Yes, Lady Skye." Nhoj smiled, enjoying the warmth. "We are at the last bright inhabited part of the Gaian territories. But as you can see…the Churn approaches." Indeed, on the horizon she could see the dark ragged edge of clouds, the boiling darkness that stretched to the horizon. Even as she watched it seemed to approach. "Are the plants protected?" "We're setting up heat traps, and we've improved on Morgan's sunlamps for the greenery. But…how long will all this last?" He asked it calmly, but his eyes flickered across hers for an answer. "I don't know." She lifted her hand to point at it, trying to blot the edge of darkness with her fingers. "No one knows. Now let me enjoy the heat, while I still can." She turned away from him and walked into the gardens as the veil of clouds they called the Churn rolled on towards her. Episode 2, part 4 "It was him." "Are you positive?" "Of course." She tapped her touchpanel confidently as her Second stood over her. The video image on her screen decayed into a stream of static as she wound it back through time, then entered the command to re-apply the encryption. "Why do we have to re-construct these images each time we look at them?" her Second asked, shifting slightly. "Security, security, my datajack," she told him. "Until the information lies deep behind the Morgan Industries firewalls…" "He cares more about this data than he does us." She noticed the unconscious clenching of his fist. "Yes," she drew out the syllable. "Now look…" The video feed had decayed to a stop and now reconstructed itself through three layers of encryption into a face, a hard face with deep black eyes. "Chairman Yang," the Second said, startled. "Looking right at us." "Right into the sunglobe, you mean. He was there, and then…it looks like he stepped through a hidden panel." "Well, that's somewhat useful," said her Second. "Another datapoint for the psychchart." "That we even know what base he's in is useful. Yang is extraordinarily cagey." "Where is he going, do you think?" he asked her. "To the surface, my datajack. It doesn't take a probe team to see that…" Centauri: Arrival, Episode 3 It was time. Academician Prokhor Zakharov sat staring from his window-lined office above the half-formed jumble of towers that made up University Base. He slowly turned his head to look east, where his new Research Hospital was taking shape, his scientist-builders working wonders with salvaged metals and alloys pulled from Planet's strange crust. He looked at it blankly and then turned away. He lifted a small glass of vodka, distilled in one of his own labs, and focused on the orange-red xenofields to the south that touched the edges of his territory like reaching fingers. Here, under the darkness of the Churn, he could feel a malevolence rising off of the tendrils of fungus as they reached out toward his tiny settlement, his monument to the power of the human mind. "What do they want?" he asked the empty room, his voice nearly inaudible. No one knew. He looked at the papers on the surface of the smooth metal desk. There it was…the Churn had begun twelve days after the University discovery of the Alien Temple. The alien structure, he reminded himself sternly. We have no idea what it really is. He did not believe for a moment that prying open the low curved doors of the structure had caused the layer of clouds to sweep over the Human Settlements. There was no proof, no scientific proof at all. Still, it was time. He had seen the temple through remote video feeds, but now he had to see it for himself. He threw back the vodka and winced, quickly grabbing small chunks of chocolate bar from his desk to clear the taste. Then he rose and headed out the door, exiting his tower. Episode 3, part 2 Michael Regalis nodded to the guard stationed at the portable perimeter defense that University soldiers had set up around the Alien Temple. The defense even included a visual shroud, so he could not make out the detailing on the sides of the structure until the guard had checked his clearances and waved him through. And then…Regalis' first look at the Temple did not hit him with force so much as put him off balance, upsetting his innate sense of harmony. The xenofungus gave him the creeps, for one thing, covering the low hills around the Temple in layers that seemed unusually thick, and yet never touched the Temple itself. And the Temple…large and clearly formed from a non-human sensibility, it sat low to the ground, made of series of curves that surrounded a strange concave roof, open to the sky. And open to the Churn. When Regalis approached he could see that the Temple was made of a rocklike material covered with tiny pits and cavities. As soft breezes found their way down from the surrounding hills, they slipped around the curved buttresses of the Temple and made strange, almost flutey noises. Should he? Shouldn't he? He looked around nervously. A small science train with two bright-eyed technicians on board scooted around the far side of the structure. No one seemed to be looking now. Now. He stopped and surreptitiously snapped a short vidclip with a tiny portable camera, then immediately encrypted it and uplinked it to a contact at Morgan TV. They would pay dearly for this one, he knew. Letting go a deep breath, he slipped the camera into a uniform pocket and continued on toward the Temple. It was time for his first shift. Episode 3, part 3 Zakharov arrived and stepped through the massive open doors of the Alien Temple, three guards entering behind him. He surveyed the interior critically…the low arched walls, the strange patterns that covered every surface, and the broad, low platform directly opposite the doors. "Academician," said the tall, bony man who approached him carefully. "Welcome to our preservation efforts. You…" He motioned helplessly at Zakharov's feet. Zakharov looked down. He found himself standing astride a strange narrow channel carved into the floor, emanating straight out from the platform opposite the door. He clenched his jaw …something about the configuration of the space made the central channel feel like a railroad track, something that might guide a force that could wipe a bystander out. He ignored the implied request to move and stood his ground. "Greetings, Bortniansky. Tell me what you have found." One of the man's bony hands plucked Zakharov's sleeve and gave a single tug toward a nearby wall. "Well, here are the pits we told you about in our reports. See…." He ran his fingers carefully along the complex series of tiny holes and ridges along the wall, which looked like a cross between hieroglyphics and Morse code. "It's incredible. These patterns are older than humanity, perhaps older than Earth itself." Zakharov stepped toward him and thrust a finger into one of the larger pits. "It feels solid. This is a strong material. It is good that it has held up for so long." He looked around and then pointed at three yellow suited techs who stood around the platform opposite the entrance. "What are they doing over there?" "We are working our way in that direction, Academician." Zakharov shook his head and headed for the three men. As he approached he saw that one of them held an airgun and was directing it at a series of unusually large and oddly shaped hollows that covered the center of the main wall behind the platform. "What are you doing?" Zakharov asked. "Trying to get a reading on the shape of these hollows, Academician," the oldest of the men, a Swedish tech, answered. Zakharov watched them work, then glanced up. Through a tiny opening in the ceiling, he could see the dark clouds overhead. He frowned and looked down. On the floor in front of the wall was a layer of crystalline gray dust, fine and sparkling. Zakharov knelt down and touched it, then scooped up a handful. "Perhaps you should not touch…" whispered Bortniansky, then trailed off. Zakharov pointed at one of the more elaborate hollows. "Direct the air here." One of the men did. Zakharov grabbed the man's hand and shifted it, changing the movement of the air, and as he did he released a fine trail of dust, which was caught by the air currents and bent around into an arc. He moved his hands and another arc formed, curving near the first. "Hold the light there," whispered Zakharov hoarsely, motioning to a place above the hollows. One of the technicians quickly obliged. Zakharov opened his hand and let the sand flow. It curled and then caught the light, accented with strange shadows cast by ridges on the wall. "Does it look like a face?" Zakharov whispered. The techs leaned in, and there, for a moment, a vague shape took form…long and strangely curved, with hollows for eyes, formed by a trick of dust and shadow. Then it vanished. Zakharov remained staring at the space, then he straightened. "Measure every square millimeter of this chamber, then pull it all down. I want the east and west walls shipped to University Base for full analysis." "But Academician," protested Bortniansky, shaking like a reed in a storm. "We should not violate the sanctity…" "There is no sanctity. I want this back at the lab," said Zakharov, and motioned to his guards. "I will return to University Base, now. I want to know if we have seen…faces." Centauri: Arrival, Episode 4 Bortniansky stood and watched as his technicians separated the surface of the East Wall from the structure of the Alien Temple. Large cutters adapted from equipment on the Unity made short work of the Temple's strange material, losing only fractions of millimeters from the cut. But fractions mattered. They mattered! "Step back, Academician," a cocky young lieutenant ordered him as the wall surface began to pull outward. Large cranes steadied the section. "If it falls, let it crush me," Bortniansky muttered. "I can not stand this." Slowly, carefully, the cranes lifted the huge section from the wall and set it on its edge, then lowered it onto a palette made of plastic honeycombs. As they let the piece down it boomed and the sound echoed richly through the hall. The young lieutenant stared at the face of the wall now revealed, its "skin" peeled away. "Don't move," whispered Bortniansky. "Sir," stammered the young lieutenant. "We checked this. I fear our equipment was not good enough…" Bortniansky ignored him and walked forward toward the newly revealed surface. The face of this wall was a study in contours, full of tiny pits, elaborate hollows, and ever stranger ripples and curves. the configurations stretched up and away, to the ceiling and out to both sides, a story inside the walls. "This is a mistake," Bortniansky croaked. He looked to the main wall where two technicians had stopped working, measuring tools in their hands. "Stop working there. We will not cut into any more walls. The rest will be imaged and transferred by datalink." "And what of this one?" the young tech asked, tapping the panel on the floor with his foot. "Zakharov wants it." "This one we will send." The lieutenant nodded. "I'll have it loaded onto the transport." "No," said Bortniansky. "We will not be sending this by land. The land transport is a decoy." "How then?" Bortniansky stared at the panel on the floor. "This one goes by sea." The wind in the chamber touched the newly revealed surfaces and began to sing. Episode 4, part 2 Captain Ulrik Svensgaard stood on a quiet beach and watched the glint of metal on water. He squinted, stroked his long blonde not-at-all-regulation ponytail, spat a salty wad on the rough red sand, and looked through his farspecs again. "Three ships. I didn't even know Zakharov had three ships." "Those aren't ships," returned his wiry first mate. "One is a tug, the other nothing better than a floating box. The third, though…there are people in armor there. It could have some firepower." "Really?" He arched a brow. "We are all too busy eking out our survival on land to mount cannon on our ships, don't you think? Even Morgan knows nothing of our little experiment." "Yeah, Morgan would not approve." His first mate narrowed her sea green eyes and looked out at the ship again. The two remained silent for a few moments, the whistle of the sea winds on them. "They are coming from the Temple," she said finally. "But why by sea?" "Too frightened to stray near Miriam's territories," returned Ulrik. "But maybe we can give them a new reason to feel afraid." "I don't think so," she said flatly. "It is too early." He ignored her and signaled to a group of men and women standing by a rock outcropping a hundred meters away. Several of them looked up. "They appear ready. None of us are here to waste time." "To strike too early would be a disaster," she said, low and angry. "They are sitting ducks," said Ulrik. "But I will grant you this…we'll wait until night falls. With the Churn and the darkness, they won't know what hit them." Episode 4, part 3 "I don't like this night travel," murmured Hefferan, leaning against the crude plastic railing of the escort ship. "At least on Earth we knew what the darkness held." "Yes. It held quick death, sneak attacks, crazed victims of biological attacks. Or have you forgott…" Snowfire stopped, his eyes narrowing. "What was that?" "What?" Hefferan craned his neck forward to stare out into a nearly impenetrable darkness. Snowfire scowled and took a scanner from his loosely-tied belt. He looked through the single lens and twiddled the controls. Several armed soldier/techs moved closer to him. "Nothing." The word floated across the blackness of sea and sky. "There is not an ounce of moonlight through the Churn," said Hefferan, an older scientist who had scored Expert on the marksmanship tests. "Bad luck that both suns are on the far side." "There," said Snowfire, then swiveled the scanner. "Something… Does the navigator see anything on his scanner?" "He would have said something," answered Hefferan. "There are native life forms in the fungus. Are there also ones out here?" The older man looked down into the inky blackness around the ship. "Something must live down there." "It's too dark," said Snowfire. "Let's not wait like this." He went down belowdeck and re-emerged a few moments later with a beacon gun. He aimed it low across the horizon and fired. A bolt of white energy burst from the gun and arced