Desperation Compact
Preamble, paragraph 5
This whole damn place feels like a powder-box sittin crooked on a campfire stove. I spect were in for a fight worsen anythin these young bucks have seen in thirty years
Gazelle the Peacemaker
The towns had never been so empty, so desolate. Not a soul remained in Sky, May, or July. The wind echoed a somber tone as it blew across ragged holes, whistling up the dust and sending the tumbleweeds on their merry way. To the west, a great cloud of grit and sand billowed up slowly, dimming the searing heat of the twin suns as it was rustled up from the ground by the marching of many hundreds of feet, many turns of rubber wheels and iron track, and the great trampling of hooves.
Gunsmoke was on the move.
The Brigadiers had been the first to mobilize, and they traveled in a neat caravan, troop transports rumbling by whole battalions marching in time. Armed jeeps and battle cruisers patrolled the flanks as the Brig war machine slowly plodded into the harsh deserts of the Badlands.
The Edenists, not to be outdone, had assembled their forces almost as quickly as the Brigs, but with only half the organization. Any car, bike, truck, or Thomas that could be found had been put to use carrying the hundreds of Eden citizens as they fell in behind Grace Marlins fleet of Big Rigs, carrying supplies, munitions, and all manner of miscellaneous items needed for acquiring the prize.
The subject of this mad rush into the arid wastes of Gunsmoke was something that had stuck in the mind of every man, woman and child since the night it screamed through the sky and buried itself in the far reaches of the desert; A SEEDS ship, and a working one, at that. Until now, it had gone untouched the craft had the great fortune to land in the largest sandworm territory known to the planet, making a small expedition nearly impossible and almost certainly suicidal to any involved. At present, the only ones known to have even gotten close enough to look at the thing were the Vox, but no one had the gumption to find one and coax him into confirming it.
The Vox Dei another peril of the desert. They knew full well of the Brigs and the Edenists plans to take the ship. They had stopped raiding a full two weeks before the march, and sightings of bandits in the open desert had dropped to nearly nothing. They were planning something something BIG. Whether they meant to drive the invading factions from their territory or move for the ship and beat them to the punch remained to be seen. Garand the Orator most certainly had his eye on the ship and its technology; since its arrival, he had done nothing but proclaim it as a sign from God, a vessel for His chosen people, to free them from this desert prison and spirit them to a Promised Land.
It all came down to this moment, the beginning of a long crusade. Blood would be shed, and as the two marching factions eyed each other, no more than half a mile apart, they knew that the men they saw at a distance would soon be nose-to-nose with them, and their lives would be forfeit in the lawless deserts of Gunsmoke.
Alright, guys, I want a good clean fight. This is only the first part, and youll have a certain amount of time before I start the next round. This is just the journey to the territory. Youll probably be meeting some Vox raiders here, so be ready. If fighting happens between the two marching factions, well clusterfuck away. Youre all fighting mad anyway.










