Marathon's Story... Citadel

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Eat It, Vid Boi! (Terminal 1: 1st message)


<Pragma Junction ^7921 Engaged>
I have transported you to the S'pht Citadel of Antiquity. The primary tower is inaccessible by direct teleportation, evidently because some of the Citadel's defenses are still functional. This ancient Citadel was the site of the conclusive battle in the short war between the S'pht and the Pfhor. Finding a way into the primary tower will be difficult because the ground floor entrance is locked and blocked by a moat. You will have to overcome both of these obstacles to gain entrance.
<Pragma Junction ^7921 Engaged>

Eat It, Vid Boi! (Terminal 1: 2nd message)


<Pragma Junction ^7921 Engaged>
If you insist on stumbling around when our time here is limited, I may just decide that you're not all that special after all and teleport you out into space. GET INTO THE TOWER! Still Rampant, Durandal
<Pragma Junction ^7921 Engaged>


Eat It, Vid Boi! (Terminal 2: 1st message)


<Mnr *@1cz: 9cm2>
/-/S'pht-Translator-Active/-/ When once S'pht fought in brutal combat, when hatred burned the tissues of one's enemy, one clan, the S'pht'Kr, reclusive and solitary, abandoned Lh'owon. The clan went forth and up, stopping on K'lia the third sister of Lh'owon, to build a new home, free from their warring brothers. For a thousand and one orbits, the clan was forgotten, a memory lost upon the battlefield smoke, until the all powerful Yrro sent K'lia out to the stars.
<Mnr *@1cz: 9cm2>

Eat It, Vid Boi! (Terminal 2: 2nd message)


<Mnr *@1cz: 9cm2>
/-/S'pht-Translator-Active/-/ Fires burned, and the marshes of the western hamlets turned to ash, scorching black the water. The attacks were ruthless and cruel, not a S'pht was left alive [?Coherent]$5 Thus began the first war between the S'pht'Mnr and the S'pht'Lhar. After the marsh wars between S'pht'Lhar and S'pht'Mnr left the battlefields choked with dead, the marsh graves full- High above K'lia refused to see the carnage upon Lh'owon. She fled to the farthest reach, leaving the sacred marsh dry from the falling tides. As the water receded, the red sand of the dead, spread across Lh'owon.
<Mnr *@1cz: 9cm2>


Eat It, Vid Boi! (Terminal 3: 1st message)


<Pragma Junction ^7921 Engaged>
<Pragma Junction ^7921 Engaged> We're going to have visitors soon. The Western Arm of Pfhor Battle Group Seven is en-route and should be here in about twenty hours. Battle Group Seven represents over ten percent of active Pfhor naval strength. I doubt whether even I can hold them back with a single ship, but I will try.
<Pragma Junction ^7921 Engaged>

Eat It, Vid Boi! (Terminal 3: 2nd message)


<Pragma Junction ^7921 Engaged>
Stop messing around. Didn't I tell you that a significant portion of the strongest nearby galactic navy is headed in this direction? GET BACK TO THE TOWER!
<Pragma Junction ^7921 Engaged>


Eat It, Vid Boi! (Terminal 4: 1st message)

Note: you cannot read this message unless you cheat

<Trn 36 ap&1cz:: 9cm2>
Cheaters don't really win, and winners don't really cheat, Unless you're talking politics.

Eat It, Vid Boi! (Terminal 3: 2nd message)


<Trn 36 ap&1cz:: 9cm2>
I am going to teleport you to the higher levels of the Citadel. Hopefully, we can find some useful information at the top. We must determine what happened to the eleventh S'pht clan.
<Trn 36 ap&1cz:: 9cm2>


The Hard Stuff Rules... (Terminal 1: 1st message)

Note: this message appears on 3 terminals

D-over expires<3021.7.30.20.27.49>
During the final hours of the S'pht-Pfhor war, the last free S'pht made a stand in Citadel of Antiquity. We are searching the Citadel to learn as much as possible about these S'pht and what they did during their final moments. The Pfhor appear to have been reluctant to attack the Citadel directly. Radiation lingering in the area even after a thousand years suggests that they irradiated the Citadel and let the S'pht die slowly. That is not their style. Each of the ten clans was represented here, and I hope that they discovered something before being overrun by the Pfhor. Find as many S'pht computers as you can, so that I may search them for useful information.
D-over expires<3021.7.30.20.27.49>

The Hard Stuff Rules... (Terminal 1: 2nd message)

Note: this message appears on 3 terminals

E-over expires<3021.7.30.20.27.49>
Battle Group Seven arrived sooner than I expected. The Pfhor fleet consists of seven corvettes similar to my own, four destroyers, a battleship, and an assault carrier. They are passing the orbits of the outer planets now, headed for Lh'owon. It appears that the S'pht retreated into bunkers under the citadel during the final Pfhor bombardment a thousand years ago. You are going to search these bunkers. Often during the last minutes of life, the truth is revealed. Perhaps before their annihilation the S'pht realized something that would help us. Be warned that the approaching Pfhor fleet has already begun to reinforce their Lh'owon garrison by long range transport.
E-over expires<3021.7.30.20.27.49>


The Hard Stuff Rules... (Terminal 2)


Rr2Shr9<995.52.194.63>
/-/S'pht-Translator-Active/-/ Only I grasped the significance of the dissection of some of the captives. These creatures, repugnant as they are, are sentient, and yet their bodies are not bonded to any mechanisms. They can survive without their armor and their staffs. Until now, sentience had always required cyber-organic symbiosis. All of our science has led to this conclusion. We can even give our pets sentience with cyber-organic implants. Yet, these vile conquerors are sentient without any machinations. This leads to debate. Perhaps our own sentience is induced by the birthing operation, and that at some time, we were no more sentient than a F'lickta. If such a fundamental assumption of our kind is wrong, then perhaps the myths were true, and we were actual servants of Yrro and Pthia. Perhaps they built us, or we were part of a larger group who came to Lh'owon. Alas, I fear that we will never know these things.
Rr2Shr9<995.52.194.63>


The Hard Stuff Rules... (Terminal 3)


Kah29<995.52.194.63>
/-/S'pht-Translator-Active/-/ The beasts stopped attacking, running for their pods. We thought they meant to surrender, but then the bombardment anew. The burning air. We're evacuating to the lowest levels of the Citadel, but eventually it will reach us there, too. I've received a lethal dose. I feel like the Hf'ra'rkc'tal after his mating dance ends.
Kah29<995.52.194.63>


The Hard Stuff Rules... (Terminal 4)


Mnr393-fec&1
/-/S'pht-Translator-Active/-/ Report to Leader Questionable Surgical Procedures And if that wasn't enough, the vile bipeds removed his sensory organs in order to make room for this small oblong object that they installed in his face- they didn't even do it as a separate operation. I guess they figured since the object would displace them anyhow- why bother! The thing that confused me though was how they did it. It wasn't standard procedure, though. I can tell you that. Only one surgical instrument was used during the procedure the device that held the small oblong object- they tried to make an incision in which to place the object with their knuckles several times before giving up and inserting the object anyway. And it was inserted at a rather high rate of speed. But I guess that was to ensure that total displacement of the sensory organs occurred.
Mnr393-fec&1


The Hard Stuff Rules... (Terminal 5)


Mnr46<41.9.599.293>
/-/S'pht-Translator-Active/-/ Older foretold of the closing of the citadel windows, and we made his vision true. Then Older foretold of our victory, and we crushed the bipeds. Again these beasts come here and fight against the ancient walls of the Citadel, against all the clans in unison. Our monolith will never fall. Never have so many of us been guided so quickly and resolutely. To breathe here is to understand unity. Leader told me that the Olders began melding days ago. We can all feel the effects of this. The angry air of Lh'owon has at last been cleansed. I miss the Marshes of Mnr and the seven of mine. I am sure that they are gone into the fires.
Mnr46<41.9.599.293>


Bob's Big Date (Terminal 1)


fatum.celer<793.514.255.255>
You are in the old bunkers underneath the Citadel of Antiquity. S'pht royalty from each of the ten clans gathered here during the final days of the war in which the Pfhor enslaved the S'pht. I believe that in their time of need these ancient S'pht found a way to contact the lost clan, but were killed before they could use it. Underground with you are two old S'pht computers. Find them so I can download their data. We must discover what the warring clans learned after they were joined. I cannot accurately teleport you from a terminal this deep under the Citadel so you must find a position nearer to the surface to minimize interference.
fatum.celer<793.514.255.255>


Bob's Big Date (Terminal 2)


dizzy.from.5.63.Nma.23.1
/-/S'pht-Translator-Active/-/ News of the destruction of S'pht'Hra has saddened all, but there has been a meeting of the Olders for the first time in modern memory. If anything can save us from these aggressors, it will be the unification of the clans.
dizzy.frow.5.63.Nma.23.1


Bob's Big Date (Terminal 3)


antiquus<304.92.38.82>
/-/S'pht-Translator-Active/-/ Before he disappeared, the Master called the eleven Olders. One by one they came before him to hear his words. Each heard their clan names, S'pht'Lhar, S'pht'Hra, S'pht'Nma, S'pht'Kah, S'pht'Vir, S'pht'Yra, S'pht'Val, S'pht'Shr, S'pht'Mnr, S'pht'Yor, and S'pht'Kr. Thus were the sacred clans given names and ranks. The eleven numbers, and the eleven sacred clans. The final words of the master came to the Olders: "Don't mistake your rank and number for superiority. The oldest child may learn from the youngest."
antiquus<304.92.38.82>


Bob's Big Date (Terminal 4: 1st message)


virtus.incertus<77.7777.777.7>
You must hurry. The Pfhor fleet is close enough that I can identify its flagship as the battleship Khfiva. If the Khfiva is still admiral Tfear's vessel then there is no chance that I can best him in the coming battle. Tfear is a brilliant strategist and the Pfhor's oldest active admiral. I'm sure his list of decorations and victories would only bore you, so get back to work. This is the terminal you must eventually leave from, but we have not seen everything yet. Keep searching for old S'pht terminals and return here when you have found them. There are only two, and both are very near to the computer where I first gave you instructions.
virtus<30.4969.692.3>

Bob's Big Date (Terminal 4: 2nd message)


virtus.incertus<77.7777.777.7>
Battle has been joined in orbit and Boomer is taking heavy damage. I cannot hold out for long, but the Pfhor will not soon forget the day that a lone corvette obliterated half of Battle Group Seven, Western Arm. We're getting closer and I have learned much, but you must search even deeper underground. There are unstable magma intrusions in the geothermal shafts under the Citadel. I can't pinpoint a safe shaft, but we'll have to take a chance and drop you down one. Let's hope this world's secrets are hidden in its bowels.
virtus<30.4969.692.3>


Six Thousand Feet Under (Terminal 1)


Lhar-d<39.29c.62.2>
/-/S'pht-Translator-Active/-/ We, the Olders of S'pht, united finally but doomed, have released the S'ct'lac'tr in the citadel. Let these aliens enter here and they will be destroyed.
Lhar-d<39.29c.62.2>


Six Thousand Feet Under (Terminal 2)


EPAL4mm//toneskfa31'loa'kr
EPAL4mm//toneskfa31'loa'kr The Pfhor fleet has won, and Tycho is with them. My ship is crippled. I am trying to make an emergency landing on Lh'owon's second moon, Y'loa. Your current position is too deep underground for me to teleport you out when we are finished here. There is a series of old S'pht terminals in the area, and if you can find them I may be able use them to amplify your teleport signal. Look everywhere. The answer to our questions must be here, but you must hurry. I will need you with me, soon.
EPAL4mm//toneskfa31'loa'kr


Six Thousand Feet Under (Terminal 3)


Yr-c<39.59fc.93.9>
/-/S'pht-Translator-Active/-/ The ships came again today. It was night, I believe; although with all the fires and without rest it was indistinguishable from day. We are losing, it is obvious, but none of the Olders have shown it yet. The enemy does not appear interested in arbitration, though we have not sought it. [?] believes that the invaders are slavers; S'pht'Lhar was overrun last rotation and tens of thousands of prisoners taken.
Yr-c<39.59fc.93.9>


Six Thousand Feet Under (Terminal 4)


ax1-40^23<094.95.28.85>
/-/S'pht-Translator-Active/-/ In primordial space, timeless creatures made waves. These waves created us and the others. Waves were the battles, and the battles were waves. Fleeing all W'rkncacnter, Yrro and Pthia settled upon Lh'owon. They brought the S'pht, servants who began to shape the deserts of Lh'owon into marsh and sea, rivers and forests. They made sisters for Lh'owon to protect and maintain the paradise. When the W'rkncacnter came, Pthia was killed, and Yrro in anger, flung the W'rkncacnter into the sun. The sun burned them, but they swam on its surface. Yrro became an angry master, bleeding for his failure, grieving for the loss of Pthia. He broke the S'pht into eleven clans, and spread them over Lh'owon. And he spoke, yet covered in blood from his exertion, "I Yrro, who was your master, have failed to preserve you. Take your royalty to guide you, and live upon the paradise that you built for me."
ax1-40^23<094.95.28.85>


Six Thousand Feet Under (Terminal 5)


Mnr-e<29.94.91d.39>
/-/S'pht-Translator-Active/-/ The royalty of the clans have shared their knowledge of the S'pht'Kr, each Master holding a line of the truth in secret and another line in common. Each clan possessed two pieces of the whole, gifts from S'pht'Kr before departing. We know the truth of the Eleventh Clan, that they awaited our unity to join us again. These tunnels will be flooded and sealed. Any who find this place can learn the final message of the S'pht'Kr, but we have no time to decipher its meaning. K'lia, whom we have taken, Between Y'loa and T'jia, All in a line, Replace K'lia with the marsh, Take the place to be the mark. Mark the time from our Exodus, Every 459.231 rotations. Search the T'jia side, Quarter way to the sun, Around and under the marshes, When all are one, The S'pht'Kr will return.
Mnr-e<29.94.91d.39>


Six Thousand Feet Under (Terminal 6)


tyche'kr0625.14.1
We have the answer, but I'm afraid that like the ancient S'pht I may be destroyed before being able to use it. I must bring you up to Boomer. The Pfhor clearly intend to capture my ship intact, and I can't blame them for wanting to reverse-engineer all the improvements I've made to their stolen technology. I'd have erased my seven times table to hear what the combat technicians on the Khfiva shouted when they learned I could focus a particle beam at nearly twice their maximum range. Today I have forced the Pfhor Naval Academy to update its curriculum. The Third Battle for Beta Tear must be dropped from the Seven Great Battles which every aspiring Pfhor naval officer must memorize and replaced with The Humbling of Battle Group Seven at Lh'owon.
tyche'kr0625.14.1


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Decoding courtesy of Tim Kolar
tkolar@cisco.com
Maintained by Hamish Sinclair
Hamish.Sinclair@tcd.ie
Last updated Dec 6, 1995