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Typhoon 4 to Typhoon 6:
"I'm sure we will, Ms. South. We medics gotta stick together, right?" He smiles, showing rotted teeth.

Typhoon 4 to Typhoon:
"Tommy Riker, at your cough service. Your run-of-the-mill mad scientist; human dissection, illegal experimentation, drug abuse, the usual."

If I saw that running at me, I'm torn between either running away from it or straight towards it. :p

Take out my lunchbox of drugs and offer it to the team, either to calm their nerves or to pump them up. Riker takes a few himself.

"Grave, Obsession," you called, "here's what needs to be done." The pair were sent to deal with the P'pees and winged horrors respectively, while you prepared yourself and Toxic for the fight with the rogue freak-beast.

---

Grave/Corpse:


Obsession/Morbid:


Defect/Toxic:

Hours of trekking through the Hazard wastes finally bore fruit as the rogue freak-beast's pheromones were detected by Toxic's sensor arrays. The mummified terror was draped with flowing bandages, and its skin was horribly burned. Those of Hazard believed the rogue to be merely a traitor, but you were privy to darker truths.

That freak-beast is your predecessor. Ten years of service, and he found 'Communion with Hazard'. You are still unsure what that means exactly, but you do not savor the knowledge that that slavering demon is your destiny.

Its bandages whipped about, flailing madly, and buried themselves beneath the sand. Harmless, on the surface, but you knew better. You dodged at the last moment. Your men were not so lucky. Many were dragged beneath the sands, drowned in Hazard's holy wastes. Others will sliced cleanly in half by the deceptively-sharp bandages.

Toxic released pheromones of rage and murder, and you feel your blood boiling together. Eagerly, you pick from a suite of attacks.

((Hey, you purposefully waited for Rodrigo to leave before voting, didn't you? :p What kind of democracy is this?))

A true Commissar should be able to read both messages at once.

+10. We can summary execution some scrub to gain a morale bonus for ourselves.

The howling winds of the Ke'pout desert reflect your callous mood. You sit atop your freak-beast Toxic, uncharacteristically calm and placid. Solemnly, the pair of you stare out into the horrifying wastes, wondering where your first mission will take you.

Your flowing hair dances to the irradiated wind, uncut for eighteen years since your birth. The ceremonial warrior-rags you've donned float calmly to the breeze. The cheering cacophony of celebration back in the tribe is drowned out by the shrieking storm. You gently grip Toxic's horn, his shaven head not having much to hold on to. You feel the reverberations of Toxic's rumbling breath.

Knowing that the time is nigh, you clamber down to the nape of Toxic's neck and bind yourself to the symbiotic outgrowth to enter Toxic. Easing into the giant's neck, your biology and his mesh into one being. His sensations are your sensations. Your thoughts are his thoughts. Through years of training, you learned to temper the trance-like feeling of binding to another being, and all systems are stable and combat-ready.

You stride with titanic steps to the tribe's center, with all the wandering nomads of Hazard Ke'pout gathered in one area. Two other Sapiens Machina are gathered as well; the cold, grim Corpse, with her pilot Grave, and the childlike Morbid and his pilot Obsession. The cheering crowd welcome you as the ceremony begins.

---

After hours of celebration, the ceremony ends and the arch-shaman begins the mission briefings, letting all of Hazard Ke'pout to know of their champions' travails.

"Myriad are our foes, myriad are our threats, and Hazard Ke'pout will be struck by those foes and threats at any moment. But with these three brave souls we take the fury of the desert and strike back at the weak!" The crowd lets out a roar of approval. "With the great Eye of Hazard on the Wall granting us sight and wisdom, we are invincible!"

Turning to you, the pack-leader (chosen for your strength and wild thinking), the arch-shaman bows in obeisance. "Avatar of Hazard, great Defect, we implore you! Deliver us from the demons of the wastelands, and deliver us from the tyranny of Decry and Sacrosanct!" The crowd exults your names, and implores you as well.

The arch-shaman outlines four great threats: (You can assign your team to do these missions.)

A. A vicious pack of P'pees and a terrifying Dog are terrorizing a vital trade route. Only one Sapiens Machina is needed to eliminate this pack.

B. Winged horrors have made their home atop a great tree. Though it is a great shame, the tree must be destroyed if the winged menaces are to be dealt with. Only one Sapiens Machina is needed to destroy the tree.

C. A merchant's vessel, loaded with invaluable furs and spices, is to cross the dreaded Pond. Untold terrors lurk beneath the surface, and the loss of the merchants would be devastating to Hazard's war-effort. Two Sapiens Machina are needed to deal with the aquatic monsters.

D. Rumors fly of a rogue freak-beast roaming the Hazard Wastes. Up until now, fortune has smiled on the tribes and the giant has not attacked. That may change at any moment. All three Sapiens Machina are needed to take down the rogue freak-beast.