Crimson Skies: High Road to Revenge
by Microsoft Game Studios
This game has been discontinued by the developer. All the information is shown for historical purposes only.
DESCRIPTION OF CRIMSON SKIES: HIGH ROAD TO REVENGE
I’m not sure what was worse about waking up this morning—the hangover that felt like a fully loaded bomber had crashed somewhere near the top of my skull, or the lovingly polished gun barrel aimed at roughly the same spot. Now, I’ve always said that if you’re going to threaten a man’s life, you should at least wait until he’s had a bit of breakfast and some hair of the dog…that’s only common courtesy. Too bad not everyone agrees.Nathan's bad morningI’ll admit I entertained the notion that my two little morning problems were related. There are some North American nations where it’s illegal to wake up with a hangover—or at least to indulge in the sort of drink which causes you to wake up with a hangover—but two things told even my indulgence-addled brain that I wasn’t on the wrong end of a liquor raid.
First, I was fairly sure I’d fallen asleep in the Nation of Hollywood, proud supporter of all fashionable social vices. Anyone preaching Prohibition in this former State of California would find only heated debate or, worse, patronizing indifference. Second, and more to the point, your average lawman doesn’t cackle like a self-satisfied Dixie farmer swapping his ugliest daughter for a prize-winning hog. No, this sounded personal.
Another observation: the click of a revolver’s hammer is not my favorite cure for morning-after disorientation, but believe me, it works. A bushy moustache blurred into view, between a set of beady eyes and a crimson jacket so bright that it would make even a sober man wince at oh-god-thirty in the morning.
Thibodeaux.
“Steady, Nathan, steady now.” The oily, accented voice of the Cajun pirate practically brimmed over with smugness. A few memories from the previous evening were starting to emerge from my champagne haze, and they weren’t exactly promising. Thibodeaux motioned with his gun as he glanced around the room, obviously looking for something. “No sudden movements… steady…”
The man with the gunFor just an instant, his attention shifted from me to the wallet and keys on my bedside table. Now, if my life was a Douglas Fairbanks picture, I’d have leapt out of bed, knocked the gun aside, and floored the joker with one punch. But reality is a sorry substitute for dramatic license, and my prospects as a hero were dampened by a monumental headache and a strong instinct for survival. The moment came and went, and all I did was wait. Smiling, Thibodeaux crossed the room and collected my belongings.
“That’s the problem with the high-stakes table, mate—a few bad hands, and you can lose everything.” Yeah, tell me about it. A vague recollection of three queens and the deed to the Pandora rattled uncomfortably around my head, and it didn’t take a genius to deduce that the former had failed to preserve my claim on the latter. Thibodeaux backed slowly towards the door, holding out my wallet as if he expected me to try and grab it back. “Your money, your zeppelin…” he dangled my keys, jingling them with obvious pleasure, “your plane…”
Okay, that was too much. Not that I was planning to let the swaggering bastard walk off with my livelihood, but a man can only take so much goading before his plans change from recovery to revenge. I would now be getting even with ol’ “Wild Card” Thibodeaux, and if there was any sort of justice in the world, the payback would occur at 6 a.m. on the morning after a raucous party. Though honestly, I’d settle for a good right hook to the jaw. And the Cajun wasn’t improving his popularity by continuing to lecture me. “A man should never mix champagne and poker. Good spirits lead to bad wagers.”
He had me there, but I still couldn’t quite believe I’d actually wagered my Devastator. Although…something was tugging firmly at the fuzzy edges of my memory. Something that I’d overlooked…something important…
The redheadAs if on cue, the blanket beside me shifted and a rumpled red hairdo emerged. Nearly to the door now, Thibodeaux made a small bow and a sound of mock embarrassment. Ohhhhhhh, yes. That was it, the big gamble—one last hand, all or nothing, to impress the pretty girl. And who had suggested it? Who was the one who’d chummed up to me with another glass of expensive bubbly and expounded on the female adoration of men who live dangerously?
“Oh! Pardon the intrusion, ma cherie! But a shrewd gambler always collects his debts early.”
Thibodeaux.
Louis damned Thibodeaux, who flashed one last smile and fled the room with the keys to my plane in his hand. “So long, Nathan!”
No way in hell. The instant he left, I was off the line like a supercharged racer and setting a new world’s record for speed-dressing. Somewhere between the socks and the buttons on my shirt, I remembered my manners, and turned to the auburn-haired vision who’d inadvertently cost me more than just a good night’s sleep.
“Well, I trust I was a gentleman last night.” I’d have to leave it up to trust, since I couldn’t remember a damned thing, more’s the pity. As I pulled on my flight jacket, I heard the familiar whine of my Devastator’s engine starting up outside. I flashed the Hollywood beauty my best smile and prepared to make a run for it. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a plane to catch.”
Catching a planeWhile I might have been luckless at poker, I was ironically fortunate in my choice of room—it was located halfway down the airstrip and only a stone’s throw away. As my Devastator started her takeoff, I was dashing madly to intercept her. Sure enough, I caught the edge of the lower right wing as she went by, and swung myself up like a seasoned acrobat. It’s funny what a bit of adrenaline can do…of course, ten seconds later I was cursing myself for a fool when Thibodeaux climbed sharply skywards. The plane’s wing-mounted machine guns may have saved my hide many times in the past, but never more literally than today. I’ll wager a bottle of last night’s champagne that my fingers left dents in the gunmetal.
Once the Cajun leveled off, I released my death-grip on the cannon and made my way across the wing. You know, it actually took Thibodeaux a few moments to notice me, even when I was barely two feet away and staring into the cockpit. If I was feeling petty, I’d call him a self-absorbed fool…but in all honesty, how often does an old friend stop by to visit when you’re a thousand feet up and the only plane for miles around?
Thibodeaux’s bayou accent gets twice as thick when he’s angry or surprised, and he was certainly sputtering then. “Nathan, are you crazy?!? This is my plane now!” Well, maybe so, but the Cajun had been in such a hurry to take off with his prize that he’d made an amateur’s mistake. He hadn’t bothered to fasten the cockpit harness.
And here I’d thought this was going to be difficult.
Dropping in“Yeah, well, you win some…” I smiled as I reached for a cord on Thibodeaux’s jacket and pulled, hard. “And you lose some.” The look on the Cajun’s face as he realized what I’d just done was almost worth this morning’s rude awakening. As his parachute snapped out behind him, the drag pulled Thibodeaux neatly out of the cockpit and into the air. I’d have loved to watch him sail down to the ocean below, but I was a bit more interested in reuniting a certain wingwalking pilot with a set of unmanned controls.
You couldn’t call my midair boarding technique elegant or skillful, but then, I never claimed to be an airshow performer. I just counted myself lucky not to kick the ‘stick on my way into the cockpit. As I slid into my accustomed seat, a faint, drawled shout echoed after me, “I still have your zeppelin!”
Indeed he did, and I’d have to do something about that, fast. A pirate without a base is just a target on the wing, and the Pandora was essential to the operation of our gang. If I lost the zep, I’d might as well write off the Fortune Hunters, and odds were good that they wouldn’t like that idea any more than I did. Time to call in reinforcements. I set a course for the pirate-friendly island of Sea Haven and radioed my wingman. “Hey, Betty, are you out there?”
“Nathan! Where the hell have you been?” Betty’s blunt talk and Brooklyn twang had never been more welcome. I sure didn’t look forward to explaining the loss of the Pandora, but I knew she’d forgive me…eventually. And I was going to need help, both to recover our zep and to play a few aces on the man who’d swindled it from me.
Oh, yes. It was payback time.
SPECIFICATIONS OF CRIMSON SKIES: HIGH ROAD TO REVENGE
Genre: Action
Language: English
Platform: Xbox
Client: Stand alone
Interface: 3D Third Person
Time: Real Time
ESRB: Teen
Mass Multiplayer: No
Status: Gold
Language: English
Platform: Xbox
Client: Stand alone
Interface: 3D Third Person
Time: Real Time
ESRB: Teen
Mass Multiplayer: No
Status: Gold
CRIMSON SKIES: HIGH ROAD TO REVENGE COSTS:
Software: $49.99Subscription: X-box live subscription
MAKE MONEY PLAYING CRIMSON SKIES: HIGH ROAD TO REVENGE
Legal market: NoBlack market: No
CRIMSON SKIES: HIGH ROAD TO REVENGE REQUIRES:
N/A
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