Dougal DeKree
First Post
I have had fun reading story hours for quite some time, improving my english over the course of time and now want to try writing down the adventures of our group. It may take some time from update to update, since we don't play this campaign periodically. I hope you enjoy it and comments are welcome!
The players characters are Boris (criminologist), Martha (Armsman) and Rico (Pilot) later to be joined by two others.
(1) The Blip
Contact +00:00:06
Dodging violet balls of energy that are burning members of his platoon to charred heaps of dead flesh. 2 casualties.
Contact +00:00:18
Fighting creatures half dog half insect tearing other marines around him to shreds with their muzzles and claws. 6 casualties.
Contact +00:00:54
Panicked flight through thick jungle chased by…something. 2 casualties.
…
And now he sat here in a clean room in a space station built inside of an asteroid, still alive, drinking cool beer of exceptional quality and chatting with the others.
“There is no place like home! There is no place like home! There is no place like home!” Boris thought to himself with a cynical grin on his face. Somehow the present situation really reminded him of that old movie he watched so many years ago. Only a couple of hours ago, everything had been normal. He had been wealthy by corporate standards and close to making it into the upper levels of his company.
In the terms of civilization when politics still ruled humanity and not the five mega-companies (*) that did so now, he would have been a diplomat. Well, a kind of diplomat, actually. Attending social events and conducting small-talk with other representatives was the visible half of his occupation. The other half consisted of covert operations involving industrial espionage, sabotage and the occasional assassination.
Maybe the training he had received over the years to fulfil these tasks helped him cope with the current situation. Most truths of his life had been turned upside down in the last few hours.
No one has access to better equipment than his company’s Security Force – wrong.
When an ambush is set up properly it can not fail – wrong.
There are no manned spacecraft – wrong.
There is no way to travel to other stellar systems – wrong.
There are no sentient beings on other planets – wrong.
There is no other sentient race than humans – wrong.
If there were aliens, they would be very different from a human – wrong.
Right now he was talking with three large humanoids, two a mixture of panther and human, the other being half wolf and half human. The fourth being also happily chiding in the conversation was even stranger – resembling a 4 feet tall furry egg with arms and legs. “Guess I will call you cousin It” Boris chuckled to himself.
But now it was time to stop socializing with his companions. After all he had a duty to do and that means: file a report for the company. How he hated the paperwork. Sighing, he sat down and began to relive the last day full of experiences a part of him still deemed impossible.
The sparely decorated room was filled with the smell of adrenaline and chemical cleaning fluids. The murmuring of the assembled men and women provided a steady background level of noise interrupted by the opening of a door. The man who entered wore a suit that looked more expensive than the average years’ wage of those assembled, his hair grey and a face telling of 60+ hours of work per week. He might be in the late forties, maybe he was younger, drained by stress. Without hesitation he climbed the small pedestal and addressed his audience in a tone used to giving orders and accepting no backtalk.
“Good day! I am August Huber, security manager, Rank 28.” Everyone of the team was a veteran – and none of them had ever met someone with a rank that high before (**). “This mission is top secret and of utmost importance. Two hours ago our radar displayed a contact near one of our most secret research bases. The contact disappeared immediately afterwards. Even if it might be a coincidence, a weather balloon or a technical malfunction, we need someone to go there immediately to see if everything is as it should be. Since we rather believe that it is one of the other big companies going for our property here, we are sending you. Everyone on this team is a hand-selected specialist of our elite SecForces. So much for the introduction. Now.” With a nod, a beamer was activated, projecting a map of the mission terrain on the wall, showing several points of notice.
“Here are the details.
Mission Objective: Secure landing perimeter; investigate coordinates x32’2,y44’6,z08’7; contact research base ASTRA; report status; await following orders.
Mission Terrain : Tropical Jungle.
Mission Start : Immediately. You will be guided to the transport which is currently being fuelled.
Mission Duration : Unknown. Expect some days, a fortnight at most. Rations are provided.
In charge of this mission is Boris, Special Ops (Rank 38). Your pilot will be Lt. Rico (Rank 46), he is currently preparing the departure. The platoon leader is Gunnery Sergeant Martha Dodger, a heavy weapons specialist.
If you encounter hostilities, you are permitted to use all means necessary to enforce our interests. You will be provided with combat armour and weapons of your choice. Proceed to equip yourselves and gather at hanger D14 in 15 minutes. Is there anyone here who feels unfit for this mission in a jungle?” He let his gaze sweep the room, his hard grey eyes fixing on each member of the team for an instant – maybe looking for a sign of unstableness. “No? Then good luck.”
Without as much as a murmur the assembled soldiers filed up, left the room and prepared for their mission.
14 minutes later everyone was seated inside of a strange combat helicopter clamped onto some sort of rails inside of a huge cargo-jet awaiting the takeoff. Looking around, Boris thought about how much noise a metal detector would make if they were to be scanned – certainly their armament was sufficient to beat anything short of a heavy brigade of the Coloss Corporation. And only Coloss would be bold enough to enter Devons territory unbidden (***). Well, everyone knew that their own company, the Devon Inc., was technically slightly more advanced if it came to hit and run skirmishes in a jungle. His team had laser guided optics, night vision gear, as well as sneak-suits that could be sealed to avoid IR-sensors – sadly in a jungle these suits were only good to cooking yourself alive, since they stored all heat inside). For armament they had the standard assault rifles along with HE-Ammo (only accessible for military personel) and attached grenade rifles. Then there was Sgt. Dodgers Heavy Flamer (which had stickers all over it “Want to know something about Propane? Or Propane accessories?”), and even one of the brand new portable laser cannons that could stop a tank.
“Well, a holiday with a fine incentive…” he thought.
---
The take-off felt like a bear pushing him down into his seat. What did this stupid pilot do? He remembered reading about a strange note in the dossier of Lt. Rico mentioning his “effective but unorthodox style of piloting” – but who cared with someone who had virtually all driving/flying/boating/whatever-licenses that could be had along with quite a number of decorations. The description of Lt. Rico’s daily business was “testing the strain limits of new vehicles”.
The speakers interrupted his thoughts.
“Welcome aboard, Ladies and Gentlemen! This is your pilot speaking. We are set for our destination, the flight duration will be 6 hours and we will be travelling at an altitude of 15000 feet. Please stay seated with your belts closed and be careful when you are moving your overhead luggage – this will help to avoid any injury prior to the mission. You will find peanuts and beverage in the little bar that was the co-pilots seat, help yourselves to it – although I can’t recommend getting drunk before taking part in this little roller coasting we are going to do. In case you have to hurl chunks, please use the vomit bag in front of you. At our arrival we will leave this flying brick with the helicopter you are already seated in – which is composed entirely of special composite materials making it a stealthy little toy, just in case you wondered – drop to about 5000 feet, where we will start the engines and see if we can land without getting all of us killed. Ah, before I forget it – because of schedule issues we will be flying right through that hurricane you all surely heard about in the media. Thank you and I hope you will enjoy the trip!”
“This guy is nuts!” the whole team grumbled in unison - except for Sgt. Dodger, who began sleeping soundly (and noisily) right after entering the chopper. Of course the first impression of their pilots mentality lead to a very precise assessment of the situation. Thanks to the storm everyone on the team needed the bags that had been pointed out earlier and when the pilot entered the helicopter sometime later, his passengers looked quite unhealthy.
Lt. Rico seemed to enjoy himself quite a bit, which got him more than one frown in response. Rico in response only smiled broadly, buckled himself up, grabbed the controls and pushed a big red button lettered boldly with the words “Don’t Push!”. The rear cargo-door of the plane began to open and the air was sucked out violently.
“At least now we will get that stench out of my baby!” Rico told the group over his shoulder – no one noticed, however, since everyone was trying to grip one of the oxygen masks dangling down from above.
What everyone did notice was the roar of the booster packs applied to the skids of the chopper, as they accelerated it with 5G along the rails inside of the cargo bay and out of the plane. Immediately the roaring stopped again and was only being followed by the eerie sound of air rushing by as they plummeted towards the ground.
At 5000 feet altitude exactly, Rico started the engines and recovered control over his craft, which took a while – in height: 4940 feet exactly. After that, landing was a routine task and they touched the ground gracefully and softly. This was Rico’s view of it – the others only saw the ground race towards them while the horizon circled their view madly.
Directly after touching the ground Boris jumped out, rolled to his feet while turning to face the cockpit, Assault rifle ready and pointed at the pilot. “Out! Now!” he growled. As Rico left the helicopter with upraised hands, the rest of the team got out on shaky feet. Boris was fuming. “Rico, kneel down! The rest: line up and someone wake up Dodger! All here? Ok, now each of you has one kick for free – have fun with a little spanking for that little horror show, you aerobatic pilot!” With that and a shark-like grin Boris took his term first, joyfully kicking Rico in his a**. This example was followed by everyone except Dodger, who watched the procedure seemingly irritated. “What are you all doing? He told us we would land here without getting killed and that was correct, right?” Boris head swung around, fixing Dodger with a burning gaze “Sergeant?” “Yes, Sir?” “Shut up.”
While the medic took care of Ricos backside, Boris had the marines secure the landing zone and began defining their position before deciding on the actions to take.
“First off, we will deploy one of those drones to see if we can get a glimpse of what is going on at the destination where that blip was. At the same time we will move there, but a little to the west – we will go around that position and try to get in from behind. Just in case someone took notice of our arrival.”
“The scouts: up ahead, stay 50m in advance. Heavy weapons in the middle, two teams guarding the flanks and one the rear. Rico, you stay with me – and no fancy stuff! Everyone keep radio silence except for important observations. Keep your eyes open! If you see something, draw back silently and report – no fire without permission!” “Indeed!” Dodger answered grinningly, patting her heavy flamer.
When the team departed, the drone was already on it’s way. Contact with it was lost suddenly about 400 feet from the designated target. The last view it had transferred was a reflecting metallic surface.
“Okay, now we know someone’s here and they will know about us, I guess.” Boris motioned the group to halt and went around, giving every team new orders without using the radio. “We proceed as planned, weapons ready and as silent as you all can! In case of contact, we fall back a bit, take up positions in a wide line and defend appropriately.” In the middle again he also beckoned Sgt. Dodger to him “Any chance you will be taking that damn bright red armour of yours off?!” “No, Sir – the propane tank for the flamer is build into the back part of the ceramic breastplate. Even if you order it, I will not go without either my armour nor my hot friend!” Sighing Boris turned away and gave the sign to proceed.
The team moved on as silently as could be expected from a team of professionals. In this silence the sudden menacing crackling sound was all the louder. It was accompanied by violet balls of energy and followed by the pain filled screams of one of the two scouts. The other scout managed yelling “CONTACT!” before he, too, was hit by a ball of burning hot plasma and incinerated completely. The two had been 50m apart from each other.
As the others sped up to cover each other, the source of the attack became obvious. The figure was an approximately 2,6m-2,8m tall thing looking like a mantis that carried two long metallic tubes pointed at them.
Without hesitation everyone opened fire at a distance of about 100m. Several full projectile bursts and beams of the laser hit the opponent – just to be deflected or absorbed by a shimmering energy field around the figure – obviously wearing some kind of combat suit.
Taking in these impressions in the first seconds, Sgt. Dodger acted untouched by the screams and shouts of the other marines around her. She levelled her Flamer but rather used the grenade rifle that was attached to it. The first probing shot bounced off of the barrier of energy, the grenade exploding some meters away from her opponent, sending debris in all directions.
“Some wooden splinters weren’t deflected. Maybe indirect fire will do the trick!” she told the rest via their headsets. “Joe, help me fell that tree behind him!” She indicated a spot low at the trunk of a large Tree behind the…thing…with her targeting laser. Joe acknowledged the target. “Fire!”
The Tree shuddered and groaned, accelerating towards the lone figure. As it was mere centimetres away from the insect-like head, the shield activated again, this time shining in a bright violet light. The trunk fell to the ground in two pieces, while the part that had touched the barrier had turned to smoke completely. For an instant the team stared unbelievingly at that sight. “Impossible!” someone whispered hoarsely.
A fraction of a second later two more marines fell, hit by another burst of violet energy those strange weapons produced. “Verdammt, what kind of thing is that?! Never saw that kind of technology before! Must be Colos!” Boris thought while shooting at the thing. Suddenly his motion tracker picked up two, then four, then six signals rapidly closing in from the sides.
“Julio, Michael, to the left! Frank, Steve, to the right, we got company! Cover our flanks with grenades! Everyone fallback to the landing zone, now!” Boris shouted as the new arrivals came into view.
Six creatures came into view rapidly closing the distance. They had the size of large dogs with a wet leather hide laced with chitinous plates. Also obvious were their razor-edged double forearms and their sharp fangs gleaming inside of their drooling maws.
Only the marines covering the right flank of the team managed to react fast enough, throwing their grenades to stop the onrushing beasts. From the left flank screams could be heard that were immediately drowned out by the sound of Marthas heavy flamer. After she released the trigger the immediate vicinity was blackened, the attackers a twitching mass of burned flesh. Julio and Michael however, one pinned underneath such a monster, only had their exposed hair burned away, the other wounds were scratches and bites (****). They stared unbelievingly at the woman that had activated her burner right at them, without actually hurting them. Martha winked at both of them. “Smokin’! Come on, we gotta fall back!” Already turning, she strapped her flamer to her side, pointing the muzzle behind her towards the ground. After making sure, no one stood near, she set the switch to “steady fire” and began to run towards their vehicle – leaving a trail of burning flora behind her. “Just to slow followers down, Sir.” She let Boris know.
Boris meanwhile grabbed one of the creatures corpses shredded by the fragmentation grenades, shouldered it and began jogging towards their landing zone. The rest followed with the two singed marines lagging behind – the wounds they suffered from the surprise attack were slowing them down part because of the pain those deep scratches generated, part because of the resulting blood loss. When they heard new pursuers, they looked at each other, nodded and turned readying their weapons and switching to automatic fire.
When the chopper came to sight, the rattling of two assault rifles could be heard from a distance, interrupted by detonations of several grenades - then, suddenly, silence. Without looking back the small band of survivors – the team had lost more than 50% - entered their vehicle. Immediately Lt. Rico prepared an emergency start, while activating the sensors, too. “There’s dozens of those dog-things, Sir – and something else!” “Ok, let’s get the hell out of here – fly towards ASTRA!”
As soon as they took off, Lt. Rico went to maximum speed towards the secret research station. At the same time his radar indicated a large object. After pointing that out, the others could see it. A huge, ugly object, gleaming like metal and roughly 500m long and 100m high. “That thing must weigh roughly 20000 tons, if it can be compared with our navies ships” Sgt. Dodger thought aloud. “And I can see no thrusters, jets or engines or such a thing!” Rico added.
“Lt. Rico, try to contact our headquarters. They have to know what’s going on here!” Boris decided.
Which seemingly was a mistake. As soon as Rico activated the COM-System of the helicopter, the big object opened several hatches revealing turrets and opened fire at them – big violet balls of energy, nearly the size of their chopper. The COM-System, however, only produced static noises. “Damn, those bastards are jamming our radio!” Rico shouted, while executing wild evasive manoeuvres, ripping off treetops every now and then. Also he noted that he would have to increase the number of vomit-bags he had on board – those marines sure weren’t that tough when it came to their stomachs.
Meanwhile Boris observed something else. Near the big “ship” as he now called it, the jungle had disappeared. It was replaced by something looking like a big patch of…purple mushrooms? Or was it purple slime? He couldn’t make out details on this distance. Anyway the patch was stretching towards the base they were flying to – and spreading visibly! Also the hundreds of dog-sized critters left purple patches of the stuff while pursuing them, which began spreading, too.
“Rico, hurry up, I get the feeling our time is running short!”
As if to emphasise his words, one shot came dangerously close to their craft, damaging the back rotor. Spinning around their own axis, they went down in a small cleared ravine, which was sealed on the far end by a bunker. “Ah, sorry for the landing, guys, but at least we reached our destination. That building over there is ASTRA!”
Shaking off the drowsiness caused by the harsh landing, everyone grabbed their equipment and began running towards the building that promised safety.
---
(*) : After several uprisings of the populace against corrupt regimes and bureaucracies aloof towards the peoples needs, several companies began accumulating power and soon taking over important functions regarding healthcare and provisions for old age for their employees only. Two decades later, politic governments had all but lost their influence, giving way to the reign of the companies. The companies then grouped together to become even more influential, dividing their territories roughly by continental boundaries. So it came that 50 years after the switch to the companies reign, only five Mega Corporations still exist – Devon (which is leading in high-tech equipment), Coloss (leading in heavy military equipment), Zatoichi (which is leading in software), Burr (leading in extracting raw materials and mineral resources) and MDBK (providing food for literally everyone). Leading only means that the company has a slight advantage here, but still every company dabbles in every aspect.
(**) All jobs are rated on a scale from 100(being lowest) to 1(being the boss) – tied directly to the apartment one is assigned, the luxuries, the payment as well as the liberties one has. While a boss can literally shoot someone else with but a grin and no consequences, doing so with a low ranking leads to forced labour.
35 and up is management, so Boris is actually very close to the upper third of the pyramid, when we started playing.
(***)While conflict rarely is resolved openly, the companies soon learned that doing so on their terrain can lead to extensive damage to both the trust of their employees as well as their economy. Thus special areas were designated, in which conflicts are now resolved. These areas range from arctic over jungle to desert – with the agreement, that no conflict is settlted outside these areas. Most of the time the companies stick to that rule. Thus the “Blip” Devon is wondering about, is likely to be a illegal covert operation by another company.
(****) Some serious luck while rolling the dice for Martha: The player made an E-Critical, rolling above 90 for each attacker and 01 and 04 for her own guys. Lucky them!
The players characters are Boris (criminologist), Martha (Armsman) and Rico (Pilot) later to be joined by two others.
(1) The Blip
Contact +00:00:06
Dodging violet balls of energy that are burning members of his platoon to charred heaps of dead flesh. 2 casualties.
Contact +00:00:18
Fighting creatures half dog half insect tearing other marines around him to shreds with their muzzles and claws. 6 casualties.
Contact +00:00:54
Panicked flight through thick jungle chased by…something. 2 casualties.
…
And now he sat here in a clean room in a space station built inside of an asteroid, still alive, drinking cool beer of exceptional quality and chatting with the others.
“There is no place like home! There is no place like home! There is no place like home!” Boris thought to himself with a cynical grin on his face. Somehow the present situation really reminded him of that old movie he watched so many years ago. Only a couple of hours ago, everything had been normal. He had been wealthy by corporate standards and close to making it into the upper levels of his company.
In the terms of civilization when politics still ruled humanity and not the five mega-companies (*) that did so now, he would have been a diplomat. Well, a kind of diplomat, actually. Attending social events and conducting small-talk with other representatives was the visible half of his occupation. The other half consisted of covert operations involving industrial espionage, sabotage and the occasional assassination.
Maybe the training he had received over the years to fulfil these tasks helped him cope with the current situation. Most truths of his life had been turned upside down in the last few hours.
No one has access to better equipment than his company’s Security Force – wrong.
When an ambush is set up properly it can not fail – wrong.
There are no manned spacecraft – wrong.
There is no way to travel to other stellar systems – wrong.
There are no sentient beings on other planets – wrong.
There is no other sentient race than humans – wrong.
If there were aliens, they would be very different from a human – wrong.
Right now he was talking with three large humanoids, two a mixture of panther and human, the other being half wolf and half human. The fourth being also happily chiding in the conversation was even stranger – resembling a 4 feet tall furry egg with arms and legs. “Guess I will call you cousin It” Boris chuckled to himself.
But now it was time to stop socializing with his companions. After all he had a duty to do and that means: file a report for the company. How he hated the paperwork. Sighing, he sat down and began to relive the last day full of experiences a part of him still deemed impossible.
The sparely decorated room was filled with the smell of adrenaline and chemical cleaning fluids. The murmuring of the assembled men and women provided a steady background level of noise interrupted by the opening of a door. The man who entered wore a suit that looked more expensive than the average years’ wage of those assembled, his hair grey and a face telling of 60+ hours of work per week. He might be in the late forties, maybe he was younger, drained by stress. Without hesitation he climbed the small pedestal and addressed his audience in a tone used to giving orders and accepting no backtalk.
“Good day! I am August Huber, security manager, Rank 28.” Everyone of the team was a veteran – and none of them had ever met someone with a rank that high before (**). “This mission is top secret and of utmost importance. Two hours ago our radar displayed a contact near one of our most secret research bases. The contact disappeared immediately afterwards. Even if it might be a coincidence, a weather balloon or a technical malfunction, we need someone to go there immediately to see if everything is as it should be. Since we rather believe that it is one of the other big companies going for our property here, we are sending you. Everyone on this team is a hand-selected specialist of our elite SecForces. So much for the introduction. Now.” With a nod, a beamer was activated, projecting a map of the mission terrain on the wall, showing several points of notice.
“Here are the details.
Mission Objective: Secure landing perimeter; investigate coordinates x32’2,y44’6,z08’7; contact research base ASTRA; report status; await following orders.
Mission Terrain : Tropical Jungle.
Mission Start : Immediately. You will be guided to the transport which is currently being fuelled.
Mission Duration : Unknown. Expect some days, a fortnight at most. Rations are provided.
In charge of this mission is Boris, Special Ops (Rank 38). Your pilot will be Lt. Rico (Rank 46), he is currently preparing the departure. The platoon leader is Gunnery Sergeant Martha Dodger, a heavy weapons specialist.
If you encounter hostilities, you are permitted to use all means necessary to enforce our interests. You will be provided with combat armour and weapons of your choice. Proceed to equip yourselves and gather at hanger D14 in 15 minutes. Is there anyone here who feels unfit for this mission in a jungle?” He let his gaze sweep the room, his hard grey eyes fixing on each member of the team for an instant – maybe looking for a sign of unstableness. “No? Then good luck.”
Without as much as a murmur the assembled soldiers filed up, left the room and prepared for their mission.
14 minutes later everyone was seated inside of a strange combat helicopter clamped onto some sort of rails inside of a huge cargo-jet awaiting the takeoff. Looking around, Boris thought about how much noise a metal detector would make if they were to be scanned – certainly their armament was sufficient to beat anything short of a heavy brigade of the Coloss Corporation. And only Coloss would be bold enough to enter Devons territory unbidden (***). Well, everyone knew that their own company, the Devon Inc., was technically slightly more advanced if it came to hit and run skirmishes in a jungle. His team had laser guided optics, night vision gear, as well as sneak-suits that could be sealed to avoid IR-sensors – sadly in a jungle these suits were only good to cooking yourself alive, since they stored all heat inside). For armament they had the standard assault rifles along with HE-Ammo (only accessible for military personel) and attached grenade rifles. Then there was Sgt. Dodgers Heavy Flamer (which had stickers all over it “Want to know something about Propane? Or Propane accessories?”), and even one of the brand new portable laser cannons that could stop a tank.
“Well, a holiday with a fine incentive…” he thought.
---
The take-off felt like a bear pushing him down into his seat. What did this stupid pilot do? He remembered reading about a strange note in the dossier of Lt. Rico mentioning his “effective but unorthodox style of piloting” – but who cared with someone who had virtually all driving/flying/boating/whatever-licenses that could be had along with quite a number of decorations. The description of Lt. Rico’s daily business was “testing the strain limits of new vehicles”.
The speakers interrupted his thoughts.
“Welcome aboard, Ladies and Gentlemen! This is your pilot speaking. We are set for our destination, the flight duration will be 6 hours and we will be travelling at an altitude of 15000 feet. Please stay seated with your belts closed and be careful when you are moving your overhead luggage – this will help to avoid any injury prior to the mission. You will find peanuts and beverage in the little bar that was the co-pilots seat, help yourselves to it – although I can’t recommend getting drunk before taking part in this little roller coasting we are going to do. In case you have to hurl chunks, please use the vomit bag in front of you. At our arrival we will leave this flying brick with the helicopter you are already seated in – which is composed entirely of special composite materials making it a stealthy little toy, just in case you wondered – drop to about 5000 feet, where we will start the engines and see if we can land without getting all of us killed. Ah, before I forget it – because of schedule issues we will be flying right through that hurricane you all surely heard about in the media. Thank you and I hope you will enjoy the trip!”
“This guy is nuts!” the whole team grumbled in unison - except for Sgt. Dodger, who began sleeping soundly (and noisily) right after entering the chopper. Of course the first impression of their pilots mentality lead to a very precise assessment of the situation. Thanks to the storm everyone on the team needed the bags that had been pointed out earlier and when the pilot entered the helicopter sometime later, his passengers looked quite unhealthy.
Lt. Rico seemed to enjoy himself quite a bit, which got him more than one frown in response. Rico in response only smiled broadly, buckled himself up, grabbed the controls and pushed a big red button lettered boldly with the words “Don’t Push!”. The rear cargo-door of the plane began to open and the air was sucked out violently.
“At least now we will get that stench out of my baby!” Rico told the group over his shoulder – no one noticed, however, since everyone was trying to grip one of the oxygen masks dangling down from above.
What everyone did notice was the roar of the booster packs applied to the skids of the chopper, as they accelerated it with 5G along the rails inside of the cargo bay and out of the plane. Immediately the roaring stopped again and was only being followed by the eerie sound of air rushing by as they plummeted towards the ground.
At 5000 feet altitude exactly, Rico started the engines and recovered control over his craft, which took a while – in height: 4940 feet exactly. After that, landing was a routine task and they touched the ground gracefully and softly. This was Rico’s view of it – the others only saw the ground race towards them while the horizon circled their view madly.
Directly after touching the ground Boris jumped out, rolled to his feet while turning to face the cockpit, Assault rifle ready and pointed at the pilot. “Out! Now!” he growled. As Rico left the helicopter with upraised hands, the rest of the team got out on shaky feet. Boris was fuming. “Rico, kneel down! The rest: line up and someone wake up Dodger! All here? Ok, now each of you has one kick for free – have fun with a little spanking for that little horror show, you aerobatic pilot!” With that and a shark-like grin Boris took his term first, joyfully kicking Rico in his a**. This example was followed by everyone except Dodger, who watched the procedure seemingly irritated. “What are you all doing? He told us we would land here without getting killed and that was correct, right?” Boris head swung around, fixing Dodger with a burning gaze “Sergeant?” “Yes, Sir?” “Shut up.”
While the medic took care of Ricos backside, Boris had the marines secure the landing zone and began defining their position before deciding on the actions to take.
“First off, we will deploy one of those drones to see if we can get a glimpse of what is going on at the destination where that blip was. At the same time we will move there, but a little to the west – we will go around that position and try to get in from behind. Just in case someone took notice of our arrival.”
“The scouts: up ahead, stay 50m in advance. Heavy weapons in the middle, two teams guarding the flanks and one the rear. Rico, you stay with me – and no fancy stuff! Everyone keep radio silence except for important observations. Keep your eyes open! If you see something, draw back silently and report – no fire without permission!” “Indeed!” Dodger answered grinningly, patting her heavy flamer.
When the team departed, the drone was already on it’s way. Contact with it was lost suddenly about 400 feet from the designated target. The last view it had transferred was a reflecting metallic surface.
“Okay, now we know someone’s here and they will know about us, I guess.” Boris motioned the group to halt and went around, giving every team new orders without using the radio. “We proceed as planned, weapons ready and as silent as you all can! In case of contact, we fall back a bit, take up positions in a wide line and defend appropriately.” In the middle again he also beckoned Sgt. Dodger to him “Any chance you will be taking that damn bright red armour of yours off?!” “No, Sir – the propane tank for the flamer is build into the back part of the ceramic breastplate. Even if you order it, I will not go without either my armour nor my hot friend!” Sighing Boris turned away and gave the sign to proceed.
The team moved on as silently as could be expected from a team of professionals. In this silence the sudden menacing crackling sound was all the louder. It was accompanied by violet balls of energy and followed by the pain filled screams of one of the two scouts. The other scout managed yelling “CONTACT!” before he, too, was hit by a ball of burning hot plasma and incinerated completely. The two had been 50m apart from each other.
As the others sped up to cover each other, the source of the attack became obvious. The figure was an approximately 2,6m-2,8m tall thing looking like a mantis that carried two long metallic tubes pointed at them.
Without hesitation everyone opened fire at a distance of about 100m. Several full projectile bursts and beams of the laser hit the opponent – just to be deflected or absorbed by a shimmering energy field around the figure – obviously wearing some kind of combat suit.
Taking in these impressions in the first seconds, Sgt. Dodger acted untouched by the screams and shouts of the other marines around her. She levelled her Flamer but rather used the grenade rifle that was attached to it. The first probing shot bounced off of the barrier of energy, the grenade exploding some meters away from her opponent, sending debris in all directions.
“Some wooden splinters weren’t deflected. Maybe indirect fire will do the trick!” she told the rest via their headsets. “Joe, help me fell that tree behind him!” She indicated a spot low at the trunk of a large Tree behind the…thing…with her targeting laser. Joe acknowledged the target. “Fire!”
The Tree shuddered and groaned, accelerating towards the lone figure. As it was mere centimetres away from the insect-like head, the shield activated again, this time shining in a bright violet light. The trunk fell to the ground in two pieces, while the part that had touched the barrier had turned to smoke completely. For an instant the team stared unbelievingly at that sight. “Impossible!” someone whispered hoarsely.
A fraction of a second later two more marines fell, hit by another burst of violet energy those strange weapons produced. “Verdammt, what kind of thing is that?! Never saw that kind of technology before! Must be Colos!” Boris thought while shooting at the thing. Suddenly his motion tracker picked up two, then four, then six signals rapidly closing in from the sides.
“Julio, Michael, to the left! Frank, Steve, to the right, we got company! Cover our flanks with grenades! Everyone fallback to the landing zone, now!” Boris shouted as the new arrivals came into view.
Six creatures came into view rapidly closing the distance. They had the size of large dogs with a wet leather hide laced with chitinous plates. Also obvious were their razor-edged double forearms and their sharp fangs gleaming inside of their drooling maws.
Only the marines covering the right flank of the team managed to react fast enough, throwing their grenades to stop the onrushing beasts. From the left flank screams could be heard that were immediately drowned out by the sound of Marthas heavy flamer. After she released the trigger the immediate vicinity was blackened, the attackers a twitching mass of burned flesh. Julio and Michael however, one pinned underneath such a monster, only had their exposed hair burned away, the other wounds were scratches and bites (****). They stared unbelievingly at the woman that had activated her burner right at them, without actually hurting them. Martha winked at both of them. “Smokin’! Come on, we gotta fall back!” Already turning, she strapped her flamer to her side, pointing the muzzle behind her towards the ground. After making sure, no one stood near, she set the switch to “steady fire” and began to run towards their vehicle – leaving a trail of burning flora behind her. “Just to slow followers down, Sir.” She let Boris know.
Boris meanwhile grabbed one of the creatures corpses shredded by the fragmentation grenades, shouldered it and began jogging towards their landing zone. The rest followed with the two singed marines lagging behind – the wounds they suffered from the surprise attack were slowing them down part because of the pain those deep scratches generated, part because of the resulting blood loss. When they heard new pursuers, they looked at each other, nodded and turned readying their weapons and switching to automatic fire.
When the chopper came to sight, the rattling of two assault rifles could be heard from a distance, interrupted by detonations of several grenades - then, suddenly, silence. Without looking back the small band of survivors – the team had lost more than 50% - entered their vehicle. Immediately Lt. Rico prepared an emergency start, while activating the sensors, too. “There’s dozens of those dog-things, Sir – and something else!” “Ok, let’s get the hell out of here – fly towards ASTRA!”
As soon as they took off, Lt. Rico went to maximum speed towards the secret research station. At the same time his radar indicated a large object. After pointing that out, the others could see it. A huge, ugly object, gleaming like metal and roughly 500m long and 100m high. “That thing must weigh roughly 20000 tons, if it can be compared with our navies ships” Sgt. Dodger thought aloud. “And I can see no thrusters, jets or engines or such a thing!” Rico added.
“Lt. Rico, try to contact our headquarters. They have to know what’s going on here!” Boris decided.
Which seemingly was a mistake. As soon as Rico activated the COM-System of the helicopter, the big object opened several hatches revealing turrets and opened fire at them – big violet balls of energy, nearly the size of their chopper. The COM-System, however, only produced static noises. “Damn, those bastards are jamming our radio!” Rico shouted, while executing wild evasive manoeuvres, ripping off treetops every now and then. Also he noted that he would have to increase the number of vomit-bags he had on board – those marines sure weren’t that tough when it came to their stomachs.
Meanwhile Boris observed something else. Near the big “ship” as he now called it, the jungle had disappeared. It was replaced by something looking like a big patch of…purple mushrooms? Or was it purple slime? He couldn’t make out details on this distance. Anyway the patch was stretching towards the base they were flying to – and spreading visibly! Also the hundreds of dog-sized critters left purple patches of the stuff while pursuing them, which began spreading, too.
“Rico, hurry up, I get the feeling our time is running short!”
As if to emphasise his words, one shot came dangerously close to their craft, damaging the back rotor. Spinning around their own axis, they went down in a small cleared ravine, which was sealed on the far end by a bunker. “Ah, sorry for the landing, guys, but at least we reached our destination. That building over there is ASTRA!”
Shaking off the drowsiness caused by the harsh landing, everyone grabbed their equipment and began running towards the building that promised safety.
---
(*) : After several uprisings of the populace against corrupt regimes and bureaucracies aloof towards the peoples needs, several companies began accumulating power and soon taking over important functions regarding healthcare and provisions for old age for their employees only. Two decades later, politic governments had all but lost their influence, giving way to the reign of the companies. The companies then grouped together to become even more influential, dividing their territories roughly by continental boundaries. So it came that 50 years after the switch to the companies reign, only five Mega Corporations still exist – Devon (which is leading in high-tech equipment), Coloss (leading in heavy military equipment), Zatoichi (which is leading in software), Burr (leading in extracting raw materials and mineral resources) and MDBK (providing food for literally everyone). Leading only means that the company has a slight advantage here, but still every company dabbles in every aspect.
(**) All jobs are rated on a scale from 100(being lowest) to 1(being the boss) – tied directly to the apartment one is assigned, the luxuries, the payment as well as the liberties one has. While a boss can literally shoot someone else with but a grin and no consequences, doing so with a low ranking leads to forced labour.
35 and up is management, so Boris is actually very close to the upper third of the pyramid, when we started playing.
(***)While conflict rarely is resolved openly, the companies soon learned that doing so on their terrain can lead to extensive damage to both the trust of their employees as well as their economy. Thus special areas were designated, in which conflicts are now resolved. These areas range from arctic over jungle to desert – with the agreement, that no conflict is settlted outside these areas. Most of the time the companies stick to that rule. Thus the “Blip” Devon is wondering about, is likely to be a illegal covert operation by another company.
(****) Some serious luck while rolling the dice for Martha: The player made an E-Critical, rolling above 90 for each attacker and 01 and 04 for her own guys. Lucky them!
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rivateers. I liked the idea with the architects and the "planted" races ( especially the options that leaves for planting adventure seeds), so i included that. But then i read the supplement books - which disappointed me a great deal. I mean, a robot manual without even one fully detailed robot included? Or a blaster manual referring to another book for weapons - thus combat is not playable without the other book? ![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
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