PLANET 17(FT SEMI-OPEN)

by **United World Order** » Sat Oct 29, 2011 8:19 am

http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=147874 <-- People that are in this thread only.
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Planet 17 was what The Comgratians called it for a strange unknown reason. The Comgratian Federation was the first to find Planet 17 and were already planning exploration missions. The planet itself was a dark red and black from space. The Comgratians thought of it as a once inhabitated planet that was destroyed by its former inhabiters. A dropship was being prepped for a sneak peek of the inside of the planet. The dropship could hold up to 50 Comgratian Space Marines which were like armored beasts with there battle suits on.

The dropship was being loaded with 35 Comgratian Space Marines and were inside and ready with there Vulcan Lazer Blasters which were rectangle like guns that fired a red lazer like ammunition that if fired would leave hot holes in a targets body.The Dropship was launched from CFN Warship "Galzar". The Dropship was like a pod as it went into the Planets atmosphere and plunged into the dark ground.

The Marines unbuckled themselves grabbed there Vulcans and got out of the dropship. They examined the ground they were on and were wearing blue or red battlesuits that were equipped with Red plasma grenades and a bowie like energy knife. Some were armed with Miniguns that fired a red plasma ammunition and were easy to carry as the marines headed off to explore.

by **Ularn** » Sat Oct 29, 2011 9:57 am

USN Praetor II, Ularn Justice Class Heavy Cruiser
Just outside the Deimos system

The Comgratians had discovered Planet 17, the Deimos System's sole planet, mere weeks before astrophysicists in the Ularn Interstellar Union calculated the wormhole jump point co-ordinates to reach the system. This near miss was more than just irritating for the politicians on Unity Station whose own laws dictated that the system was now property of the Comgratian Federation, thus denying them any right to the system, the planet, or any of its resources.

But having no right of ownership did not stop the UIF having a look around. The research vessel Enlightenment had been dispatched to the system with Praetor II as its escort. They emerged from a wormhole roughly six light minutes from the farthest edge of the system's outer asteroid belt, placing them legally outside of the system and Comgratia's new territory. From there, they discreetly observed the goings on within the system.

Enlightenment was a small ship, not even a-hundred-and-fifty metres, but equipped with an extensive sensor array and lab capacity. In addition, it carried a payload of three-dozen sensor probes. Similar to the surveillance and security probes used by the military, these probes were geared specifically towards studying astronomical phenomena. Launched into the system from beyond its border, the probes could feed back data to Enlightenment for study while remaining much harder to detect than a ship under power. Unless they already knew what to look for, any but the keenest and closest observers would mistake the probes for so many small asteroids pulled in from the belt by the sun's gravity.

The research ship was, however, dwarfed by its partner. Sitting closer to the upper end of the scale for Ularn warship hulls, the Praetor II was just shy of four-hundred metres long and armed, in addition to her one dropship and platoon of marines, with three laser cannons, six torpedo tubes, and a single gravitic cannon as the main gun. With her three gravity drives, Praetor could outrun anything it couldn't outfight, but unfortunately for her captain, Commander T'chria, her mission parameters limited the potential for either.

While Enlightenment was equipped with a gravity drive of its own (a rarity for civilian craft, who usually had to make do with conventional reaction drives), it could pull nowhere near the acceleration of the Praetor or even a particularly slow dreadnought. That ruled out running; the Praetor could not abandon her charge. As for fighting, Commander T'chria's superiors had been very insistent on conveying to her the importance of averting an international incident with the Comgrations. Her mission was, in fact, this: If they were discovered, the ships were to send their apologies to the Deimos system's new settlers and offer assistance with their own efforts. However, if the Comgratians took umbrage to their presence or observation methods then the Praetor's presence was to convey the simple message that although yes; they could destroy Enlightenment, and possibly even the Praetor herself, T'chria and her crew would make sure the effort was prohibitively expensive for the Congratians in terms of men and materiel.

But unless that happened, Enlightenment and Praetor were simply to continue their mission for the next three T-weeks until they ran out of probes and it was time to go home with their results. In the mean time the Praetor's crew sat idly in their quarters or almost equally idly at their stations. When not patrolling empty gangways, the marines read or played video games or went to the ship's gym. T'chria herself spent most of her duty-time seated in her command throne on the bridge, getting repeatedly annihilated by the ship's AI at the human game called "chess".

by **YellowApple** » Sat Oct 29, 2011 2:46 pm

Outer debris cloud
Deimos System

With the arrival of the YellowApplan research vessel Explorer 0C, the crew aboard the vessel celebrated yet another success in Casimir Effect Far Jump technology. The designs were still in their infancy, but new distance milestones continued to be reached on a weekly basis. Soon there would be attempts to cross into other galaxies, but that would have to wait for the development of further mathematical and astrophysical calculations to ensure the safety of a jump of such distance.

Various reconnaissance craft began their departure from Explorer 0C's hangar bay, collecting samples of Magellanic dust and debris to determine whether or not the atoms required for carbon-based life were present in this system; if they are, then it would mean that the single planet in this system may also have some form of life; it was confirmed that the planet in question was rocky and had an almost Earth-like atmosphere. The discovery of life originating from somewhere other than Earth would be quite incredible, to say the least.

by **Agua Incendia** » Sat Oct 29, 2011 9:59 pm

Zzchyav was possibly more confused than he had ever been in his life. he had woken from what he presumed was sleeping bu he could not remember were he was or what he was doing. He attempted to stand but could not even move his eyes. as he focused he could first move his fingers and the feeling of moving them warmed his hands. The warmth spread until it had reached his chest and slowly from there filled his being. By the time it his hes head sound rushed into his mind. Someone was telling him to sit up he again tried to move his head and found that he was now able.

There was a doctor behind a sheet of glass talking into a microphone. It echoed in the room with nearly indistinguishable lag. but for some reason he noticed it as being very distinct. He sat up his tail sliding of the table and hiting the floor with a soft "clink"

"clink?" he thought that wasn't the correct sound. He heard the doctor say to move his fingers and arms. He did although not to obey orders but to look at his hands. They where a sick shiny black metal. He flinched as though he had been hit.

"Stay calm!" the Doctor yelled, "Its normal to-"

Zzchyav couldn't understand "what had happened!" had he died. He turned to look at the doctor who was saying "it was normal"

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!!" he roared at the doctor who cowered and reached for a button on the desk to his side. Zzchyav charged at the doctor and time slowed. It was as if a blanket was muffling his action and his ability to breathe. He pushed against the blanket that stifled his motions the doctors hands touching the button. As he pushed though the blanket it felt as though it popped and lifted from him. the doctor's hand compressed the button and he collapsed on the floor. As he did a blast of sound shook the room and the lights flickered, swinging in the wires.

the doctor looked at the prone android, there was a lot of work to do. He looked to his notebook and wrote

Patient has accessed the acceleration capabilities in his new brain within the first minute of use but appears to be confused with and terrified of his surroundings. Moving him to a safer and more comforting environment may be necessary to bring him to full sanity.

Brain transfusion apparently successful with some flaws.

[Managed to break sound barrier.] [X]
[accessed accelerators.] [X]

Zzchyav lay on the floor and started to black out as he did visions of a mountain and a sky filled with ash floated to wards him till he was completely shrouded in darkness. in the darkness a voice called him by name and said, "Zzchyav stay calm... you must live"

The doctor looked up out of a window the Planet 17. How intriguing a planet destroyed by nuclear power. What a strange concept perhaps it would provide a respite for the android. he would have more calm and empty environment.

At least that's what you would think...right?

by **United World Order** » Sat Oct 29, 2011 10:20 pm

Seargent Yalando was walking through the deserted hellish landscape. Red fire was streaking into the air off in the distance. The sky itself was red and at some point black but that was mostly the clouds filled with black sut or ashes. Streaks of light blue lighting streaked across the skies. Yalando and twelve Space Marines were moving through a small metropolitan area now full of rubble and desolate bombed out buildings and streets. Yalando kept his eye out always prepared for what might sneak up on him or suprise him or his platoon.

Private Kalgar shook with fear thinking he saw a shadow move from a small building corridor and pointed his Blaster in the direction of it. "Sarge, I think i saw something over there" Kalgar said pointing to the exact spot of where the shadow moved from.

Yalando peaked over and didn't see anything but rubble and lots of it. Wires were hanging from cinderblock probably once apart of a building with working lights and such. "I don't see anything, Keep moving Private.." Yalando said as they moved on and were near what looked like a four way intersection with a gaurdrailed stairway probably leading to a subway tunnel.

"Look over there!" a private shouted pointing his Blaster at a thing that was in the middle of the street. It stopped looking at them like a deer about to be run over by a incomming car. That thing was a locust zombie and it suddenly growled its razor sharp teeth dripping a purple like substance as it ran off and jumped on a ciderblock coloum and crawled along a abandoned building.

The platoon scanned around they didn't know what it was but it wasent good. All of a sudden the zombie pounced at the nearest Marine grabbing him from behind bringing him to the ground and smashed his gas mask seeing lens to pieces the shards of glass puctured the marine's eyes.
"AAAH GET IT OFF!, MY EYES!" The marine screamed as the Zombie tore off the privates helmet and ripped into the marines throat tearing a chunk of it out then eating it.

The platoon fired at it. The zombie dashed off somewhere into the darkness of the abandoned buildings. The marine layed there gurgeling on his own blood surrounded by a pool of blood then he passed away...

by **Ularn** » Sun Oct 30, 2011 1:53 am

USN Praetor II, Ularn Justice Class Heavy Cruiser
Just outside the Deimos system

Yesterday (ship time) one of the probes passed close enough to Planet 17 (or Deimos I, as the UIF Institute of Astronomy had designated it) to take accurate readings of the world's surface and atmospheric mineral content. The scientists on board Enlightenment had analysed the readings and sent some of their preliminary results to Praetor as a friendly courtesy to their protectors, who had been getting distinctly bored with their mission thus far. It was mainly intended for Praetor's engineering personnel who, being of a technical and scientific persuasion (more so than a regular spacer had to be), might have found it interesting. T'chria had read the introduction anyway between chess defeats. Much of it had gone right over her head but what she had understood set her mind and imagination running wild.

The planet had already been observed as a black and red marble; now the reason for its appearance became clear. Planet 17's crust was high in iron-oxides, a veritable treasure trove for the metal-extraction industry. Whatever cataclysmic event had wiped out its civilisation had also thrown much of that into the air as red dust and soot, clogging an otherwise breathable oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere and blocking out the sunlight in a dark ruddy haze. What had caused such destruction was not yet clear. It could have been a meteor impact, like at Erasmus, or some sort of artificial cause. The higher than anticipated levels of radiation in the atmosphere indicated the latter.

That made T'chria shudder. Like the humans and most other races, frekti had learned from the scars earned in their nuclear infancy and survived long enough to make their way in the galaxy. Deimos I, on the other hand, was one more monument to those few that had failed to do so. As nuclear fire purged the surface, great clouds of ash, soot and radioactive dust choked the atmosphere. Those not killed in the blasts or by radiation poisoning would have suffocated or perished in the nuclear winter that followed as the sun's warmth was denied its way to the surface. T'chria had been on Praetor II at the evacuation of Erasmus and seen it happen; read the reports of the marines who came back from search and rescue missions; seen the still photos and video footage of frozen humans lying among the ashes of their colony. It had been one of the most harrowing experiences of her military career.

The worst part was that, according to the dust levels, this cataclysm could have happened no more than a T-century or so before. Long before T'chria's birth, but still recent enough that the UIF might have made it to the system in time to avert the disaster if only the wormhole coordinates had been determined earlier. The natives of Deimos could have become a valuable part of the Federation had they not consigned themselves to an early grave like this.

Closing the scientific report, T'chria sighed and rose from her command throne, nodding at the senior lieutenant on duty. "<I'm going for a walk to inspect the decks. You have the bridge in the mean time.>"

"<Aye ma'am, I have the bridge,>" the lieutenant looked back to his terminal.

by **United World Order** » Sun Oct 30, 2011 3:16 pm

by **Agua Incendia** » Sun Oct 30, 2011 7:07 pm

The doctor rushed to the bridge past a number of marines who shuffled to their post quietly and in a most orderly fashion. The doctor returened to the bridge in time to see the captain finish a transmission with an elect. As the captain turned the doctor attempted to shrink a little forcing himself a little closer to the ground. He stared at his feet.

"What?" the captain said loudly drawing attention to the doctor.

Shuffling in embarassment the doctor started to say, " the android patient has passed the pre-"

"Sir!" an individual at a computer near the front shouted to the captain, " we have arriveed at the location 'Planet 17' what are your commands?"

The captain paced towards the display and looked out the window in front of it. The planet loomed in front of the ship looking largley like her home planet. "Dispatch a crew of 4 in pairs, seee that they look for life and not recreation," she said solidly.

"via drop pod or reconisance ship?" the pilot asked staring at her screen scrutizing thermal reaings of various surfaces of the planet.

"drop pod," the captain said, "make sure they have priority clearence, give them clear chanels, and good suits."

The doctor watched the commander dish out orders for another minute before he advanced staring down and glancing up occasionally. by the time he reached her he had the confidence of a small insect. "uh-um..."he stuttered, "I-"

"What!?" the captain shouted indignantly, "What do you need!?"

"W-well i h-ad a review um.. of the an-"

"get out of my sight and come back when you can speak!" she screamed lowering her head to his level and aiming each word down his neck and spine.

The doctor ran down the wlkway and out the doors stopping after they closed. His knees were weak and he had to force each step back to the lab and until he got there he felt so ashamed of him self. He had the opportunity to help and he was to afraid to do it.

The 4 soldiers assigned to drop got in their suits and strapped tanks of liquid helium to their backs. The group consisted of 2 pairs of soldiers one female one male. The females both significantly taller carried more weaponry and equipment. As they appraoched the air lock a voice went over the standard procedure of dropping. "Step one jump, step two deploy liquid helium. Liquid helium acts as a friction reducer and suit cooling agent. Step three use you wings to reduce speed once inside atmosphere. Step four use leg bracing clamps to land, leg bracers and wing bracers may be discarded after use."

Without really paying attention the soldiers waited for the airlock to open. They had done this enough times that they knew how to without being told. The group on the right grabbed a rail on the inside of the airlock and the pair on the right followed suit. One group veterans and one group rookies, there pulses were the only differnce between them.

The lock opened and the pair on the left got sucked out immidiatly. The pair on the right dropped in controlled uinson watching with a certain amout of mirth as the pair in front of them struggled to control their fall.

It had begun.

by **YellowApple** » Sun Oct 30, 2011 7:26 pm

Some initial analysis of the Magellanic debris samples, upon revealing the presence of multiple amino acids and hydrocarbons embedded in the ice and rock particles throughout the Magellanic Cloud of the Deimos System, revealed that the molecular requirements for life in this system were indeed present. Of course, now was the matter of actually reaching the planet, labelled Deimos 01 by the YellowApple Department of Aerospace Exploration, for further analysis.

As the various support and research craft were recalled to the hangar, the crew of Explorer 0C began preparations for a hyperspace short-jump. The procedure took a total of 860 seconds, at the end of which a rectangular glowing veil appeared at the front of the vessel, eventually sweeping down its length before disappearing into itself.

About 16 seconds later, the veil reappeared in the mid-outer orbital zone of Deimos 01, sweeping backwards to reveal Explorer 0C before once again dissipating. Without any hesitation, the vessel's sensors went active, using a combination of detection frequencies to scan both the surface of Deimos 01 and its orbit, in search of any and all satellites (natural or artificial) or surface structures. The red and black atmospheric cover was quite dense and difficult to penetrate with sensors, however. A shift to higher-penetration wavelengths eventually revealed profoundly rectangular shapes on the surface, indicating that there may have been civilized, sapient life at one time. Of course, the multiple mass spectrometers aboard the vessel indicated a high presence of greenhouse gases and even radioactive elements throughout the atmosphere. In other words, it was quite possible that, if civilized life did exist, it had already destroyed itself, or at least this particular planet.

The three moons, and multiple asteroids, were also of interest. The plan was thus decided. A total of eight 4-piece reconnaissance teams would be dispatched: one to each of the natural satellites in orbit, and three to the planetary surface to investigate further. These teams would each be armed with Morita-III caseless 8x64mm assault rifles, as a precautionary measure, and would consist of a fireteam leader, two riflepersons, and an exploratory researcher. Each of the eight teams, upon receiving their deployment instructions, proceeded to the equipment ward aboard Explorer 0C to obtain their weapons and equipment, suiting up in their environmentally-sealed AppleWear Advanced Tactical Uniforms.

The goal was simple: explore. Precisely what they would find, however, was completely unknown to these YellowApplan scientists.

by **Ularn** » Mon Oct 31, 2011 4:43 am

USN Praetor II, Ularn Justice Class Heavy Cruiser
Just outside the Deimos system

T'chria was ambling down the gangway on deck 3 in the weapons module, deep in thought. While the ship was not on alert, only a token crew of mechanics occupied the weapons decks, making it one of the more solitary areas of the ship. Her reverie was interrupted by the voice of the Lieutenant she had left in charge of the bridge coming through her comm.

"<Captain, I think you had better come to the bridge.>"

"<What is it, Lieutenant?>"

"<You know the science probe that got caught in orbit around the planet? It managed to pick up some comm traffic between the Comgratian ship and the surface. Looks like one of its survey teams ran into trouble with some sort of native wildlife.>"

"<Understood, I'm on my way.>" T'chria set off at a jog for the lift and keyed it to take her down to the bridge, her thoughts now on what sort of creature could survive on the barren, sub-zero wasteland that was now Planet 17. Emerging, she waved the bridge staff standing at attention back to their seats and retook her position in the command throne. "<Do we have any idea what the hostiles are?>"

"<Sorry captain. The signal was weak and largely encrypted. We just know that there's something on the planet and it's giving their marines hassle.>"

"<I see. Comms, send a message to the Comgratian ship. Inform them of our presence and offer our assistance. Helm, set a course for Deimos I at the maximum acceleration of the Enlightenment and have them follow us.>"

"<Won't that give away that we've been probing the system, Captain?>" Apparently alerted to the situation, T'chria's executive officer, Lieutenant-Commander Amco, had roused himself from his bunk and just stepped onto the bridge.

"<It might, or they might just end up thinking our sensor equipment is a hell of a lot better than it actually is,>" T'chria replied. "<Either one is acceptable. Send the message>"

"<Aye ma'am.>"

A chorus of voices followed in the affirmative before the crew of Praetor II set about their tasks.

To: Officer Commanding, Comgratian Vessel
From: Commander T'chria, O/C UNS Praetor II, Ularn Space Navy
Encryption: None
Message: While patrolling beyond your system's boundaries, my ship picked up communications regarding a hostile situation on the surface of this system's planet. On behalf of the Ularn Interstellar Federation, I would like to extend an offer of assistance. I have one Justice Class heavy destroyer with attached dropship and marine platoon and one civilian research vessel on our way to provide support in whatever capacity possible.

At present acceleration we can be in orbit of the planet within six hours. However, if you can guarantee the safety of the civilian vessel then my ship can make way under full military power and arrive within one hour.

Please respond as soon as possible.

by **United World Order** » Mon Oct 31, 2011 4:10 pm

Comgratian Metropolitan Sector
CURRENT STATUS: CODE RED

The Comgratian Metropolitan Sector was the Comgrat base of operations. The base was currently on code red when reports from patrol parties reported seeing flesh hungry creatures with abnormal abilites. Comgrat Command that was on CFN Warship "Atlantis" was informed and that the rest of the Comgratian fleet would be making its hyperjump in two days due to refurbishing of its Command and Control ship. The CSMs on the ground were engaging these creatures that came like wolf packs at times. What they were facing were a entire horde of these creatures that were advancing towards them.

"SEARGENT!, IT BURNS!, AAAAH!" A private screamed from a creature spitting a purple acid like saliva at his helmet. The Helmet's protective mask was melted away and the privates face was being burned from it he layed there in agony unable to see correctly. Seargent Hans was there holding his battlerifle as he dragged the marine towards a plaza like area. Screams and moans filled the air along with the sound of gunfire.

A medic was there and quickly got a canteen of cold water and poured it on his face which emited smoke from his face being burned. When the smoke cleared quickly what was left was mangeled melted flesh as the medic shook his head meaning he had passed. Hans quickly back to the action as one of the zombies climbed over the barricade grabbing a marine and tearing his combat helmet off then taking a large bite from his skull spewing out blood and brain matter. Hans with accuracy aimed his rifle at the creatures feasting face and fired off two shots and killed it.

Others were dieing a similar fate, Some were lying around dieing and waiting for there timely deaths even some were wide eyed with the creatures feasting on there bodies spitting the purple acid on the bites to consume it more better. Hans and thirteen marines made there escape as the creatures overan the base. The only other Marines left were Yanado and his marines that were in a different area.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Aboard CFN Warship"Intimidator"

Reports were streaming in that the base on Planet 17 was overun by unknown hostile speices. The Warship was capable of Orbital strike capabilites if givin cooridnates by ground forces. Other then that the rest of the fleet that included atleast 2,000 Marines would arrive in two days.

The message from the Urlan Federation had arrived aswell and a response was comming.

TRANSMISSION FROM CFN WARSHIP INTIMIDATOR
TO: URLAN FEDERATION

Your offer for aid is accepted. The Civilian ship will be protected.

by **Agua Incendia** » Mon Oct 31, 2011 6:16 pm

The pairs fell towards the planet 17. When they hit the atmosphere it was like a soldi hit rippling through their suits rattling them to the bone and if the hadn't worn thier suits the impact would have been instantly fatal. As the friction built they waited for their suits to hit Critical tmep. Too early and their supply of Liquid helium would run out. too late and they would have their suits melted clean off. The first to deploy the helium was the female rookie. it was border line to early but it was a good time to deploy the second was the female veteran. The rookie chanced a galnce at teh veteran male before deploying his and seconds after the male verterain deployed. The helium cooled the suits instatnly and erased all friction immideatley. Every one of them accelerated to 400 feet per second on the spot and started falling faster and faster. the ground approached at alarming speeds.

The planets gravity was greater then there suits were graded for and the first to notice was the male verteran. he immediatly notified the others and they had 5 seconds to react. The rookie female snapped her wings open and the sound barrier blasted her stability into so many fragmanets she caught her self but still smashed into the ground at mach3 feet first.

The male rookie angled his wings open and braced for the sonic boom that happend immediatly thereafter. Her angled and grazed the ground but bar;ey managed to redirect his momentum to the horizontal plant. It almost worked but the braces on his wings gave outand his hit the ground sliding along at mach2 and he hit a small outcropping sending him flying through the air and through the supports to a building causeing the entire structure to shudder.

The verteran male and emale took the smae course of action. the turned of there liquid helium supplies and oppend their wings about halfway. They turned to a forty five degree angle and landed a mach 1 the requested landing speed. They turned to the building as they heard the shudder of the structure. The looked towards the femals landing spot and didn't even bother checking. She was dead, and thats all there was to it.

as they turned they saw stragne creatures poring out of the building. They glanced at each other and ran. They didn't think twice about their commerade in the building. this was alot of bad guys. The mals turned his radio on but to no avail. It was not getting reception.

by **Ularn** » Tue Nov 01, 2011 2:36 am

USN Praetor II, Ularn Justice Class Heavy Cruiser
Deimos system
"<We have a reply from the Comgratians, Captain,>" the comm officer reported, "<They accept our offer of help and invite us to make way with all haste. Coordinates of their ground teams' locations have been attached.>"

"<Excellent. Bring the ship up to yellow alert and have Sub-Lieutenant Grey brief the marines.>"

"<Yellow alert! All hands to battlestations! Repeat: Yellow alert! All hands to battlestations!>"

The instructions broadcast over the ship's internal comm sparked a flurry of activity across all decks as the crew prepared to make Praetor II battle-ready. Yellow alert was differentiated from red alert in that it meant battle was not engaged or imminent. It only indicated that there was a situation that required everyone at their posts.

For the ship's complement of thirty-seven marines, that post was in the "morgue" - the storage chamber below their quarters with walls lined with sarcophagi - the big metal lockers containing each trooper's sand-coloured power armour. The marines were still suiting up when the door opened and Sub-Lieutenant Anton Grey strode in, somehow already fully suited.

Though he was yet a sub-lieutenant, and thus of the most junior of commissioned ranks, Anton Grey was one of the few humans to have even achieved officer status, and one of perhaps only a dozen who was from Erasmus. Thirty-six T-years old and brown hair already flecked with silver, Grey had been an officer in the colony's police force before spending three weeks underground until Federation search and rescue had dug him and fifty other survivors out of their shelter after the meteor strike . It was thanks to his experience in law enforcement that Grey now held his commission with the Marines.

"All right marines, listen up!" he bellowed, striding down the lines of troopers adjusting their armour, "It seems the Comgratians have run into a little trouble on Deimos I. Whatever killed the planet turned some of the natives into hungry, hungry ghouls with a taste for 'grat flesh and now they need us to help them out of it!

"Our enemy is physically powerful and numerous but lacks armour or weapons. We will therefore be packing HE rounds for maximum damage. Standard bug hunt rules apply; use cover only to evade detection but don't rely on it once combat has been joined. Our target area is also heavily irradiated so you will be using rad shielding on your armour."

Nodding the affirmative, some marines reached into their lockers for the spray cans for adding a radiation-resistant layer over their armour. It was a temporary, but relatively effective measure which needed re-applying once a day to ease the strain on the marines' blood nanites who'd be repairing cell damage from radiation. Others were switching out the drums of armour-piercing rounds for their heavy gauss rifles for the high explosive variety and sliding them into the slots at the back of their armour. While they carried on with their preparations, Grey continued his briefing.

"We will insert from orbit via scimitar and drop onto those zombies so hard they'll think we're a second nuclear bomb! Once on the ground we will support the 'grats in clearing an LZ so that they can evacuate wounded and drop in fresh supplies, at which point we will await further orders. I will be ground-side with Juno One and Two. Juno Three will remain in the dropship to provide air support and reinforcements as necessary. Maps of the target area and other details will be made available by HUD once we are closer to the planet. Any questions?"

"<Sir, how long will we be dirt-side?>"

"The captain has been in contact with command. The First Erasmus legion is being mobilised to support us as we speak and the first troopships'll be here in two days. Until then, it's just us. Anything else?"

There were no more questions, though some marines grumbled. Two days spent operating in power armour made you and your suit smell pretty funky by the end and the plumbing connections it necessitated were...uncomfortable to say the least. The marines finished their preparations and then jogged out of the morgue for the airlock where their scimitar dropship was docked.

by **Ularn** » Wed Nov 02, 2011 9:46 am

USN Praetor II, Ularn Justice Class Heavy Cruiser
Deimos I Orbit

"<Approaching deployment area now. Dropship Juno, stand by to disengage from Praetor,>"

"<Copy that. Standing by,>"

"<Five seconds to disengage...three...two...one...mark!>"

Inside the Scimitar, the marines of Juno platoon felt a jolt as their dropship detached itself from Praetor II. The smaller craft drifted freely for a few seconds, allowing its passengers to experience a brief feeling of weightlessness while strapped into their seats in the hold. Then the pilots engaged the scimitar's twin gravity drives and began their descent towards Planet 17. In the main hold and the auxiliary holds on either side of the ship troopers were buffeted about in their seats by the force of the atmosphere on their ship. Outside, the dropship's nose and underbelly began to glow red hod with the atmosphere's friction while inside it grew uncomfortably hot. The engines were on idle again now, allowing the craft to plummet freely through the atmosphere like a meteorite.

Seated at the front of the hold by the hatch leading to the cockpit, Sub-Lieutenant Grey eyed his platoon through the tinted triangular visor of his helmet. This was the point in a drop when most troopers vomited - at least on their first time. But Juno platoon were all veterans; their visors stayed sealed and their rations in their stomachs.

At about six miles up the engines cut in again. Their descent slowed and the scimitar's shaking grew less violent. Last chance to lose your lunch! Grey mused. After the sudden deceleration the scimitar's glide was smooth by comparison to the previous minutes as it swept through the permanent fog of nuclear dust towards its destination.

"<One minute to deployment,>" the co-pilot warned through the comm. The noise of the wind beyond the hull was still too loud to permit unaided speech. Grey nodded and unbuckled his harness. Using handholds set into the low ceiling for stability, he made his way to the centre of the hold. The other marines were doing likewise; a dozen in all, plus him.

"<Thirty seconds!>"

Grey pulled a length of cable from a winch in the ceiling and fed it through a pulley on his belt. The other marines of Juno 1 did likewise. In both of the auxiliary holds six marines of Juno 2 would be doing the same while their platoon mates in Juno 3 would be preparing the dropship's crew-served weapons. As well as a complement of thirty six missiles of various types, a scimitar dropship was armed with a pair of heavy gatling gausses mounted to a turret below the cockpit. Additionally, both auxiliary holds mounted on either side of the engines mounted three more gauss cannons to be manned by the dropship's passengers. Juno 3 was to keep those guns active while Juno 1 and 2 dropped into combat.

Grey felt the dropship decelerate to a hover. "<We're over the LZ,>" came the co-pilot's voice again, "<give 'em hell marines!>"

Hatches in the floor slid open to show the ground forty feet below and the ends of the rappel lines rippled down like snakes to scratch against the surface. Grey looked around at his fellow troopers. "Many worlds," he intoned.

"<One ring!>" they replied - in unison, yet in a multitude of languages, each decrypted by his translator implant. Grey gripped his gauss rifle in one hand, his rappel line in the other, and dropped through the floor.

Grey hit the gravelly soil of Planet 17 - pulverised rock from the skeletal metropolis around them - and straight away brought his weapon to bear. As the rest of Juno platoon formed up behind him he swept his rifle from side to side, searching for a target but to no avail. The rain of soot blocked out all light to the point that even the marines' helmet torches couldn't penetrate more than a few metres. He tried switching his visor to infra-red but the radiation in the dust played hell with the sensors and just rendered that even more useless than the naked eye. "Dropship Juno, do you see anything?"

"<Negative Juno Lead. We have zero visibility.>"

Cutting off the comm, Grey swore. The world before him could be totally dead or brimming with enemies hiding just beyond the torchlight and he had no way to tell which. He could see nothing through the dust, hear nothing over the wind and all he could smell was the sweaty clamminess of his own suit. He edged past a low wall, crumbling and covered in ash like snowflakes. Grey shuddered as he realised just how much Planet 17 looked like his own Erasmus had done after the marines pulled him from the shelter that saved him from the meteor impact. Only Erasmus had been an accident; an unstoppable natural disaster. This had been done on purpose. Had the people of this ill-fated world even realised what they were doing when they launched their missiles a mere hundred years ago?

Grey keyed his comm to broadcast on all frequencies. "This is Sub-Lieutenant Gray, USN Marines," he announced, "We have just made planetfall, transmitting co-ordinates. No enemy contact thus far. Any Comgratian personnel respond" Repeat; anybody there, please respond?"

He first saw it as just a flicker in the smoke; a flash of white in his torchlight. Grey stopped his slow advance through the ruins and tensed. Behind him so did the marines.

The thing lunged from the darkness with a snarl, black, fetid skin hanging limp from a skull festooned with open sores that glowed with an unnatural light. It charged at Juno platoon and at the same time three fingers squeezed their triggers.

A gauss rifle makes a curious sound when it fires. There is no "bang" of the chemical propellant igniting like with early human firearms. Instead there is a sharp ringing sound as the round is dragged down the barrel by the pull of electromagnets. Once clear of the barrel their is a 'snap' as the bullet breaks the sound barrier, followed by a 'crack' as the HE round detonates on impact with a solid. The sounds are so close together that a shooter hears them all at once and yet can make out each one individually.

Shing-snap-crack!

Three rounds exploded in the creature's face, blasting it to a glowing pulp and spraying iridescent gunge in all directions. Its body teetered forward for another two paces before finally realising it was dead and collapsing at Grey's feet.

More snarls echoed out of the gloom. "Form a circle, two lines deep," ordered Grey and with efficiency born of instinct and adrenaline as much as training the marines obeyed. "Take out anything that moves. Dropship Juno, take position above us and lay down covering fire."

The roar of the scimitar's engine's filled the permanent night air as it added the white brilliance of its own searchlights to the marines' torches below.

Shing-snap-crack!

Behind Grey another zombie fell dead. The sub-lieutenant was glad they were heeding his earlier orders and keeping their guns on semi-auto. In this darkness the temptation would be to waste thousands of rounds blazing away at half-imagined shadows to no effect. As long as they stayed cool, they would be all right.

Shing-snap-crack!

Overhead the dropship spat a few rounds at something beyond Grey's field of vision. It was impossible to tell whether they scored a hit. Then two more zombies staggered out of the gloom together. Marines took down one, separating it at the midsection with brutal firepower, but the other made it to the edge of the circle and barrelled into the nearest marine. The formation crumpled as troopers on either side abandoned their shooting and set on the creature with their vibro-blades while it grappled with the screaming marine pinned held beneath.

"Close that gap!" Grey yelled as he dropped another zombie, and more troopers moved to envelope the melee against the ghoulish onslaught. To their credit, the marines made quick work of the attacker, severing its throat and the tendons of its limbs; all the areas most commonly vital on a normal foe. Something must have worked - and just in time. When they pulled the corpse off of the marine underneath they found the plates of his chest armour ripped loose but the layer of impact reactive fabric that protected the armour's strength enhancing exoskeleton and the warrior beneath were undamaged.

"<You okay, Koris?>" one of his squadmates asked, helping the lucky trooper to his feet.

"<Yeah, I think so,>" the reshian replied breathlessly, drawing his own vibro-blade to hack at the loose plates still hanging from his chest so they would not be a hindrance.

"If you can still shoot, take a place in the back line," Grey instructed, not looking back at the trooper and and keeping his eyes on the darkness before him.

"<Aye sir,>"

Mael Jonohr and G'vash were the first ones to be killed. A creature, larger than the others before it, lumbered out of the darkness spewing incandescent goo as it went. Some of it splashed on the two marines and they went down screaming as the acid ate through their armour plating, the IRF, servos and finally the flesh below it all. Their squadmates grabbed them and pulled them to the centre of the circle as medics set about them.

It was hopeless, Grey thought. They had taken no ground; made no headway against an enemy of unknown numbers which they couldn't see. They were surrounded and now they had two wounded. "Dropship Juno, this is Juno-Lead," he commed, "We're being overrun down here, commence dust-off!"

The scimitar sank towards the ground until it was low enough for the warriors to connect up their rappel lines again. Jonohr and G'vash were the first to be loaded on in stretchers with the two squad medics following them up. Koris came next and one by one each marine was raised back into their transport.

"Hit 'em with everything!" the sub-lieutenant yelled as his numbers left on the ground dwindled, "Full auto!"

The sounds of individual bullets were drowned out as Juno platoon cut loose with the full might of their weapons. There was no way to tell if they hit anything but no more monsters can running from the darkness. Above them the gunners of Juno 3 added their own fire to the mix and the rest of the platoon got aboard with no further casualties. Grey was the last one in. As he looked across the hold he saw the medics from all three squads knelt silently around the ravaged bodies of G'vash and Mael Jonohr. One of them shook his armoured head; neither had made it off the planet alive. Koris was strapped into the nearest seat, looking visibly shaken faced with the two corpses to which he had nearly been a third. Every marine's sandy grey armour had been painted black with the planet's ashes.

"Get us out of here," Grey commed to the pilots. As the dropship ascended he made his way past the beleagured faces of his marines to the starboard auxiliary hold. Some of the marines there nodded at him from their seats. The three gunners from Juno three remained pressed against their weapons, combing the darkness for unseen prey.

"What was that?" Grey thought for a moment that he saw something in the rain of soot.

"What was what?" Muhammed "Mo" Nabi, one of the humans in Juno 3, replied.

"I thought I saw...there!" Anton pointed at an obvious glow coming from away in the distance, "Pilot, come about a-hundred-and-thirty-five degrees starboard and head for that light."

"<Aye-aye sir.>"

The dropship began to turn as Anton made his way back into the main hold and up to the cockpit. they were right above the glow now, and he could see what it was.

"This must have been the 'grats' LZ" he muttered. The glow came from the floodlights set up in the middle of an intersection, shining brilliantly like a beacon even against the perpetual darkness of Planet 17. The light cast harsh shadows against the corpses of marine and zombie alike, yet nothing moved.

Grey stepped back into the hold, "Okay, we're above the 'grat base. No sign of movement but I need two volunteers to come down with me and look for survivors."

"<Sir, with respect, you can't be telling us to go back down there?>"

"I'm not. I asked for volunteers."

"I'll go," this was from Mo, stepping through the hatch from the starboard hold.

"<Me too sir,>" Koris started to unbuckle his harness.

Grey shook his head, "Sorry Koris, but I'm not taking you down with your armour in that state. Anyone else?"

"<I'll go sir.>" This was from P'rata, a frekti who, Grey remembered, had been good friends with G'vash.

Grey nodded, "Good. Pilot, stay on station and be ready to pick us up the moment we see any hostiles. Keep trying the comm on all frequencies and let anyone who answers know that we're at the 'grat LZ and have facilities to get them off planet."

"<Aye sir,>" replied the pilot, "<and good luck!>"

Once on the ground again, Grey pointed at the first mostly complete zombie corpse he spotted. "Get that prepped for transport. Maybe the science boys on Enlightenment can tell us something useful about it.

As Nabi and P'rata set about their task Grey scanned the base. No movement; no survivors. Only a multitude of mangled corpses remained. Above him the dropship's searchlights mingled with those of the base as the pilot began his call.

"<This is Dropship Juno, USN Marines broadcasting on all frequencies. If you can read this, we are holding position above the Comgratian Landing Zone, co-ordinates embedded with this message. We're looking to extract any survivors. If you can reach us, please respond. Repeat, this is Dropship Juno...>"

by **YellowApple** » Wed Nov 02, 2011 10:35 am

It wasn't long before the exploration teams were ready for deployment. However, just before their embark, a peculiar radio message blasted static through the headphones of many of the communications personnel aboard Explorer 0C's bridge. The message was mostly unintelligible already thanks to whatever language it was in, and the static didn't help.

The exploration teams heading to the planetary surface embarked first, but they now had new orders - find the source of this radio communication. It was apparent that either the life on this planet was more advanced than previously suspected, or that someone else was present.

The three Hammer-II Aerospace Transports carrying the surface-bound exploration teams first spread outward, their onboard computers calculating an estimated surface location using the nearly-infinitesimal delays in the transmission's arrival to the three craft. During this time, Explorer 0C's own onboard cluster computer was hard at work synthesizing what it could from the static-filled, jumbled-up message. Eventually, it spat out a random jumbling of words on one of the communications terminals.

This... ...ship... ...Mary... ...read... ...position... Congratulations... mess... extra... reach... repeat... June...

It seemed as if the planet's ionosphere had essentially torn chunks right out of the message. However, three binary numbers appeared below the message.

110100101011010111011011011000110
101000110110010101001110101010010
110010010011011001001011010011010

It was clear that these were three-dimensional coordinates of some sort. Decoding them further was trivial for the onboard computer, but it was difficult to calculate their reference point. A couple of guesses by the computer's examination algorithms, however, eventually found that only one location actually made any sense whatsoever, the other locations being either deep within what was likely the planet's mantle or well into orbit.

These coordinates, and their predicted reference point, were immediately relayed to the three planet-bound transports, which held course and began their atmospheric entry procedures, the preliminary transmission geolocation results coinciding relatively close to the new result from Explorer 0C itself.

by **United World Order** » Wed Nov 02, 2011 3:30 pm

"<This is Dropship Juno, USN Marines broadcasting on all frequencies. If you can read this, we are holding position above the Comgratian Landing Zone, co-ordinates embedded with this message. We're looking to extract any survivors. If you can reach us, please respond. Repeat, this is Dropship Juno...>"

Seargent Yalando flicked the UST mobile device as it was translated to English. He sighed in Relief as his platoon continued on only yards away from the former CLZ and so far only 6 CSMs were left in Yalando's platoon due to the creatures out and the rain of sut and ash that was gone now. The sky was a bright red with blue streaks of lighting flashing in the air.

"Listen up Marines, We got unknown friendlies in the CLZ, These soldiers are not hostile, do not fire on them, over" Yalando said into his Combat Helmet radio as the other CSMs responded with "Understood sir" Yalando had also got word that the fleet was meer hours away and that atleast 2,000 CSMs were going to be landed along with Armor and airsupport. Things were looking good for Yalando and he couldn't wait to meet the unknown friendlies.

by **The Kroot Empire** » Wed Nov 02, 2011 5:26 pm

OOC: I is teh Arkania.

Whoosh….

A Kroot CarrierSphere came out of warp, onto the dreaded planet, named “Planet 17.” The Kroot Master Shaper, Leyvatok, leader of the Famous Kroot Kindred “The Searing Flames”, reflected on the mission. Destroy the infestation in the Great Complex, a huge complex that was previously a hotel room. The reward? A shipment of Krayt Dragon meat, 200 000 Credits, and a crate of pulse/ion weaponry. The Searing Flames were joined by the Ironbeaks, a kindred focused on technology, and the Razorclaws, a Stalker mega-kindred comprised primarily of Kroot from the Wastelander regions. The mutations that infected the civilians were apparently, capable of mutating in combat. Leyvatok shuddered at such a horrible foe. But, he thought, the Searing Flames’s Biological Pyrokinetics would solve any problem.

And the CarrierSphere began to land.

by **Ularn** » Fri Nov 04, 2011 2:39 am

USN Shipyards
Perihelion Station

To the casual observer it might appear as though there was nothing particularly noteworthy of the area of space occupied by Perihelion Station. Out in the void between star systems and away from any of the normal shipping lanes, it seemed to have almost no reason to exist. Yet it sat on what astrophysicists colloquially referred to as a "snag" in the fabric of space time. Termini for no fewer than eight different star systems, including the Ularn system itself, lay within a maximum of nine light-minutes of the station. That made it one of the most valuable assets in the Federation. Perihelion bound the UIF together; the linchpin around which the alliance turned. The Federation's brain might be in the senate on Unity Station above Ularn II but its heart was Perihelion.

Three starfleets defended the forty mile long station at any given time. In peace, that meant protecting the civilian vessels that passed through from pirates and running inspections of cargo freighters to prevent smuggling.

Those were to have been the tasks of USN Marine Scott Kerr, Sierra Platoon, 1st Erasmus Legion, who had recently returned from furlough and could look forward to six months of boring inspections punctuated with the occasional almost hilariously one-sided gunfight with a smuggler who, once rumbled, was stupid enough to think they could take on armoured marines.

Only now command had decided to mobilise the entire 1st Erasmus for invasion. Two thirds of the legion were already at Perihelion, some five and a half thousand troopers. The rest would be here within the next day and a few hours after that they would be buckled into transports and on their way to the Deimos system - wherever that was.

There was a kind of electricity in the air of the marines' barracks. Everyone knew where they were bound and when. It was simply a case of dealing with the anticipation. There's wasn't even the anxiety that accompanied a proper invasion. Everyone knew Planet 17 was a 'bug hunt'; trooper slang for a mission where the objective was to pacify an area of some potentially dangerous animals. Evolution might have turned the enemy into some of the toughest, meanest critters in the galaxy but evolution never met a marine in his power armour. Casualties were a fact of life in real combat, where you dropped and didn't know for sure that you'd come back. The general consensus for a bug hunt was that anyone who got killed did it through their own stupidity. In the past, there were even a few hunts which finished with a casualty rate lower than basic training. Everyone was feeling confident, even making bets about who would bring back the most zombie skulls once they landed.

In the mean time there was very little for Scott to do. After checking his armour over and bribing the quartermaster to "misplace" another half-dozen cans of rad-spray (apparently this Planet 17 was highly irradiated) he found himself in one of the massive hangars that housed the navy's MkIII Titan Landing craft. Looking at the troopships, Scott ran an absent-minded hand through his short blonde hair, just recently cut after Sub-Lieutenant Owa chewed him out for letting it grow too long over furlough. Scott didn't take it personally; chewing out the marines was just Owa's way of saying "Hi". Truly massive, the Titans lived well up to their namesake; hundred-and-fifty metre long behemoths weighing about as much as a ship could while still being able to land and take off from a planet. Engineers clad in their own variant of power armour scurried around the specimen before him, making preparations while a queue of a dozen Dragon Grav Tanks manoeuvred into its hold. Scott recognised one of the mechanics by the loading ramp and jogged over to say hello.

"Yo Amber!"

Jamie 'Amber' Ambrose was one of the few humans in the Federation who wasn't originally from Erasmus. His family had emigrated something a little over a century ago, some of the first terrans to become Ularn citizens. The benefits of growing up in the Ularn school system meant that, unlike Scott, Amber was qualified to be more than just another dirt-pounder. Scott had first met him just out of basic training when Sierra platoon had been assigned to the Moderator class EW frigate Katganistan. Their shifts had aligned so that the two spent a lot of their off hours chatting or playing cards in the ship's mess and they had grown good friends.

"Kerr! How've you been?" Amber replied, turning away from the open access port he was inspecting and greeting his friend with a hug. He was dressed in engineer's armour; similar in design to what Scott wore but with most of the plating stripped away and four mechanical arms built into the backpack. His helmet also featured a wider visor, safety cage and flip-down welding mask. The arms were controlled by Amber through an implant in his brain which made them feel like just another set of hands, only these hands were tipped with a variety of different tools for carrying out his job. With their arms extended, Scott always thought engineers looked like some sort of weird octopus. Amber's expression darkened, "I'm sorry about Dale,"

Scott nodded. Dale Morgan had been Scott's friend, his squadmate and before that his roommate after they'd been rescued from Erasmus. He'd been killed on the way back from furlough when the Fedral Union commercial station Sierra 1 were aboard waiting for transport was attacked. Scott and his squad managed to escape but Dale was killed in the process. He'd been returned to Erasmus for burial last week; laid to rest among the ashes of his homeworld. He had no surviving family; the funeral was attended only by the eleven remaining members of Sierra 1. "I know. They sent up his replacement from Stonesthrow three days ago. Little shit's so green you could eat him alive and count it as one of your five a day,"

Amber shrugged, "Same could be said of a certain marine I met on Katganistan about three years back. Give the guy a chance, Scott. It's not his fault Dale died and he can't help being his replacement either. Besides, it's better if you can try and trust the guy who's watching your back. Pass me that screwdriver?"

"Sure. So how's this yardwork treating you?"

Amber finished replacing the access panel and patted it affectionately, "Yeah, it's not bad. You don't get to know the ships as well as when you're serving on them. I knew every single screw in Kat's engine room. On the other hand, you get to see so many of them. Last week I was replacing the drive core on one of the Vengeance superdreads. There's engineers that'll give an arm to serve on one of those bad boys and when its in drydock I just get given a free reign over the whole thing," he grinned, "The Titans may not be much by comparison but you'd be surprised how much work goes into prepping them for a drop. I'm gonna be pretty busy for the next two days."

Their conversation was cut short as Scott's comm beeped, "<Marine Kerr please make your way to briefing room 19 immediately,>"

"That's me," Scott smiled at his friend. See you when I get back - we can go for drinks or something?"

"Yeah, good shout. See ya!"

by **United World Order** » Tue Nov 08, 2011 6:07 pm

CURRENTLY ORBITING PLANET 17
CGN FLEET GALACTIC
OPERATION SALVATION

The fleet had arrived and was orbiting Planet 17 making a barricade infront of it. The fleet and about 200,000 CSMs were being ready to be sent into Planet 17 VIA dropships. The Fleet also had a massed amount of warships and cruisers Along with Orbital Projection Cannons used for percison Orbital strikes which fire a blue beam that causes an explosion large enough to destroy seven city blocks. The remaining CSMs on the ground were at the former Comgratian Landing Zone and had linked up with the Ularn troops and told them atleast 200,000 CSMs would soon land and take the city.

Scanners which were small intellegence drones had identifed several locations around the city that had large amounts of radioactive head signitures and had the OPCs lock on to the specific cooridnates. The OPCs fired projecting a large blue beam the sound was not very noisy but would do alot of significant damage.

by **YellowApple** » Sun Nov 13, 2011 1:40 am

The landing procedures of the three groundside-bound transports were going smoothly, at least until a beam of blue light suddenly appeared before the transports, cutting through the dusty, icy air and illuminating the skies quite spectacularly. The flight crews and passengers of the transports alike were quite confused; Explorer 0C wasn't equipped with any form of projected energy weapon. This meant only one thing: someone else had arrived.

Back in orbit, Explorer 0C's sensor crews noted a significant alteration of space-time within Deimos 01's gravitational zone - specifically, somewhere on the other side of the planet. This was rather quickly followed by a more visible collection of similar space-time alterations, which were accompanied by the appearance of a rather large quantity of capital-class vessels of unknown origin. Before any form of identification could be completed, the latter group of vessels began firing blue-colored beams of energy into Deimos 01's atmosphere.

Captain Observan, the equine-descended captain of Explorer 0C, was unsure of what to make of the situation. He certainly hadn't been notified of any additional YellowApplan forces arriving, which meant...

No, no, no. If there were existing space-faring civilizations, we would've seen them by now. There's no way in Starswirl's Beard that we weren't the first. But these sure aren't ours. And there's no other explanation... and they seem to be firing something at the surface...

"Comm, get in contact with those ships. Broadcast on all frequencies."

An "Aye aye" came from a young human female toward the front of the bridge, who immediately set transmission channel to "*" and began to speak as calmly as she could in multiple languages, starting with English.

This is YellowApplan Research Vessel Explorer 0C.  We have detected the
arrival of a large fleet of capital vessels of unknown identity and origin.
We request that these vessels identify themselves.

Esto es YellowApplan buque de investigación Explorador de 0C. Hemos 
detectado la llegada de una gran flota de barcos de capital de identidad 
desconocida y de origen. Solicitamos que estos vasos se identifican.

C'est YellowApplan navire de recherche Explorateur 0C. Nous avons 
détecté l'arrivée d'une flotte importante de navires de capital d'identité 
inconnue et l'origine. Nous demandons que ces navires s'identifient.

Jeto YellowApplan nauchno-issledovatel'skogo sudna Provodnik 0S. 
My obnaruzhili, pribytie bol'shogo parka stolicy suda neizvestnye lichnosti 
i proishozhdenija. My prosim, chtoby jeti suda nazvat' sebja.

Kore ha YellowApplan chousa sen ekusupuroーra 0 C desu. Wareware ha, 
michi no aidentiti to kigen no shihon no fune no dai kantai no touchaku wo 
kenshutsu shi te iru. Wareware ha, korera no kekan ha karera jishin wo 
shikibetsu suru koto wo youkyuu suru.

zhè shìYellowApplan diào chá chuán  zǒng guǎn0C。 wǒ men  yǐ jīng  fā 
xiàn le;liǎo;liào  yī gè  bù míng  shēn fèn hé  chǎn dì de;dì;dí  zī běn  chuán 
zhī de;dì;dí  dà xíng  chuán duì de;dì;dí  dào lái。 wǒ men  yào qiú;yāo qiú  
zhè xiē  chuán zhī  shí bié  zì jǐ。

Hopefully, whoever this new participant was would understand at least one of the many languages. Or even receive the message at all.

by **Ularn** » Sun Nov 13, 2011 8:34 am

USN Praetor II, Ularn Justice Class Heavy Cruiser
Planet 17

When Dropship Juno had finally departed the surface of Planet 17 with it's cargo of thirty-five marines, their two dead and three zombie corpses, Sub-Lieutenant Grey had been surprised to see a second ship alongside the Praetor. It's small size and single laser turret marked it as a Sword class corvette and once he was back aboard the Praetor he learned that it was the Rapier III, captained by the ambitious sub-commander K'shack as his first independent command.The small, speedy ship had been dispatched specifically to deliver General Marcus Coen and his staff. Coen was the commanding officer of the entire 1st Erasmus Legion, making him Grey's ultimate superior and the highest ranked human in the Ularn Space Navy. Some critics argued that Coen's appointment had been made more on the basis of politics than merit; that the first predominantly human legion in the USN needed a human as it's commanding officer regardless of that human's actual ability. Anton Grey had no opinion on the matter; until now he had never met Coen and, human though he may be, the man was not from Erasmus, making his actual species irrelevant in the junior officer's eyes.

Coen had been present during Grey's debriefing. The white haired general had said nothing, letting Commander T'chria ask the questions while Anton answered them. Coen's expression was difficult to read but at no point did he seem to disapprove of the actions of his subordinate. It was only at the conclusion that he made his thoughts heard.

"You handled the situation very well, Lieutenant. In light of you being the only officer yet to have been on Planet 17, I'd like you to come back to the Rapier with me to help plan our strategy for when we return."

Anton paled, "Return, sir?"

Coen nodded and gave a small, confident smile, "The invasion is going ahead; the senate hopes that by assisting the Comgratians in pacifying Planet 17 we will foster better relations with their government. The 1st Erasmus will arrive and deploy tomorrow. Against the odds you faced, I believe you did very well to only lose two men while, from the video records, it appears you inflicted upwards of a hundred enemy casualties. Our troopers will need to rely on that expertise when they drop."

Things hadn't gone any better on the Rapier. Anton had ended up protesting so much of General Coen's invasion plan. In particular, he criticised the initial stages, which consisted of the standard shock-and-awe combat drop with troops and tanks deploying by grav chute from still airborne titans and scimitars. He argued that such an approach would not be effective against an opponent which could not be shocked by the enemy landing in their midst without warning and would only leave their troops largely surrounded. He tried so hard to impress upon Coen and his staff that they did not face a normal enemy, and they faced him in circumstances which countered every single advantage conferred upon marines by their armour and technology. Eventually it reached the point that the General had dismissed everyone but Anton and told him, in no uncertain terms, that what he wanted was answers, not useless criticism of a "tried and proven battle strategy". Anton had fist asked permission to speak freely before replying that he had no answers to give. The only viable strategy for pacifying Planet 17 would be to bombard it from orbit with so much ordnance that the surface would crack before they killed even half of the zombies. Sending men in was suicide. At that Coen dismissed him too and ordered him back to the Praetor to prepare his men for drop.

Anton had spent the last hour since then in solitude within the ship's morgue. It had taken on a role suitable for its name now. The sarcophagi that had once stored G'vash and Jonohr's armour now also stored the marines themselves. Anton wondered how many more caskets would be full by the time Praetor II returned from Deimoss.

The hatch slid open and Koris entered the darkened morgue. He was pushing a trolley laden with spare armour parts from the machine shop and had obviously intended to repair the battle damage from their last sortie. Surprised to see his commanding officer, the reshian looked from Anton to the closed sarcophagi and back again. "<So we're going back down there?>" he asked.

Anton nodded.

"<Sir, with all respect, why? There's nothing down there that's worth the life of one marine. Mael and G'vash deserved better than this,>" he gestured at the coffins.

Hunched over at the foot of his own locker, Anton looked at his shoes, unable to meet the marine's stare. He wanted to tell Koris the truth; that this invasion was nothing but a political stunt; that the politicians wanted to buy closer ties with the 'grats and the marines were footing the bill. He couldn't though. An officer did not criticise his superiors in front of his juniors, no matter how warranted that criticism might be. Instead all he answered with was, "I know. But we have our orders."

"Ma'am, I'm picking up a transmission from another ship. No encryption - sounds like a human ship,"

T'chria swivelled the command throne to face the human lieutenant at the comm terminal, "<What makes you say that?>"

"It's broadcasting the same message in a bunch of different languages - all of them human dialects. It says 'This is 'YellowApplan' Research Vessel Explorer 0C. We have detected the arrival of a large fleet of capital vessels of unknown identity and origin. We request that these vessels identify themselves.'" The way he said the name of the ship's home nation indicated he knew as little of it at T'chria did.

T'chria's XO lifted his head from one of the weapons terminal where he was helping a junior officer calibrate the gravitic cannon, "<Wasn't the Commerce Secretary at a trade meeting with someone from Yellow Apple?>"

The XO had a keener interest in politics than most people T'chria knew. She decided to rely on his judgement. "<Transmit the following: 'YelloApplan vessel, this is USN Praetor II. Be advised; the surface of Planet 17 is extremely hostile. Comgration vessels have commenced orbital bombardment in preparation for ground-based pacification operations.'>"

USN Harbinger, Ularn Omen Class Invasion Transport,
Perihelion Station

Safety harness secured around him, heavy gauss rifle stowed in the rack to his left, Scott sat in full armour with his eyes closed in his seat in the starboard wing of Titan Lander ER1-6 and let the music from his earpiece wash over him. Compartments like the one Sierra 1 occupied right now ran the length of the troop transport's hundred-and-fifty metre wingspan. Hatches at the rear of each wing opened out into space. When the time came, those hatches would open and Sierra 1 would drop with eleven other platoons onto the surface of Planet 17, their descent made survivable by virtue of grav chutes, and immediately set about clearing a landing zone for the titan to set down with the invasion proper. In the briefing they were informed that their target was to be an old sports field or park; an area of flat, open ground in the middle of a former city, wide enough to land a Titan.

For now though, the hatches remained closed and Sierra 1 remained buckled in their seats. Titans were only designed for two things; landing on a planet and taking off from them. For the journey to Planet 17, ER1-6 would remain secured to the side of the Harbinger with seven of its fellows. An ugly ship, little more than a scaffold with an oversized gravity drive at one end, the Harbinger was one of the Omen class designed exclusively for ferrying the titans around while the landing craft's cargo of marines and tanks got to enjoy the comfort of being cooped up in a safety harness for several hours in zero gravity.

This alone would not have drawn much complaint from Scott, as much as he wished that the remaining landers would finished loading their troops and get docked to Harbinger so that they could be under way soon, but the fates had conspired to seat him across from the Rookie.

In spite of Amber's advise, Scott found it hard not to resent the newest addition to Sierra 1. It wasn't so much the new guy's mannerisms that irked him, though they were irritating enough. The FNG seemed unsure of himself from the get-go, always taking his lead from the rest of the squad and only hanging around quietly in the background; never involving himself unless someone spoke to him directly. Scott had originally sat down with his helmet visor open to let what breeze there was in the compartment keep him cool. When the newbie's constant staring started to get on his nerves he'd flipped the visor down to cover his face behind the opaque triangular glass. Five seconds later the newbie had done the same, for no other reason but that Scott had.

But Scott knew that wasn't the real reason he couldn't stand the rookie. He got on okay with Preshtel's replacement who was just as wet behind the ears. The real reason Scott hated USN Marine Robert Dahlios was because the seat he occupied should not have been his. That was Dale Morgan's chair and while Preshtel had escaped Holland-3 with only an amputated leg, Dale had left in a casket - the squad's only casualty in the T-year-and-a-half since the First Erasmus had been formed. The squad had been hit hard; Scott doubly so and in his mind the imposter before him had not right to sit in Dale's seat until he bloody earned it.

by **YellowApple** » Mon Nov 14, 2011 1:38 pm

"¡Captain! Incoming transmission."

The young woman's voice cut through the relative silence of the bridge, echoing against the graphene and nanotube-reinforced polymer walls as it reached the ears of Captain Observan. He strolled briskly to the woman's terminal, propping himself up on his hind legs with his front hooves on the control surface as he read the transcription of the audio message as it formed in real-time.

YelloApplan vessel, this is USN Praetor II. Be advised; the surface of Planet 17 is extremely hostile. Comgration vessels have commenced orbital bombardment in preparation for ground-based pacification operations.

"¿What in the name of Discord's twisted horn is 'Comgration'? ¿And what is this 'USN'?"

"I don't know, Captain. I'm not getting any hits in the database."

"¿When was it last updated?"

"The mainframe is scheduled to update our databases every week. The last database update we've received was two weeks ago. ¿Is it possible that these factions were unknown before then?"

"Perhaps. It's logical that there would be other interstellar factions in our galaxy, but... I sure as Hell didn't expect our first contact to be us in the crossfire between a war fleet and some previously-unknown planet. Send a reply. Ask them what they know about what these 'hostilities' exactly are. Whatever it is, it must be enough to warrant orbital bombardment."

"Aye aye, Captain."

The woman narrowed the destination channel to the one from which she had received a reply and began to speak, this time in English.

USN Praetor II, this is Explorer 0C.  We request data on the hostile elements
of the planetary surface of...

She paused for a second, trying to remember what they called Deimos 01.

..."Planet 17".  We also request clarification on the specific locations currently
undergoing orbital bombardment.  Please respond promptly.

The three groundside vessels, upon reaching visual range of the surface, were quite amazed with the quantity and size of the structures present amid the dusty, icy gale-force winds enveloping their airspace. All three vessels activated their infrared sensors - designed to spot infantrymen for pickup in night operations - and scanned the surface, hoping to find something of value from above. Given the beams of bright blue light continuing to fall upon the surface off in the distance, it was unwise to land and unload any of the exploration teams until specifically cleared by Bridge Command.

by **Ularn** » Tue Nov 15, 2011 11:26 am

USN Praetor II, Ularn Justice Class Heavy Cruiser
Planet 17

"Got a response from the Explorer ma'am,"

T'chria scanned the written response. "Hail them," she replied, tired of this lengthy back and forth of communications.

"Aye Captain, transmitting...now."

T'chria's reptilian eyes looked straight at the camera built into the throne's armrest, "Explorer, I'm commander T'chria, captain of the USN Praetor II. Planet 17's infested with what we believe are the remnants of a population that apparently nuked itself roughly a T-century ago. They're feral and highly dangerous; I've lost two marines so far on a single deployment. The Ularn Interstellar Federation and Comgratian Federation are preparing to launch a full scale pacification of the planet - hence the orbital bombardment. I don't have the Comgratian targeting data at present; you'll have to ask them."

by **YellowApple** » Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:09 pm

The female communications officer shouted out once again.

"Captain, we're being hailed."

"Patch them through."

The transparent OLED viewscreen at the front of the bridge flickered on, cycling through many colorful patterns of garbled mess before finally figuring out the encoding of the transmission and revealing what appeared to be a reptilian individual in quite well-maintained military dress, or at least so Observan supposed. The contents of the reptile's description of the current scenario, however, left no time to ponder over the excitement of having found intelligent life beyond Earth; the power LED of the triple-camera array at the center of the screen was on a solid green, meaning that - if the transmission protocols and data formats were correctly assumed by the ships's mainframe - the being can more than likely see him quite clearly.

"Captain Observan of Explorer 0C. A pleasure to meet you, Commander."

He cleared his throat before continuing.

"We sent an identification request to all vessels in the system on all frequencies using no encryption; unless the crews of those vessels don't understand Earth-based languages at all, we should have had a reply by now. I'm personally unsure of what this 'Comgratian Federation' is, but if you could forward their specific communications frequencies and channels, that would be much appreciated."

Observan paused for a second, then added a bit more.

"Also, I have three research teams heading groundside right now. I'll be sure to forward your information to them so that they are appropriately prepared. We intend to take aboard multiple specimens of whatever it is inhabiting the planet for further analysis."

by **Ularn** » Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:27 pm

USN Praetor II, Ularn Justice Class Heavy Cruiser
Planet 17

T'chria's tone was urgent as she replied"<Captain, I would strongly advise against landing civilians right now. If you wait a few more days our forces will have established a safe area for your scientists to work in and I'm sure there will be no shortage of 'specimens' for you to study.>"

As an afterthought she keyed a few buttons on her armrest, "<I'm sending you the Comgratian frequencies now.>"

PLANET 17(FT SEMI-OPEN)

PLANET 17(FT SEMI-OPEN)

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