Corporal Gabriel Vargas stared out at the ocean below him, as the entire carrier VTOL shook and vibrated. Honestly, the state of the VTOL worried him quite a bit, and the fact that it'd taken roughly three tries, and one false start involving them lifting five feet off the ground only for the engines to choke out, really didn't help him any. The pilot, however, had assured them all that he'd get them to their destination safe and sound. Gabriel clutched at the ring attached to a necklace around his neck, a good luck charm, and prayed that they wouldn't all die in a horrible and devastating crash.

Gabriel's prayers were interrupted when someone sitting on the other side of the VTOL pointed towards the sky can called out, "Hey everyone, look! Shooting stars!" Gabriel followed the man's finger, and sure enough, streaks of of bright white threw themselves across the sky. Gabriel noticed the others crowding behind him as they too tried to get a look at the bits of falling debris, and even the other VTOLs had soldiers peering out to watch the light show, giving quiet murmurs of wonderment and amazement. "Hmm... I didn't hear about any meteor showers or anything headed our way." Gabriel heard someone say. The sergeant spoke up, bringing them back to earth. "Alright, come on, break it up! Briefing's about to start."

As everyone settled back down, a voice over the radio spoke up, likely someone back at Rampart City. "Alright people, as you're all sure to know, time is of the essence here, which is why I'm talking to all of you over the radio rather than doing this in person. A little under fifteen minutes ago, the Rampart's sensors picked up several dropships coming in from orbit. They're not of any design we've ever seen and they visually don't look too advanced. None of us are sure as to who these guys are, but the higher ups are hedging their bets on aliens of some sort. Either way, your mission is to scout out the area, find out what they are and discern if they're going to be a threat to us. If not... Try to make friendly contact. The Underground's lacking friends right now, and we could really do with some. You've all been chosen for this mission because of your initial efforts to scout out the islands the unknown contacts seem to have landed on, so this should be familiar territory for you. Remember, stay out of sight until you know for a fact that they aren't hostile. Rampart out."

There was a lot of quiet grumbling that went around after the briefing had been over. They'd already known most of this, and whoever it was that was on the radio hadn't added anything new. "Make contact with aliens?" Someone besides Gabriel asked. "Isn't that a diplomat's job? We're soldiers, not negotiators."

"I think the Underground is a little short on diplomats right now..." Gabriel responded, glancing over to the man.

---

They landed shortly after, as the various VTOLs came in low in order to try and stay out of site and hide from whatever sensors the unknown contacts may have had. Gabriel's squad disembarked quickly, and the sergeant in charge began barking out orders. "Alright men, everyone split up. We need to cover as much ground as possible, and remember, stay hidden. We don't know if anyone else has noticed these guys, but if they have, we sure as hell don't want to be here when they come to investigate. Stay in radio contact and report back any findings. Now, let's move!"

The squad quickly broke up, and Gabriel soon found himself alone, moving as quietly as he could through the forest, rifle clutched to his chest. It'd been a while since he'd been here. The last time had been years ago when Rampart City was still setting itself up. "Familiar territory my ass..." Gabriel grumbled to himself. A lot could change over a matter of years, and his memory of the area had dimmed quite a bit too. At least they had all been issued a map.

A sudden rustling quickly caught Gabriel's attention, and he quickly pushed himself behind a tree, peering just a little bit around it. He debated for a moment about whether or not to radio this in, but it was entirely possible that it was simply native wildlife. In the end, he settled with simply staying quiet and remaining hidden, at least until he could confirm what it was that was moving.

Dacyira, Outer Gravity Well, Colony Fleet D-3, C.S.S. Redemption

Before the Storm

Travel the galaxy, they said. See new worlds, they said. Defend Humanity, they said. That was what the poster said when he signed up for Earth Force, a young man fresh out of college with a head full of ideas and a dream of captaining his own starship. Ten years later, Alfonso Giovanni finally got his wish, just not in the way he expected. He recalled the meeting four years prior, but what probably felt like only one thanks to the cryosleep. Offered a position of “steering humanities future” and protecting commanding not only a ship, but a fleet was too enticing. Thankfully the Warsaw was in dry-dock from a skirmish with pirates at the time, so he didn’t leave Laskowski in the lurch.

As per regulations, the command staff was the first to awaken before arrival, followed by enlisted and support staff, and Alfonso still felt like he was swimming through gel. Briefly remembering the feeling of awaking in the cool goo, the Captain shivered slightly. Taking count of his bridge crew, the man counted his blessings. Due to the special nature of this assignment, he had been allowed to select his own command staff, all of them selected for their experience in colonial protection, initial landings or in the case of Communications Officer DeFranco, First Contact. It was a rare talent that Alfonso was sure would be sorely needed on this planet. Aggressive natives, probably rightly so from the initial reports he had received, the planet was a disaster of inter-colonial warfare and what could be considered genocide of the natives. All in all, far from the original pitch Admiral Farang had won him over with during that meeting four years ago.

Alfonso was lost in his thoughts when the Sensors Officer spoke up. “Sir, we’ve got several contacts coming up. It appears to be an Earth Taskforce, along with an unknown vessel. Earth Taskforce is led by… U.E.S. Clinton.”

“What? Something must have happened, they weren't scheduled to be here when we launched. Can we get a line up to them?” The Captain asked, going over the data streaming in.

DeFranco paused, looking at her screen in confusion. “Negative, Captain, there’s too many signals coming from the planet; the Redemption can’t handle all the incoming requests.”

Alfonso turned his chair towards her, annoyed. Damn low-budget requirements. “Wait, what do you mean incoming requests? What the hell is going on down there?”
“We’ve got more than a dozen requests for assistance, appears to be mass rioting in New Earth city. Rioters are well armed. New Berlin is unaffected.” DeFranco told him, though she appeared worried.

“Well that’s something to be happy about. Situation with the Taskforce?” Alfonso swiveled towards the Sensor Officer, wondering what the hell was going on.

“Captain, some of the Taskforce have opened fire on unknown Cruiser… No direct hits.” He replied, bring up tactical displays and showing the ‘battle’ on the main screen.

“Some of the Taskforce? Why didn’t they all open fire?” Now Alfonso was really worried, and his training under Laskowski kicked in. “DeFranco, keep trying to get comms up with the Warsaw or the Clinton. I want a status report.”

Just as he mentioned it, the Sensor Officer spoke up again. “Sir, four of the vessels in the Task Force are turning towards the other half. Weapons appear to charging… Taskforce ships are locking onto each other.” The man seemed horrified at what he was looking at. Just before he could continue, DeFranco spoke up again.

“Captain, message being broadcast over all channels, drowning everything out… Oh my God. Sir, Magistrate building is under attack by heavily armed forces, Code Omega-221.” She paused, turning to the captain. “Sir, that’s the code for a military coup. That would mean-Shit, my ears!“ She shouted, throwing off her earpiece. “We’re being jammed!”

“Unknown ship identified! It’s the I.C.S. Defiant!” The Sensors Officer almost shouted, turning to the captain. “Putting on screen now. Sir, Taskforce is opening fire on each other.”

The bridge fell silent as the fight began on their view screen. Too far to do anything but watch the destruction unfold before them, the screen dimming during nuclear flashes, though they were safe from the effects. The fight didn’t last long, and soon the only thing the only thing left of the Taskforce was the burning hulks and debris of what was once eight of Earth’s finest ships. The crew turned to their captain, awaiting orders.

Alfonso had seen some action before, but never something as terrible as a close range firefight. “Sensors, any survivors?” He asked, knowing the chances were slim but there might be a few escape pods. Who they were from wouldn’t matter at this point, as a naval officer Alfonso felt no one, not even traitors, deserved to die in the cold vacuum.

“… Most of the Taskforce was destroyed, Captain. Warsaw included but we’ve got escape pods… Clinton active but still taking fire from Yamamoto and Defiant, and the Cape Town has no directional control.”

“DeFranco, open comms, try to get past the jammers.” Alfonso shouted. Then he activated his comm unit, which was hopefully broadcasting to the ships in combat. “Attention, Earth Taskforce and Separatist Ship in combat. This is Captain Alfonso Giovanni of the C.S.S. Redemption and Fleet D-3. I am ordering all ships to cease firing immediately, on the authority of the Interstellar Colonial Peace Council. All of your ships are badly damaged or destroyed; your crews are injured or dying. You all know no one is going to win this fight. Stop firing and maybe you can live, if not your crews will get to live. As commanding officers, you have a duty to protect your crew. Please, stop this madness.” The captain broadcast the message, hoping beyond hope that is could make it past the jammers, and maybe to the ears of the people who need to hear it. He switched the comms to the rest of the fleet now. "Fleet D-3, change course towards the Taskforce. Deploy gunships and activate defense grids. God help us if we have to use them." Somehow, Alfonso knew they might.

@Druby

---

The terrain didn't hold as much resemblance to Diraphus' Packworld as he thought. Some of the trees were faintly similar, but those were sparse in the dense greenery. Diraphus was born and raised in the mid-north, some hours south of the frostier tine expanse. He grew up with bigleafs and some tine trees, rarely seeing a snow or unbearably hot summer. The plant life on this alien world, so far, was as alien to him as the equatorial jungles of the Packworld as a result. Still, he was comforted by the occasional sight of the alien bigleafs, and found his path wandering naturally to each of those trees, so long as he could see one.

A breeze passed through the trees, and the scout thought he heard something up ahead. He took a few more steps forward, sniffing, only to realize the wind was at his back. Di nosed ahead a short distance as Raphus drew his weapons, both bodies now wielding a short bullpup submachine gun. It wouldn't do any good to get attacked without a weapon drawn, especially as a threesome. Di drew a knife from a calf-sheath and inched forward some more as Raphus caught up. A rather large tree sat in the direction they crept, and as they approached it, Di shifted to pass it on one side while Raph went along the other. Us followed a little ways behind Di, weapon raised.

As Diraphus poked a head around the tree, surprise ran through his body and he almost cried out.

---

The ramship's crew was quick to act when the light of nuclear fire reached them from low-orbit. Countermeasures were brought online, and the limited sensor suite was set to active scanning. With most of the Effort's packs still in coldsleep on board the ship, those awake feared the Colonization Effort might crumble before the supports could be laid. As the fight raged on, the ramship remained silent in high orbit, save for their scanners. Mind-noise and the hum of machinery were the only sounds in the quilted hallways.

Hau

Dacyria approach

---

Aurel sat silently on the "bridge", Deep inside the bowels of the lead ship Tar'ee. She was patiently watching the main screen, which had three views up at the same time. The first was the immediate front of the ship, the other was a general rear view with the other three ships in view albeit far enough away to not quite recognize them. The third was a clear magnified view of the planet ahead.

The ships seemed to just glide through space at this point, still on a gradual deceleration. It was peaceful at this point and Aurels eyes were actually starting to get heavy, until system broke a long silence... "Michon Aurel, we are nearing the planet you've dubbed, 'Hub world'. The planet does have a local name." Aurel rolled her neck then slowly pulled herself out of the ships captains chair. She sneered a bit then muttered, "Dacyria.". System chimed in, "That is correct.". Aurel just shook her head, "Needs a better name.". System chimed in again, "The word Dacyria, if compared to Hau proper, translates into 'Poo hole ground foot.' "

The bridge crew began to laugh, save one, Aurel. On the outside she had to maintain a strict, no games attitude. On the inside however there was only laughter, something that she was trying incredibly hard to hold back. It didn't help at all when System asked, "So will we name the systems way-gate, poo hole station?" Aurel pinched the bridge of her nose then cracked a smile.

Around an half hour passed before the world Dacyria became visible through plain optics. System brought up an image of a space station, "Michon Aurel, we are being scanned by a large orbital facility. Scans are showing moderate shielding. At present, they are not a threat." Aurel walked up to the 2-D image and with a simple whisk of her fingers, it became a 3-D interactive display. "The station doesn't seem to be built for war." System reminded her, "We do not have sufficient information to determine your statement." Aurel just nodded in agreement. Seconds later, another view of a small flotilla of ships on the far side of the planet was presented. "What am I looking at."

"Local naval forces, they appear to be unaware of our approach but there are numerous different types. Some have designations, something regarding a "earth".

Aurel rubbed her chin, "What is a 'Earth' ?"

"Unknown, I'd guess its either a national motto or a figurehead."

Aurel ceased rubbing her chin then crossed her arms. "Odd name. What does 'Earth' translate to?" a clear reference to the earlier comments regarding Dacyria.

Systems answer was prompt "A type of Reptile."

"Well that's disappointing."

Aurel whisked her hand again, sending the image of the station back to a 2-D view. She gazed over the images once more then walked back to her chair content. Even with all the activity, there wasn't much to worry about. They had many text books describing the fine details of making alliances and if necessary, war. This was supposed to be one of those text-book endeavors. Hau command had surveyed the region for a while using high powered scopes and readings from far out probes and from previous encounters, this seemed to just be another run of the mill expansion.

---

DACYRIA HIGH ORBIT, LOGISTICS STATION

---

Things were even more textbook when the station ahead opened communication. It took system a matter of seconds to compile the message and present it. “Unknown vessels, you have entered orbit of Dacyria, we on behalf of the ASM and IMIB bid you welcome. If possible we would like to initiate contact and send an emissary, if colonization is your intention we feel it vital that communications lines are established.” Aurel smirked a bit. "I like these people. Straight to business."

The ship slowed even more, with the other three ships slowing in a sort of Vee-formation. They were far enough apart to discourage enemies from attacking as they would have to spread their forces to engage each ship, Giving the Hau plenty of time to hit their foe from multiple angles. The two non-Hau ships had visible weapons on them with [i]Powder 1[i/] having empty external missile racks as well. The two Hau ships though, had no visible hard-points to be seen. This was a genuinely deceptive tactic as the Tar'ee on its own could destroy the other three ships.

A show of force is rarely needed but it seems the new and frail relationship between the 'ASM and IMIB'.. And more so, the male voice that she had just heard. Right as Aurel gave the signal to open communications, bursts of light were visible in the distance. The room went a light green color and blue lights flashed. All throughout the ship, Hau crew rushed to their stations. There was no panic but rather a very uniform and almost robotic transition from peace to war. System brought up images of the distant engagement, in its beginning stages. "Shields are up and enemy scans are being actively blocked. We have begun scrambling their communications as well." Aurel stepped into the center of the room. "All ships, report."

"This is Larfi. We are ready for your orders."

"Duhn reporting. We have them on scanners as well. Not quite sure what is going on but this fight is too close for comfort."

"Raki here, mind telling me why we are at alert? This ships sensors are absolute shit."

Aurel responded, "Alright, we have an active military engagement. They aren't actively targetting us but we do have a decent amount of incoming projectiles." Duhn pointed out, "They are likely missed shots. they are using decent amounts of solid projectile weaponry." Larfi offered an opinion as well, "Perhaps it is some sort of internal conflict? the ships engaging one another are similar in style, with weapons being uniform as well."

Raki jumped in once more. "Can someone describe the weapons? I mean, My crew and I here are just staring at little flashes in space. Is this some sort of prank? to see my ships crew scramble to gun turrets that require manual aiming?" Aurel assured her this was serious, even giving an order to move back. "Raki, I want you to take Powder 1 and head to the outer asteroid belt. I admit I should have taken advice about building the gate further out. I want you to start the project near the outer-most world."

"Be careful."

The other three ships began moving slowly forward, trying to give powder 1 a decent cover from potential fire. They closed in to the station, close enough for any one standing at a window to see them. Granted it wouldn't be clear as day, but close enough to cause some sort of worry as these obviously weren't local known ships.

As the fleet got close, the Tar'ee broke away and moved uncomfortably close. It activate a series of visible, linear beams. As the beams moved all over the station, any one aboard would be quick to notice that there was no damage being done whatsoever. The Tar'ee turned very quickly to a broadside position and deactivated the field blocking scans from the station. With that, a large number of small plates detached from the surface of the ship and held a position, hovering above it at about four feet. They moved to what would seem to be random points on the hull. The spaces where the plates had been seemed to have some sort of off center barrel esque object that only stood out two feet from the hull. Those barrel esque objects began to pool immense power as well as the plates.

The weapons were emitting exotic energies, some of which humanity had yet to encounter but this much was absolutely certain. This was a show of force. There were no shots but rather a simple message, directed straight towards the station.

The message was clear, "Stand down any weapons, Lower your defensive shields and explain yourselves."

((Ok I split this post into two, AB you’ll get your posts soon and Newsun I need your response to my post.))

DACYRIA HIGH ORBIT, LOGISTICS STATION

---

The logistics station was quiet while the crew waited for a reply, the distant humming of screens and generators seemed to grow from a whisper to a commanding drone. The silence gripped everyone with its invisible claws. Still it would be that the warning sirens were quick to break that grip and force their own laws in. Jason looked around more surprised than afraid as the lights in the room turned deep red and the sirens blared. People were looking at their screens in a panic trying to find out what had triggered the alarm. Eventually a young woman spoke out from a few chairs over, “Sir we have an engagement some distance out, it’s hard to tell but it seems the Earth ships have engaged a-“ Her voice was cut short, and for a moment Jason saw the panic in her eyes, there was something more to this, something worse about it. That much was obvious in her expression.

Jason stood up and pulled an errant strand of hair from his face that had fallen there before he shouted over the siren, “Out with it! Also can someone turn off these damned sirens so I can get a clue what’s going on?”

The response from the young woman was hesitant, grim, and dulled by the noise of the sirens, “Sir, they are shooting… Shooting each other sir, they are shooting each other. We are reading a vast debris cloud forming and a large volume of errant shots from the battle.” Some seconds after Jason heard her the sirens were deactivated and he was able to think. He couldn't be sure what was happening but perhaps irrationally he was relived he didn't have to go the alien ship for the time being.

That was when another voice shouted and added yet more terror to the already dire situation, blocked from Jason’s view by the central hologram the man speaking sounded like a frightened child. Regardless his words were coherent enough, “Sir! We have the a-alien ships closing in on us and our scans are being blocked… On top of that we predict fifteen minutes before we impact the debris field! The hell are we going to do?”

Jason sat back into his chair; the room was once again full of panicked people. Earthers were tearing themselves apart all over again and an unknown species was bearing down on the station. Jason finally spoke his commands, loud but not angry, he spoke with a confidence beyond his own feelings, “Raise the debris shield and combat shield, and direct the combat toward the enemy ship. It’s likely the debris can handle the junk. In addition I want you to relay the situation to MSC control and issue stop orders to all ships; they are to hold position until they hear differently.” After that it took a moment but Jason’s orders were carried out. The only thing left to wonder now was if he should open gun ports and arm the defense system before the unknown ships got into range. If he did he would either be saving or dooming more than seven hundred people.

No… He saw the glancing look from the weapons officer every so often, that anticipation of battle and that constant terror that Jason would give the order. It was a look he noticed everyone had, they were afraid. Jason wondered… These ships were not hostile moments ago; things were fine before the damn Earthers started killing themselves. Damn them all for this. The dots loomed closer on the central hologram, small blips hovering above that great sphere of Dacyria. It was then Jason made his decision, to do nothing. He noticed the leader, a ship represented by bright red dot approaching the station, it was only a second, but Jason wondered if he would ever see his daughter again as the red dot crossed into range of the station and held position, the energy readings of guns were visible on every man and woman’s console if they had bothered to look. The ships were armed. Ready. Yet… They had not fired, time was at a stop. For a moment not a soul dared breathe what they knew could be their last. Then a voice which Jason recognized as the young woman a few meters away called out, “Transmission received! It reads as follows. ‘Stand down any weapons, Lower your defensive shields and explain yourselves’. We have not received any other transmission Sir.”

A single deep breath resonated though the crowd of people. Jason shot back back quickly, “Patch me through, now!” It took a mere second and a nod from the woman told him to speak, “Unknown vessel, we will comply with your demands and lower combat shields. As for the incident currently taking place-.“ Jason paused; perhaps it was best if he didn't divulge the ships identity. He continued, “We are unaware as for the cause of the conflict and its participants are as of now unidentified. We are in no way responsible for the actions of these foreign vessels. If you are still hesitant I would be willing to board your ship to ease your fears. I am sure this conflict will end shortly.” Another lie that was, the conflict had never ended; it would never end so long as two men drew breath. As for its participants, they would always be men, humans, children of Earth. So now Jason joined them in peril as he condemned himself to walk, either to his salvation, or to his doom.

His weapons officer looked relived when Jason looked down to him, however there was anxiety in the room. A man across the room spoke out softly, “Sir… Are we really to drop combats? How can you even consider going over there now?”

Jason responded with a much harder tone, “You will drop the combats if you want to live. As for me, worry about yourself. Nothing has changed here and I want you all to act like this is any other day. Understood?”

A single harmonious voice comprised of many responded, “Yes, sir.” Jason looked down to his console and saw the combat shield fall. He couldn't help but think, the debris shield might take one hit if they fired. Maybe.

DACYRIA HIGH ORBIT, SHUTTLE CRAFT

---

Marco had been hunched over looking at the notepad for some time; he had started to make progress at the ever morbid letter when he heard a peculiar warning alarm from above. A glance and he knew it was too late. A collision alert, he blinked and in a second Marco felt the thud of impact. A micro particle he thought, still the impact was loud enough that Marco sighed and laid the notepad down; when he looked directly at the monitor he saw it, the world gone mad. Earth ships were tearing each other to pieces and he was less than a minute from flying into it, the impact was no micro particle either, a stray shot had grazed his shuttles hull. Marco defaulted to his old training and snapped into his seat, securing himself in as he did it. A flick of one of the few manual switches in the shuttle and the autonavigator was off. A small stick protruded from a raised platform beside his seat. Marco breathed deeply and grabbed the control stick to his right. The hud stated it simply, ten seconds before he entered a battle zone.

“Fuck.”

He wrenched on the control stick, sending his ship into a sharp bank to avoid a shell that was flying toward him. Back and forth he went, only on the outskirts of the battle and he had already narrowly survived the ordeal. Marco became fixated on the hud, every red flag and every warning light. The emergency alarm was on but Marco had long forgotten its noise. It was but a moments failure and he missed a flag. Marco plowed into the object. Red. The entire monitor went red and Marco flinched at the impact. The bright lights from the battle gave the red screen an ominous sparkle. Marco hardly had a second to comprehend it, but that was all it took. They were all dead. Dozens of them, most of the flags were bodies. Marco quickly looked back at the monitor, the bombardment of micro particles from the battle had cleaned off most of the red, though the impacts had made the shuttle vibrate violently. Marco struggled to maintain the shuttles path as he dodged and darted, ever evading the point defense weapons firing at him blindly.

Then the hud flashed as a weapons system locked onto him, Marco panicked, how could he stand a hope in hell against that? In his confused anger he slammed the cargo bay doors control. To his luck a backup fuel tank blasted out with a haul of phosphorous, the self-oxidizing fuel mixed with the phosphorus and for ever the shortest moment the blinding flash of the explosion out shone the battle itself. He had bought the time he needed by stupid, dumb luck. Marco cursed himself for that risk. The shuttle blasted ever forward and Marco wondered if he was bound to die in another man’s war. Worse even than if the pirates had killed him. Worse than most anything really, to die as collateral. To be remembered as a digit in a spreadsheet presented to some cold General a million miles away. Still, in a few frantic seconds the madness began to shrink behind him, the lights of battle and the splatter of bodies Marco decided were safer to hit than shells faded. He focused himself and pulled the shuttle up, smashing into the atmosphere so hard it wrenched Marco’s neck and made his vision blur. The flight back was another, longer blur as Marco piloted the shuttle with the horrid pain in his neck and his vision impaired, green was all he could discern of what was beneath him, and he could hardly see the controls he pressed, even then the blur was getting worse.

Struggling against his every instinct to pull up Marco forced the descent, even in his pain. Eventually the MFC strip was in sight, a set of grey blobs before him. In a haze Marco searched for the display button to deploy the landing gear but he could not distinguish any of them, they blended together. Marco pulled his head back up as the pain began to fade from the adrenaline in his system, only worsening his vision. He forced the shuttle further down, closer and closer to the strip. Then there was a thud.

Blurred colours faded to black and Marco wondered if he really was a fool.

High Orbit
Colonial Starship Endeavor
Bridge

"Oh my god."

A hushed silence fell across the crew of the Endeavor as they watched the space battle unfold. Within the span of a few minutes, everything on Dacyria had changed with the self-destruction of the Earth patrol fleet. In all the worse ways.

Yet despite their situation, Captain Sylvana Radcliffe kept a rational perspective on the situation. As a half-Thinker, she refused to acknowledge the scenario on an emotional level, it would just compromise her ability to determine what to do next, and tried to stamp out the fight or flight reaction her body automatically turned to. Instead, she calculated debris trajectories, fire patterns, where the Endeavor had to maneuver to avoid being caught in a storm of debris. And what was left to salvage.

"Helm! Engines ahead full! Get me an intercept trajectory on the main debris field but avoid the remaining combatants." She ordered, snapping her skeleton bridge crew out of their daze. "Now helmsman."

"Aye ma'am! Engines ahead full! Engaging debris shields and point-defense lasers! Um, what are we doing exactly?" The young ensign looked at his stern-faced captain as she was deep in thought, seeking some guide stone in the storm of sudden madness. What he found was a pillar of absolute certainty.

"We're going to salvage what we can from the Earth fleet." Flatly stated Radcliffe, staring at the digital projection of the debris scatter patterns. "The ships are slagged to hell.....but their armories and cargo bays might still be intact or in salvageable state. If we can pick up survivors or equipment, it might just be the edge we need to stay alive until reinforcements arrive, and I bet any remaining Feds would appreciate a timely pick up before debris shreds their pods. Activate Gamma and Iota squads, tell them to gear up for void combat and salvage ops. Lets hope something survived out there."

"Hope so too ma'am. Too many people have died already."

Ishkaar
Muelish River Crossing

The river was on fire. The jungle was on fire. Everything was on fire.

Harris coughed as he dragged himself out of the foxhole he had been blown into after a chunk of debris impacted several kilometers away and blew a massive shockwave towards the river. The combination of his armor and the depth of the foxhole helped him survive. But there was nothing left of the Ramos militia caught unarmored and out in the open. If there was anything left of them, Harris didn't even want to think of what kind of condition they were in. His own men came first.

"Sound off!" He called out, coughing as he brought himself up. Ragged voices followed, along with cry's for medics and help. Less than half of the troops Harris had marched out to the river with were still alive. And they hadn't even had a chance to get a single shot off. What a bloody waste.

"Alpha lead, do you copy? This is Zeta-lead to Alpha-lead, do you copy?"

"C-copy Zeta lead! Tell me your still flying!"

"We're still flying, but pilot is saying we lost half our electronics. We're limping back to base. Sorry we can't lend aid."

"We'll catch our own ride home! You don't risk yourselves any longer than you have to! Alpha-lead out!" Just as the transmission cut out Harris found himself staggering to his knees as his strength gave out. No, his legs were fine, his suit's battery just went kaput, as the cracked power cell couldn't hold a charge any longer. Stripping off the damaged Jacket, Harris stumbled along the line to extract others out of half-mangled suits and fallen positions, trying to ignore the stench of burning flesh and dying people.

It was going to be one hell of a march back home.

Gabriel stared intensely at the brush ahead of him from around the corner of the tree, waiting silently for something to break through. The moments ticked by, and he found himself doubting if there was anything there at all. Eventually, when he was almost sure it had simply been the wind or some of the native wildlife, several figures broke through the plant life. Three utterly alien figures, all of them walking on four legs, with long necks that were topped with little eye stalks, and in their hands they carried guns of some kind, judging from the general look of the weapon. He pulled back behind the tree and radioed back to the rest of the squad. "This is Corporal Vargas... I've got line of sight with three of our new guests and they haven't seen me yet... They're armed, but it looks like they're only just scouting right now..." He also gave back a quick description of of the creatures before the sergeant of the squad radioed back.

"Alright, good. Keep out of sight until I get to you, I'm headed your way now." Gabriel peered back around the tree for a moment, and quickly ducked back behind it, cursing. The aliens were headed closer to him. He quickly looked around for someplace to duck to, but every option had him moving through some measure of open ground, and they were too close for him to get away unseen. He was panicking now. There was no way out and they were getting closer by the moment.

Gabriel closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He quickly radioed back, "Sorry sarge, but looks like I'm going to have to make contact without you..." There was a flurry of questions and requests for clarification from the other end, but Gabriel shut them out of his mind as he moved to reveal himself from behind the tree only to be met face-to-face with one of them. Gabriel let out a scream, lashing out with one hand to push the thing back and away from him as he took a few steps backwards himself, quickly bringing up his rifle to bear. His eyes darted between the three things before him, sizing them up. This is going well, he thought to himself. He grimaced as he wondered what to do next. They probably wouldn't understand a single word he said. Did they even properly communicate through words? For all he knew these things were fucking telepathic. Still, he had to try something. "D-Drop your weapons?" Gabriel ventured. Yea, great job Gabe... You're totally making a good first impression here.

HAU

---

DACYRIA HIGH ORBIT, LOGISTICS STATION

---

Aurel was standing right in front of the main view display, staring anxiously at the station ahead. She was sure at her warship was showing no signs of backing down. It was still in a very effective combat position and what was most likely weapons were still emitting incredible energy. She hoped that her ships extreme power output would still operate as a shock and awe at this point. You can only point a gun at someone so long before fear drains away.

A more ignorant foe would provoke combat by trying to scale arms and show their own force. Aurel knew that feeling, as she had made this mistake in battle before. Her previous vessel was staring down a superior warship in a small military engagement long ago. Both warships were first responder reinforcements to a battle that was nearing its end. As they decelerated from their respective faster than light methods, there was nothing left but wreckage and dust. No one around to hear either ships crew scream if they were to fire.

The vessel broadcast very simple orders, stand down and leave. An easy out for anyone, especially during a conflict that had claimed many lives. Aurel didn't back down though, she turned to broadside her foe but didn't realize the enemy ship wasn't in the mood for games. The second she charged her ships weapons, alarms were going off and half her crew had perished from a massive barrage of heavy weapons fire. She had no choice but to abandon her ship and as a result, spent years in a prison ship.

The conflict was short lived when main Hau naval forces arrived and promptly smashed their foe but even as she got her freedom back, she was still sore from her loss. A pioneer ship was no match for that front line warship.. and here she was in the opposite position. Her ship was the stronger of the two and the enemy's life was at the mercy of her trigger finger.

System brought up an image of the immediate battle space. "Michon Aurel, We have a fifteen incoming unguided projectiles approaching fast from the opposite side of the station. If they lower their shields, those projectiles may damage the station, if not outright destroy it.". This seemed to snap Aurel from her memories, the constant reminders of her past were swept away by reality. "Michon Aurel, their shields are lowering. They are either intimidated by our presence enough to risk being destroyed or are unaware of the incoming projectiles." Aurel took a few steps back from the display but was still very much aware of the situation. "Damn it.. OK, Have side batteries target those projectiles."

System brought up a display of the shots incoming. Their straight path and distance to target gave the Tar'ee a good chance of downing the most threatening of shells before they would even get close. "System, engage the largest shells. Their deflector shield should be enough to block the smaller ones." "Yes Michon Aurel, firing."

A few of those hovering plates on the hull snapped into new positions and fired a very high powered green beam towards the shells. The weapons were low powered Hau point defense weapons but still put out excessive power. As the shot hit the round, the metal started to turn green as well and within a second, had burst in to a small puff of greenish gray smoke. The weapons fired a total of seven shots, destroying the largest and most threatening incoming projectiles. Aurel was satisfied at the result but realized her imposing stance against the station was gone. She had just technically saved their lives.. She had to engage them in conversation now.

"System, scans reveal the one giving orders?"

"Yes Michon Aurel, shall I target with a projector?"

"No, prepare a transfer. I'll be in room four."

"Yes Michon Aurel."

Aurel walked through the corridors of the ship in to a large brightly lit room. It had no visible objects inside other than a six foot wide gray circle in the middle of the room. As the doors closed, Aurel walked up to a console and began changing settings in the room. The walls, as well as the ceiling and floor turned jet black, only to then appear as if the room was just a glass box in space. "System, transfer the target when ready." Since the Stations shields were down, there was no problem at all targeting Jason and pulling him from the room he was in. Any one standing in a room with him, they would see him glow a bright blue for seconds then just, disappear in a flash.

To the target, things were far different. A bright blue flash would give way to vision being stretch in all directions. The room wouldn't spin but just elongate towards the intended destination. what seemed like a solid continuous bolts of lightning zips around and the temperature changes from moderate heat to a decent chill would change off very often, giving the body no real chance to get used to it. lights seem to stretch infinity in all directions, then the pull takes place.

---

The Tar'ee

---

It would feel as if one was jerked from stationary to one hundred miles an hour within a second. Gravity would feel off as hands and feet became almost unbearably heavy. Reality around the target spins wildly... but as quickly as it started, it would end. A bright white flash signaled the end of the event.

All one would see in the room is the gray flat circle at ones feet. everything else was just wide open expanse. The Tar'ee could be seen straight ahead and the Station behind. Aurel slowly moved towards the target in the center of the room. She had a very poised and stately walk. Her long black hair was pulled in to a high pony tail and her outfit was far more revealing than any human military personnel would wear. Nothing extreme or erotic, just far more than anyone would be used to.

Her form was human in all ways except for the few differences, the fewer fingers being the most obvious. When she finally got to the center, she would seem imposing in her own right, standing nine feet. Her form was very feminine but had a strong build. All she did was stand there, staring down at the new arrival.

Even if the target were to say anything, she still made the same comment, "Welcome to my ship, the Tar'ee. My name to you is Michon Aurel. Though I am not bothered by simply 'Aurel'."

"I am here to discuss our current situation." She pointed at the station ahead and within seconds, the Tar'ee opened up a full broadside with green beams tearing in to hull plating, blueish red beams hitting with intense force and causing massive explosions, and what looks like solid green projectiles firing from the ships barrels that upon hitting the hull, seemed to bounce inside the plating and exploding deep within the station. The barrage lasted a few minutes before the burning station broke into pieces, pieces that were floating slowly apart.

"If you are dishonest, or betray my trust.. this will be a reality." And with the blink of an eye, the station was visible again.. perfectly fine.

"Now please, Who are you?"

UreReode leapt from the saddleback of his flying beast. The party had to land for the night as a storm gathered in the air. The clouds had grown and darkened, they became thick. They tossed and turned with a restlessness and unease that he had never before seen.
The Great Cycle knew that the Humans disturbed the world, and it cried in retaliation. Not that Dacyira had any hope of fighting back against these beasts from above, relying only on itself.
He had left the Great Cavern with haste, darting between the shadows of something above. Something that flew higher than the boldest bird and roared with the force of a thousand blasts of thunder. Of course, it was beyond natural, and the sorcerous Humans took the opportunity to curse his people further. They evoked blood to seep into the air; his people choked and burned, their eyes failing and their breaths becoming heavy under the weight of the foul magic... But there was nothing UreReode could do. Nothing at all. He rode away from the horror like some sort of coward and he cursed himself for it. From that night onward, he felt himself slip further and further from his cause. Balance became less important. Revenge became the priority.

But this night he had little time to consider his thoughts of perverse justice. The sky growled and roared, rain fell in the wake of haywire strikes of lightning that pummelled the land and forest. UreReode had called for his assembled retinue to construct a temporary shelter from splintered wood and leaves; material that had fallen to the undergrowth under the force of the storm. They huddled for the next hour, exchanging few words and fewer glances. The only thing that broke the paradoxical silence that the storm had conjured was the occasional haunting ancestral song. UreReode tried to lead the melodies, but each time he made an attempt the song would fade into the night. In some ways, just like the Dacyirii.
But the rain was more persistent then they were. Their spirits dampened and broken. The five Dacyirii warriors who had lost everything could not find it within themselves to sing glory of times past.

This storm... was not of Dacyira. The world never experienced throes of this calibre. It was as if the disturbance came from above the thick blanket of grey and black. As if things stirred above, high into the great blue sky where the world was pure and clear. It was as if the domain of the Humans experienced unrest and strife, struggle and pain just like the Dacyirii did. UreReode stood as if to bring himself closer to the sky so that he would better perceive the anomalies, slanting his saurian eyes to a focused squint. He tried to make out strange shapes casting dark shadows above the cloud cover; they moved in ways that nothing natural should.

"What in the name of the Cycle..." he exclaimed.

There was a thunderous explosion, and the clouds scattered immediately under the force. They left behind trails of burning gas that illuminated the sky in incredible, ethereal ways. If it was not a sign of the Humans, then it would have been beautiful. The four other Dacyirii jumped to their feet, instinctively unsheathing their assorted weapons as they went.

"What is happening!" one warrior screamed as the entire group's flying mounts took to the skies and scattered with as much ease as the clouds.

"What the fuck! No!" Another cried at the loss of their tamed creatures, his voice struggling to pierce the sudden cacophony.

"No! No no no no!" UreReode screamed, falling to his knees with reckless abandon. The others turned to see what he saw, and each reacted in kind. They saw not just one tear in the clouds, but hundreds, looming across the entire sky. Each tear burned with brilliant light that seemed to rival the suns themselves. But from each gaping maw that consumed the sky in fire descended a streak of flame, proceeded only by more trails of blazing inferno. A firestorm fell from the heavens.

"YOU CANNOT BRING DOWN THE SKY! WHY WOULD YOU RUIN THE WORLD WITH A RAIN OF FIRE?" UreReode called once more. He knew it was futile, but he tried anyway. Humans were not creatures of reason.
How are they allowed to do this? was the question he posed to his retinue as a trail of fire hurtled towards them, striking the forest with the force of a meteor and engulfing the Dacyirii in hellfire.

(A collaboration between me and NewSun)

Research Base Jìnzhan, Main Building
A trio of men in white lab coats frantically brisked through the dimly lite corridors, deep in the bowls of the Central Structure, as the very walls themselves trembled, the facility now under attack from artillery strikes, the lights flickering on and off from the repeating tremors. "Goddamnit all!" The lead man exclaimed in great frustration, his face red from rage. "Just one more day...we could've relocated it just in a day and this happens!" The trio proceeded to a secuirty check point with a pair of Marines awaiting them. They quickly displayed their Identification cards and entered without delay.

Before them was a wall of glass, with various consoles and other machinery surrounding it, dozens of scientists going about in a panic as they gather what they can, Data, personal items, etc.

The angered scientist walked forward to a sliding door in the center of the Glass Wall, placing his hand on a scanning device. "Welcome Dr. Hoffman." The machine said as the doors opened.

"Hoffman! Is this wise? Moving the artifact like may be dangerous." One of them said, a much younger man.
"We run a risk of getting caught in the crossfire, or worse, contamination."

Hoffman remained silent in the brief trip as they entered the end of the hall, standing before them was a large machine, specifically a suspension generator. Within the center, floating, was a oddly shaped metallic object. It was found a few years ago by miners, and it was soon discovered to be nearly ten thousand years old. It was quite the disocvery, that a far older civilization had settled on Dacyira, the wonders this planet held were now tenfold.

"We must move the artifact at all costs. I can't afford to wait. He approached the Generator, pressing down a few keys as a small glas container rose from the bottom of the artifact, and a top over it. Hoffman quickly grabbed the container. "Let's get the hell out. I have a car and a few men waiting in the garage.

---

Many minutes pass as a Canton Milita Scout Car comes barging out from the back of the central building, pushing past through the carnage and chaos of the battle, dodging artillery strikes, missles from AVA Gunships and most shockingly of all, falling pieces of starship debris. Before long the car ade out of the Facility's perimeter and the battle itself, ad escaped deep into the forests.

---

The world blurred and stretched, twisted and faded. A small breeze roused UreReode from his unconsciousness. A myriad of small flames continued to burn the area around him, but it was not what he remembered. When the sky had fallen upon him there was jungle on all sides, lush and vibrant, even when obscured by the storm...
...But now? Ash. Ash and broken land and fire and dust. The fires obliterated everything save for him. There was so little. The land was desolate and barren; this was not the Dacyira that he had known. For a moment he wandered what his companions would make of such a travesty. The thought struck him. What about his companions? His comrades? The ones he brought along with him in an attempt to find resolution in this conflict? He threw himself upwards, launching off a layer of singed ash from his body and spinning himself in a full circle. He looked to find the Dacyirii that he had travelled with.

But there was nothing. Nothing but a collection of four skeletons, all once belonging to his companions. Once living, breathing creatures of the world; now just charred bone. Nothing but lifeless mineral.

Dead.

Gone.

Broken.

Murdered.

Killed without a second of remorse. They did this. They knew no boundaries. Nothing existed to stop these animals from their mindless slaughter. These monsters... They had laid waste to everything in their path. They needed something to oppose them; unity was not an option. The only thing that would stop these humans would be terror. A fear so intense and vivid that they would destroy themselves. Dacyira needed a symbol through which these aliens could be repelled, and UreReode was more than willing to offer himself as an avatar of resistance.
He roared to the ashen sky a war cry which he never thought he would hear himself cry. Hatred was in his voice. It was no longer about just staying alive; he wanted to see these Humans bleed. The women and the children would die first, he would make their warriors watch as he did to them what they did to him.
Nothing would survive his onslaught.

This reign of terror had gone on long enough. In the distance, a low rumble signalled the approach of a group of Humans... UreReode retreated into the burned foliage, concealing himself partially, hoping that the skeletons of his comrades would act as a distraction.

Hoffman's group had traveled hours on end, luckily for them, they had stocked up on fuel, but were soon running out. Worse, they were lost in this hellish, ash-filled landscape, no life in sight. Probably the doing of the falling starship debris.

They continued to move on aimlessly in what seems to be a hopelss situation. The driver then took notice of large foot prints in the ash. "A survivor." He said.
"A Daciyrii..." Hoffman said grimly. "I'm not comfortable with the idea for spoting for one of those savages."

"Doctor, we might as well. No good giving them more reasons to hate our guts. A small gesture of goodwill wouldn't hurt."

".....Fine. driver, follw the tracks." The car diverted it's course as it followed the footprints, the detour did not last too long as the car stopped as the tracks ended, leading to a pile of Daciyrii bones. Two militamen stepped out of the car first, followed by the three scientists as they approached the bone pile.

In his years of fighting these savage creatures, UreReode had learned a few words of their alien tongue. Their strange, guttural calls and remarks. They made no sense to him, but still their meanings were easy to decipher with enough thought. He had no means to understand their strange conversations from his distant observation, but the knowledge could be used for intmidation. He watched still with intent as they crawled closer and closer in their strange metal creature. He scooped a clawful of ash from the charred ground, and smothered it across his exposed scales, staining them a ghostly white. Unlike anything seen in the Dacyirii naturally; it would have been a terrifying sight to see: a Daciyrii ghost striking from the shadows.
UreReode eyed up the first two humans who stepped from the metal creature. They were well armed but unawares. But they approached the remains of his group, likely with intent to desecrate. It was all that these creatures were capable of doing, anyway.

"You!" He screamed in the Human Tongue as he lashed from the shrubbery faster than the eye could follow "Monsters!".
He had re-armed himself with his sword before he had retreated into the bushes. He now utilised it with deadly efficiency. He darted forwards and dragged it through the flesh of the first warrior before he even had a chance to react. A trail of ash exploded from his body as he moved, releasing a cloud of ethereal white with every action.
He didn't stop to even acknowledge the painful death of the first warrior before leaping on to the second, bringing his full weight to bear on the compartively fragile body of his adversary. Several bones snapped and shattered under the force as they tumbled to the ground, the action concluding with UreReode forcing his clawed hand through the skull of the fallen Human with a sickening crunch and an even more sickening splatter of blood.

He raised himself. The threats had been neutralised. He could now have his way with the unarmed humans with impunity. He stood to his full height, many feet taller than the quivering men, roaring at them with such ferocity that the very ground shook and shuddered. His body was still coated in a thick, ghostly white, though now accented by flecks of deep crimson from his kills. "You... Monsters!"

The group panicked as their guards were easily dispatched by the furious beast. Hoffman fleeing for the car, leaving behind the other two who remained stunned to what they witnessed. Their fear kept them planted to the very ground they stood as they lived their last moments in sheer terror. "Goodwill...." one of them thought, the one who suggected they help these beasts, an ironic end it seemed.

Without missing a beat, UreReode lowered himself to all fours, and broke into a sprint. Totally bypassing the frozen scientists for a moment, and wheeling himself around to intercept the flight of the coward. His body curved and swirved, moving inbetween him and the car, before once again rising to his full height.

"You. No chance. No run. You feel what Dacyirii feel," he spat, struggling with Human words, but making every last one count.
"You will go. You will tell leaders. You will tell all Human. You will tell all Human that their days... numbered. The world is not Human ally. The Dacyirii rise."

He grabbed Hoffman by the neck, wrapping his claws around his flesh and raising him into the air with such ease it was as if the man were made of silk. He brought him close to his toothed snout, and roared once more with incredble force before flinging Hoffman backwards and into the body of the car. It caused a mighty crash, and would have certainly hurt, but it was not a fatal strike. That one would serve as his communication to the Humans. He stepped over Hoffman's temporarily senseless body and reached into the storage of the car, pulling free a peculiar metallic object within a transparent case. UreReode felt a strange connection to the object, and so resolved to make it his own. He dropped the container to the ground as he approached the remaining scientists.

Those poor men... Hoffman would not have been able to drive fast enough to outrun the screams of his collegues.
Hoffman regained his senses and quickly hopped over to the front seat, grabbing the keys and turning the ignition. He stepped as hard as he could on the pedal and and just drove. Far from that monster. However, he failed to notice the theft of the artifact, and drove away unaware of it's absence.

---

UreReode had finished with the scinetists several minutes after the dissapearance of Hoffman, leaving their corpses mangled and disfigured. The beasts were all the same. They deserved no better. He had also taken a few moments to flay their skin from the bones, sever their arms and legs from their bodies and fashion for himself a set of macabre apparel. Teeth threaded through string around his neck; skulls dangling loosely from his waist, blood dragged in cruse patterns over his whitened scales. He had made himself into a living effigy of terror. A reminder that the Humans were animals and nothing more. Animals to be hunted.

His attention shifted. He shot his head to the side and remembered the strange metallic object he had taken from the transport before Hoffman escaped. The more he gazed into it, the more the strange glowing colours seemed to call to him. Not just physically, but they played a siren song to his very soul. He approached slowly, taking hold of the container the moment he was in range. Without any hesitation, he threw the container to the ground, shattering it into hundreds of tiny shards of glass; leaving the object unharmed. He reached down to touch it, despite his efforts to stop himself from doing so... and...

The object's glow grew more intense as his fingers drew closer and closer, until two green beams of light shot out from the object and into UreReode's eyes, leaving him paralyzed like a statue for who knows how long, it may have been hours, or minutes, he could no longer tell as his forced gaze into the object continued on still it suddenly came to an end as the beams evaporated. "Binding Complete" A disembodied voice spoke."Servitor of the Masters, activated."

"I. Am. Your Vessel," UreReode seemed to reply to no apaprent presence. "Mother..."

His arms, though covered in ashen white, seemed to glow with an energy that was more than he. A dusty light seemed to glow under his scales. He was more than he once was. And yet, he did not know why. Despite everything, he felt a pull. He felt a need to travel on; to where mystery overcame all. A place where no Dacyirii had ever been... Pandcyira. He would need to travel to Ishkaar, but he had no control over his choice. He set off on a long journey by foot, for a reason he did not understand, to a place he did not know, because of an object he did not trust.

...But any Humans he found along the way would be folly. They still needed to pay for everything they had done. The head of the serpent would be severed, or he would die in his attempt.

@Druby

---

As Gabriel lashed out, so too did Di, swinging his knife through the air without aiming. Diraphus didn't see if it hit or not, and adrenaline flooded his bodies. Raphus kept their weapons trained on the alien as Di replaced his knife with a gun. Moving as one, he formed a half-circle around Gabriel, certain pitches of his mindsounds barely reaching the human range of hearing.

"D-drop your weapons?" Diraphus' reply was perfect mimicry, apparently coming from Raph on Gabriel's left, though his mouth barely moved.

The alien's mouth-noises meant nothing to the Pack, and he couldn't make out any mindsounds. Could it be some kind of automaton, or a trained warbeast without any intelligence? The body plan was unlike anything the scout had ever heard of: two arms, two legs, a stubby neck and a weird head. It seemed fleshy enough to be living, but of course, Diraphus couldn't see much.

"D-drop your weapons?" The ever-shifting semicircle of Diraphus paused a moment as Raph repeated the alien's phrase. Then, the Pack started shifting around even faster than before, and all three heads were almost shouting at him as they circled and paced.

"D-drop your weapons?"

"D-drop your weapons?"

"D-drop your weapons?"

Amid the babbling chorus of mimicry, one member stopped a moment to fiddle with their radio, pressing a circular protrusion against their head tympanum. The packmember's speech sounded something like gobbling and a canid's whine as it began to relay information to the pilot. The other two members dared to step closer to the alien, still mimicking his earlier demand, jabbing toward him with their guns as they did so, trying to back him into a tree.

Hawkins fiddled with his binoculars, idly changing the vision mode to infrared, then to night vision, then back to normal, as Reeves and Black stared out at the battlefield with their own pair that they grabbed from the jeep. The two seemed to be making bets on certain parts of the fight. such as which side would win in a particular skirmish, and hissing and 'ahh'ing as the soldiers below died particularly gruesome deaths or made massive turnarounds and comebacks. Personal favorites came and went as they were slaughtered, and Reeves gave a particularly long string of curses as one of the soldiers he'd bet on played hero and dived on top of a grenade. It seemed wrong for them to be doing something like this, belittling the death of so many men, but Hawkins kept his mouth shut on the matter. As long as it didn't impede combat effectiveness, Hawkins didn't really quite care what his men did in their free time. He began to drift off somewhat as he sat there, in the shade of a tree.

Hawkins was pulled from his trance as he heard Private Bryan cry out. "Oh, what the fuck! It's raining fucking fire!" Hawkins glanced over at Hawkins, eyebrow quirked in concern, but as he followed Bryan's finger, pointed up at the sky, Hawkins soon came to understand why it was that Bryan was so excited. Angry red streaks of fire and flame fell from the sky, intent on crashing into the battlefield below, leaving even more chaos in its wake. All around him, Hawkins could hear the others murmur and shout out their own exclamations of surprise.

He stared up at the sky in awe for a few moments before he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, down in the battlefield below. He snapped up his binoculars and zoomed in for a closer look. It was a scout car, seemingly intent on makings its way off the battlefield. Hawkins snapped his fingers towards Reeves, then pointed at the car. "Corporal, eyes off the light show. Look down there. Looks like we've got a couple of non-combatants trying to make it out."

Reeves followed Hawkins' finger, looking through the eyes of his binoculars. "What makes you so sure they're non-combatants?" Private Cross asked from behind them, still staring up at the falling debris.

"I'm pretty sure soldiers don't wear lab coats all that often." Hawkins followed the car with his eyes, watching them go. There was something about that car. "Everyone, pack your shit. We're following that car."

"What?" Black asked. "Why? It's probably just a group of deserters, or some VIPs trying to get the hell out. It's none of our business, right? We're just here to see the big commotion. Hell, there's no guarantee those guys are making it out in one piece anyways."

Hawkins stared out at the car as it swerved to avoid an artillery strike. "Call it a gut feeling. Those men have something important. Besides, we all know how this fight's going to end anyways. Now come on, grab your shit. We're going." Black stared back at Hawkins with a quizzical look, likely wondering just what the hell was going through the man's mind, but she soon gave in, shaking her head and sighing, making her way to the jeep they had hidden a little ways back, following the others.

Reeves sighed. "Well, if you're sure about this, sir."

---

The jeep rumbled and shook as they drove across rocks and roots, Reeves who was manning the machinegun on top cursing as they hit a particularly bad bump. They'd been driving for a while now, a few hours at least, following the car. It'd run off into a forest, where it was simple enough to follow the trail it had left behind. Hawkins had been keeping an eye out on their surroundings. Wouldn't want to be ambushed by the natives or anything.

A deep and guttural cry roared out from the woods ahead, and Black, the driver, slammed on the brakes. Everyone was silent for a moment as they strained their ears to pick up any other sounds, and everything was silent until they began to hear the human screams. "Everyone dismount... We're investigating... Spread out and stay hidden..."

"I dunno... That sounded pretty bad..." Bryan gave back.

"Quit your whining, Bryan. Come on, we've got mysteries to solve." Reeves snarked back. Everyone dismounted from the jeep and began to move forwards, making sure to keep behind bushes and trees. The going was a little on the slow side as they tried not to make too much sound, but they didn't have to go too far to see what had been going on. It was a small clearing of sorts, and in the center were six figures. Two of them, Canton soldiers, were limp on the floor, likely dead, and one was a native of truly massive proportions, covered in white ash and carrying a native-made blade. The last three figures were scientists, men in lab coats, and one was in the native's hands. The one the native held was tossed into the car, and slammed into its body as the native hissed out in halting English. The native reached into the vehicle, even as the one scientist scrabbled into the car and began to drive away, and pulled out a container of some sort, leaving it on the floor as he turned his attention to the last two men. What happened next was... revolting. Hawkins fought the urge to throw up, and he heard Black gag quietly behind him, even as Reeves put his hand over her mouth to silence her. Still, they stood there and watched, in part unwilling to bring the native's attention to them, and another part in shock at the scene before them.

The native made trophies from their bodies, seemingly to look bored as he finished. It turned its attention to the object it stole from the car earlier, smashing the container open and retrieving the thing. To Hawkins' surprise, the object began to glow, and the native seemed to fall into a trance. Then the metal object spoke. Then the native began to glow too. As the light faded, the native walked off into the forest, dissapearing from sight. They waited for several more moments before they pushed through into the clearing, cautiously investigating the remains while Reeves peered off into the direction the native had run off towards. There was no question as to whether or not they were dead.

"What... Holy fucking shit... What the fuck was that about!?" Bryan cried out, even as he cringed away from one of the corpses, and Black vomited into one of the bushes, as Cross seemed to just stare at the bodies, his facial features hidden behind his helmet.

"I... I don't know..." Hawkins replied. "Reeves... You got any tracks there?"

"No luck, sir." Reeves said, glancing back. "This guy probably knows these woods like the back of his hand... We'd just get lost following him."

"Alright..." Hawkins said, nodding back. "Come on, everyone back to the jeep... We're going after the survivor... I want some answers as to what just happened, and he probably knows best."

"He better fucking know... Fuck that was messed up..." Bryan mumbled under his breath.

For a good hour Hoffman drove, he didn't know where he even was, but for all that happened, he couldn't give a damn, he jut wanted to run far from that monster. His situation would soon become much worse then it is, as the car slowed down as it soon came to a halt as the gas tank became empty. "No..no..no..no...." He mumbled to himself. "Shit..." He had no choice but to continue his aimless trek on foot, and stepped out of the car, he checked the back to gather any things necessary for the journey, and most importantly, the artifact, however...."Goddamnit!" He shouted out in great frustration and anger. "It's gone! Where the hell is it?!?!?!" He rumbled through the back of the car for that one chance if it was hidden under the seats. He came to the terrible conclusion that it may have fell right after he escaped.

"Just. My. Fucking. Luck." He said grimly. "I hate this planet o much right now.." It looked to be the wort day in his life pretty much, perhaps his last. As far as he knew, he was pretty much lost, no Colonial Settlement for miles. "I give up.." Hoffman just fell on hi back as he stared out into the early morning sun. As soon as he lost hope, Hoffman heard the rumbling sound of a car heading his direction. "Already the madness has seeped it's way into my mind..it can't possibly be.." He took the chance and looked to the direction of the noise, and to his amazement, a car was quickly approaching him. "Well I'll be damned.."

DACYRIA HIGH ORBIT

---

Jason waited for a response to his message; the atmosphere in the room was filled with trepidation and though the weapons officer seemed relived the others in the station were clearly on the verge of breaking down. Jason reflected on the fact that not one of them was a soldier, scientists and civilians, him included. They had been told this job would be perilous, this planet lethal, for those who had no choice but to go the station seemed safe, high above the danger. How wrong they all were, in an hour it had become the very definition of danger, and now all their lives sat on a precipice. The silence had been brutal this time, and the alarm that sounded was almost relief had it not been for what it symbolized. A single voice shouted out, “Unknown ships are firing! We have multiple shots coming off the ships!”

Jason didn’t bother looking for its speaker, he simply shouted back, beginning to give into the same panic as the rest of them, “They at us? Yes or no!”

The voice responded, “No sir! We have confirmed hits on large debris that escaped our sensors; the rad belt from that blast blinded us more than we thought. That would have shredded us! Remaining debris contacts are small enough the debris shield to handle them… Did they save us sir?”

Jason sat back and chuckled, the tension in the room seemed to fade away immediately, “Sure as hell looks like it, well folks it seems we are not going to die, I don’t mind that turn of events.” Jason relaxed into his chair for the first time in an hour and conversation of a less anxious nature began to fill the room, and in that moment he was gone.

The feeling could be called indescribable; however the only truly informative way of putting it was nauseating. Jason felt like reality was coming apart around him, every detail obvious and yet distant, the universe close enough to touch but too far to try. Nothing made sense, and yet in a second Jason was on solid ground, dazed beyond words. A towering feminine figure looked down on him but the world was still rotating and moving so the figure seemed little more than a blur, for a moment Jason heard her words, a name, Michon Aurel. Jason’s mind began to come to sense with the situation; however his stomach was not so kind. Just after the towering presence made her intent with the stunning realistic hologram depicting his station exploding Jason managed a nod. However he then keeled onto his knees and vomited all over the floor. The mess was fairly substantial and Jason couldn’t help but think that this was already a disastrous first contact. He struggled to his knees and responded weakly,” I... I understand.” There was the distinct reality Jason had just doomed his station, however he managed to secure himself against a wall and continue, “Sorry for that… I assume that was point to point teleportation then, interesting technology there but I can’t say it was a joy.” Jason managed to finally get back onto his feet and off the wall, he pulled a small tissue paper out of his uniform pocket and wiped his mouth. Eventually he went on, “As for who I am, my name is Jason Corsan, the acting commander of the high orbit logistics station which you happen to be aiming your guns at. Thanks for the save by the way, that radiation belt from those idiots blinded out sensors.”

Jason knew it the second he said it, those idiots, the being before him would immediately pick up on that slip, two words was enough to convey prior knowledge. No way to hide the truth anymore Jason supposed, “Yes… I assume you want to know about that battle? I cannot say I am the best person to explain the politics but the truth is we do know who they were, and to an extent why they were fighting. The battle you witnessed was between two of the major human factions that have been fighting it out as of late. Really a civil war more like, but I suppose after four wars they begin to just call each other separate factions.” Jason stepped a bit closer to the strange figure observing him, “So, it’s obvious enough you have business here Michon Aurel. Colonization is my bet considering the size of the ships you have, if you wouldn’t mind not destroying my station a moment longer, and perhaps letting them know I am not dead, that would be good.” Jason was still in a bit of a daze, the words came off almost sarcastic and he struggled to hold onto the normal caution he so often exercised.