Corporal Lance

Humanity's Last Army

Griks

Cannon fodder for the Bulwark, these are pale, dull creatures of unknown origin to be used as meat shields. However, do not underestimate them, as they rush out into battle with a disturbing ferocity, gladly laying down their lives for the goals of the Bulwark, and have the physical strength of a fully grown ape. For some reason, if one gets close enough to a Grik, they can sometimes smell the faint aroma of banana bread.

@Roughdragon1

"It was terrible... the blood and gore was everywhere, pooled inches deep on the choked ground... But the smell... hauntingly aromatic... I can't go back in the bakery, I can't! I fucking can't! *sobs*"

Humanity's Last Army

<Snipped quote by ihinka>

Oh god.

What if they're the field rations?

@Dervish

In Galactic Union Pluto, rations eat you!

Humanity's Last Army

Ok, added a weapons/gear section to the OOC.

@Roughdragon1

Kalshnikov! Fucking. Called it. Come to daddy my little babushka...

Humanity's Last Army

I hope it was alright that I made a throwaway comment about Griks smelling unpleasant. I dunno, maybe they smell like a fresh summer breeze or something.

@Fisticuffs

Don't be crazy, Griks smell like freshly baked banana bread. I am now accepting this as canon and no one can change my mind.

The Ragnarov Fleet - Explore, Expand, Exploit, Exterminate

Wrote up a general medical report on how Nick's biology functions and what the Fleet would know from studying him for a while. I figured it'd be good to know when engaging in experiments involving him.

CLASSIFIED ORANGE LEVEL

Preface

This medical record will cover experiences, medical histories, and scientific test data of Nicholas Zelthis, hereby known as "Subject N". This documentation is labelled SENSITIVE//SCYINT and is not subject to release outside of Ragnarov Fleet Orange Clearance personnel. The reproduction of this documentation without Council approval by majority vote is considered amoral and high treason punishable by loss of rank, life imprisonment, and up to and including the death penalty.

Prognosis

Subject N is of unknown highly mutagenic origin, referring to himself (itself?) as an "Endovan", a yet undocumented species in the surrounding quadrants. Subject N is humanoid in appearance and of deceptive weight averaging between 125 and 175lbs at any given time. The subject maintains a vastly increased metabolic rate in comparison to other similarly-sized species and enhanced cellular regeneration. It is observed that the subject is able to change its appearance and anatomy at will within the constraints of an anatomical structure capable of supporting its internal systems, most notably the nervous system. Coupled with this the subject has been observed to incorporate inborn talents from other creatures around it in a limited scope after physical contact with said creature, although it is poorly understood how this method works. Subject N is an invaluable test subject for weapons and hazards accreditation as Subject N's enhanced cellular regenerative abilities allow it to survive all bodily harm thus far with no injuries lasting longer than 5 weeks.

Physiology

On the surface Subject N appears to be a carbon-based humanoid commonly observed to exist in the Milky Way galaxy, however this is not always the case as the subject can alter its appearance to mimic other races. This has been confirmed as mimicry and not full metamorphosis as evidenced by the presence of the original internal organs, including an extra one that's apparent purpose is dedicated to generating stem cells. The outer dermis and blood cells of the subject will incorporate altered DNA sequences of the organism it mimics, theorized to be a form of genetic camouflage. When mimicking other organisms Subject N appears to experience pain for the duration, and as observed through testing this is the result of mass cell death. The dead cells are quickly cannibalized by the living ones to be re-used as an energy source and nutrients for the newly developing cells.

Subject N's diet is omnivorous with high concentration on red meat, although it is capable of receiving nutrition from a variety of sources to include sources that are toxic to other species. It is theorized from the subject's behavior and dietary preferences that the "Endovan" species either has a dietary requirement for meat by design, has evolved to sate its large requirement of protein, or has evolved from a predatory animal. The predatory theory has small scientific basis as the subject's musculature is coiled as opposed to taught like most other predators, though this may be to aid in its abilities of mimicry.

Subject displays increased pain tolerance beyond the standard limitations of living things. It is hypothesized that the subject's hyperactive nervous system overwhelms its own pain synapses resulting in reduced effect of the pain signal. It is also hypothesized that a yet unidentified genetic marker in cellular reconstruction reduces the pain response. Dr. Ceraun theorizes that the tolerance to pain is evidence of a mental disorder with cited references.

Subject N's most valuable scientific asset is its hyperactive immune system. Unlike most species the blood of Subject N contains no platelets or white blood cells, and upon intrusion by a foreign entity the red blood cells are capable of performing the functions of the platelet or white blood cell. The subject's tissue is capable of responding to threats as well and Subject N's body will react in the most efficient manner in which to expunge a threat to its internal health and adapting to the manner of the threat. Most commonly the surrounding cells of the foreign agent will coat the threat and "die", hardening into a protective cytoplasmic coat to be ejected by the body. While inefficient for most species Subject N's increased metabolic rate, the properties of its blood cells, and its stem cell organ make this the preferred method of warding off biological threats.

This method of immuno-response is also highly effective to environmental and manufactured threats using similar methods of containment and removal of the irritant. It should be noted that because of this immuno-response the subject's body will reject all forms of manmade implants and eventually absorb the biological ones into its own system, which is theorized to be a defense mechanism to infections and parasites respectively. It should be noted that Subject N is highly resistant to chemicals and drugs of any kind and is deathly allergic to nanites to the extent of invoking necrosis in the affected area of the body the nanites inhabit.

Case File - Trial 86-b

This experiment is being conducted in order to test the compatibility of Subject N's cellular adaptability within another organism. Hypothesis: If Subject N's blood were transplanted into another living organism it then would adapt to the host and act as a universal donor, possibly even cross-species.

[11:49:36] Subject N is staged in the infirmary accompanied with assigned physician [REDACTED]. Subject N's demeanor is impatient and flippant, no abnormalities.
[11:52:21] Test Subject 41-3A is introduced to the infirmary. Subject N makes several vague threats disguised as humor. Testing begins.
[11:53:19] Subject N's blood is drawn with 17-gauge needle. No abnormalities. Subject N seems docile.
[11:53:35] Test Subject 41-3A is fitted with a transfusion IV. No abnormalities.
[11:55:56] Blood from Subject N begins filtering through IV to Test Subject 41-3A. No abnormalities.
[12:06:22] Blood transfusion from Subject N to Test Subject 41-3A is completed, both subjects held for observation. Subject N asks for "cookies and orange juice", request denied.
[12:13:14] Test Subject 41-3A's temperature begins rising beyond acceptable levels. Observation begins.
[12:15:54] Test Subject 41-3A's complexion is clammy and his skin his hot to the touch. Loss of cognitive function and awareness is present. Test Subject 41-3A is stated as complaining about muscle ache and fatigue.
[12:22:49] Test Subject 41-3A has first seizure, physician attends to stabilize. Subject N is observed as having a humorous demeanor, chuckling and making inappropriate remarks. Test Subject 41-3A is injected with penicillin and topiramate.
[12:24:12] Seizure stops.
[12:29:27] Second seizure begins. Physician increases dose of topiramate.
[12:30:48] Test Subject 41-3A expires. Subject N is noted to be in uproarious laughter and stating "I told you so".

Autopsy Report: Veins are inflamed and platelet levels are incredibly high. Blood has signs of pre-coagulation before death and signs of stage 2 septic shock. Cause of death is subarachnoid hemorrhage coupled with infection of the brain.

Conclusion: Subject N's blood is most likely toxic to other organisms, further experimentation is recommended.

Humanity's Last Army

Text waaaaaaaaaaaaaall. Got muh post up, @Fisticuffs is loosely hinted at continuing the trend of "tag-out".

Humanity's Last Army

Some people would like to think that the Army was all guts and glory, daring and medals and parades, where everyone was an action hero valiantly battling the next big threat to Freedom or Livelihood or something noble like that. Private Hayes knew better than that, but not until he stepped foot on Pluto. Just like the masses he had big dreams and high hopes of performing his duty as a proud human of the human race, unafraid of the Bulwark menace, ready to lay down his life to stamp out the embers of an alien threat. No one was pretending on the frontlines. It wasn't an action movie. Men struggled, gave it their all, and died without further mention in the most painful ways imaginable or in the blink of an eye. Yet he hadn't seen his first battle yet the cues had been becoming more forthright over the course of his month in boot camp.

Soldiers would break under the pressure to perform and the screaming and the chaos that left no hope. They were all made to be broken down into sniveling wretches and built back up into fighting machines that followed orders without thought. The process was dehumanizing, desensitizing, and developing a group of weak people into something that could fight a war. But at the end of it all they were soldiers. Soldiers, professional war fighters and killers for country. If only anyone knew what the hell they were doing. Darius could feel it in the air. It had a sort of energy to it. Panicky fear. Urgency. None of it was calm and resolute save for a few men and women with higher ranks, the people that had done this time and time again well enough to live for another go-round. Everyone else was terrified and anxious for good reason... but they weren't soldiers. Not yet anyway, just like Drill Instructor Captain Faraday had gnashed in their pathetic faces. They were frightened, shivering messes holding bags of gear half would die before using and tools of warfare that a handful had ever touched a month before.

That was when Darius decided to become a soldier.

Even if he was just as lost as all the others he wasn't about to pack it in with his tail between his legs and give in to the hopelessness. Everyone needed someone to look to for an example, and performance is the best role model. That's why their own role models were alive and kicking still. To be a good soldier you need to be a good soldier. Just do as you're told and you get to take a rest when you're done. Easiest job in the world. The night before Darius had checked and double-checked his equipment, once more when inspection came with the sunrise. He could feel the depression in the air thick like steam as his platoon shoveled down rations no different from the past few weeks. Captain Faraday didn't even slay them like usual. But the hustle was still there, a frantic march to the death. Private Hayes didn't think when he filed in to grab his assigned rifle and ammunition. He paid the fuck attention to what the Cap'n had to say, filing it away for when his brain would turn back on. But it wouldn't be here. As the platoon filtered down the hallway at a hurried jog, shaking and rattling with all their gear, he wore his most attentive stony face as he prepared to do exactly. What. He. Was. Told.

The fresh air wasn't exactly a welcome sight even in its alien tranquility. Rusty silt swept across the barren and lifeless dustbowl, swirling in the wind like a choking cloud. Steel-toed boots clomped in a chaotic cacophony in tune to the Captain's instructions of where to be, what position to take, and what commands to follow for battle. As his platoon entered a loose formation he could feel his battle buddies shoulder-to-shoulder with himself trembling. Darius was stock still, mentally checked out. His eyes set forward Private Hayes's vision wandered in his periphery, wandering over frightened faces of pale and metal temporary structures of cast iron gleaming from the bright blue sun. Which wasn't blue. The sun was yellow, just like Earth. And then his brain turned back on.

As the sapphire meteor of death bore down on their position broadcasted with a high-pitch squeal Darius broke ranks, allowing his rifle to dangle by his neck by its strap as he swept his arms out.
"GET DOWN!!" he bellowed as he took the two men by his side to the cosmic dirt with him. The shockwave shook many off their feet, heaving the ground beneath the company as Darius's eardrums sang shrieking songs from the loud. His meaty arms tensed around his fellow man as his equilibrium rocked, and he forced himself and his comrades into the ground again as the second hit landed with a powerful thrum like the fire of a godless dragon. Darius couldn't hear the words but he felt the movement around him. Like a school of fish. He had to keep up with the rest.
"LET'S MOVE LET'S MOVE GO GO GOO!" shouted the broad man as he took sprung to his feet, pulling the smaller young man to his left halfway up before putting his hands back on his rifle and charging into the mob, kicking his eschewed helmet aside as his feet spun into motion.

The throng of soldiers were nervous and apprehensive, hemming and hawing and hesitating into their places as they took the firing line. Private Hayes, emulating a good soldier, pushed his way to the front to sandwich himself in between two other ranks. He threw himself shoulder-first into the trenches, slanting his body in a firing position over the mounds of loose clay while his heart pounded in his ears. Darius looped his sling around his arm just as he'd been showed and practiced time and time again, pulling the stock firmly to his shoulder as he peered down the iron sights.

It was the first time he'd seen the Bulwark outside of the vids, and even then he didn't get a good look. All he saw was a mob of sickly white being trailed by a dust storm as stray rounds plunked into the earth before the FOB. The man slapped the mag on his rifle, pulling it to make sure it was seated and wouldn't feed wrong. Treat every weapon as if it were loaded. Darius eased and fidgeted into a more optimum fire position. Do not point your weapon at anything you do not intend to kill. This time and this time alone Private Hayes didn't listen to Captain Faraday give her heartwarming warm and fuzzy. All he was waiting for were the words he needed to hear. It took an eternity where he let his guard down, wrapping his trigger finger to a comfortable position. Keep your finger straight and off the trigger until you are ready to fire. He could hear the sniffling over the trudging of bestial feet, the heavy shaky breathing below the clack of rifles and magazines. Darius flicked his thumb off "Safe". Keep your weapon on Safe until you are ready to-

FIRE!

The air erupted in a chorus of gunfire, choking the firing line with the pungent odor of burnt powder. Darius had anticipated the shot and jerked the trigger, wasting a round. Eager to correct his mistake he took another one before resetting his breath, aiming low and hitting the dirt. The man paused for a few seconds, taking his head off his stock before resetting his firing stance again. Down the barrel of his rifle he could make out the shapes of men. Not men, but demons. He squeezed off another round, this one coming closer but still hitting the dirt. His forth shot finally found his mark though it was incredibly hard to tell. Finding his rhythm the man took cycles of breaths, walking fire into the vicious targets. Breath in. Breath out. SNAP. Breath in. Breath out. SNAP. Breath in. Breath out. Ka-chink. ...Click click. The man took his head off his weapon once more to eye down his weapon and the shine of brass over the bolt. He smacked it hard and shook it yet it would not dislodge. Pausing for a moment with no functioning weapon, he exercised judgement.

"TAG OUT TAG OUT, WEAPON JAM! WEAPON JAM!" he cried over the din of combat, turning back to the back ranks and grasping on of the timid hangers-on to take his spot. Off the side he huddled down, ejected his magazine, and began to thump his bolt like a madman trying to move the brass and let him get back to work. That's all that mattered right now. Doing as you were told. No matter what.

Humanity's Last Army

2 weeks? Dayum. That's, like, shorter than a trip to range qual. You couldn't even learn to shoot a weapon in that time.

Humanity's Last Army

<Snipped quote by Roughdragon1>

Those are some tinyass mags, 5.7mm is smaller than a 9mm and one of the selling points of the Five-seven is 20 round mags standard and 30 extended, which is awesome for a handgun.

@Dervish

I think that's the point. Standard battle rattle is 6 mags of 25 rounds but we're only getting 15 and I'm assuming just the one so we need to back off the firing line to re-up. Can't be a lot of resources since the mining just started yesterday and I doubt we space taxi'd enough rounds to waste handing full mags to someone who's just gonna eat lead when the Bulwark get here. We're given just enough ammo to do our jobs, anything more is a waste of gear.

Quick question, how long is boot camp? I'm going with a month because of urgency but I'm basing it off of Marine doctrine because that's what I know best.

Humanity's Last Army

I'll probably be adding the types of weapons used by the Human military, but I can tell you that the standard issue rifle is semi-auto, fifteen rounds, and chambered 7.62mm FMJ.

@Roughdragon1

Also, keep in mind that a lot of technology has been lost, and Humanity is stuck in a sort of dark age, so the guns won't be as futuristic as you would think, unless we get access to alien technology.

@Roughdragon1

Ahh, good ol' Kalashnikov, you never let humanity down :P