First Contact

[neosonichdghg]

This is a story... about a lovely lady... who was bringing up three very lovely girls...

Okay, not really. I'm just a random kind of guy. This is the thread where I will be running a Starcraft RPG called "First Contact". Any of your guys from the Interest Check thread, this is what I've been talking about. Anyone who hasn't seen that thread, hop over there for a more thorough explanation of what's going on.

Here's the story:

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First Contact

The denizens of northern Gribaltar are some of the nastiest, toughened creatures in the known universe. For almost five decades, this unpleasantly warm planet has been the home of the decimated Kraken brood – a specialized part of the Zerg swarm designed for reconnaissance and deep strikes of Terran planets.

The denizens of southern Gribaltar are almost as nasty, nearly as toughened, and apparently even more dangerous – the Terrans. The human residents of the planet settled around the south pole of the planet long before the Zerg came and managed to drive the aliens back to the equator when they arrived. So far, the intermittent Zerg attacks on the colony have not warranted many Imperial resources, so the colonists go on with their lives and only worry about the xenos when they launch a raid on the humans. However, the situation has changed.

Two years ago, strange energy readings were picked up near the north pole of the planet. They were ignored a first, assumed to be some fluke of either device or planet. But they persisted. Apparently, the Zerg had somehow acquired a Protoss ship. No one new how it had happened, but a few of the sector authorities realized that it might be a bad thing.

A day ago, Terran ships appeared on the colony’s sensors and hailed them. As it turned out, the Imperials had decided to send a force to investigate. The battlecruiser escort was needed in another sector, but two Karen-pattern landing craft disgorged twenty-four dropships of troops. Said dropships are now docking in the decrepit bay of the colony.

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Note: THIS RPG HAS NOT BEGUN YET!!!!! I will start the story rolling with a post for my char and the removal of this message. Until then, check the Starcraft RPG – Interest Check thread for updates and to pitch your char to me before posting it here. I will accept almost anything (within reason) but until this thread is "activated" by my char's first story post, I want to see all chars on the Interest Check thread before they show up here. Once again, THIS RPG HAS NOT BEGUN YET. Thank you.

[neosonichdghg]

This is my char sheet. It is not, repeat NOT the post that will start the story. Neither are any OTHER char sheets that are posted after this one. The story will start with a story post, not a char sheet.

======================CTI File PF-061-52======================

Personnel File-James Fuller

General Information:

Gender: Male
Rank: Sergeant Second Class
Specialization: Mechanics
Current Assignment: None

Transcript-Arcturus U:

Engineering:A
Advanced Calculus:A
Astronomy:A
Political Science:B
Xeno Studies:B
Applied Physics:A

Combat Training:

C-14 Proficiency-Marksman
C-20 Proficiency
CEP Proficiency

Field Repairs: All C-model weapons, Perdition pattern flamethrower, all F-class aircraft, all Arclite model tanks, all Goliath model walkers, Vulture, Raven, and Falcon pattern hoverbikes, Bertha and McArthur pattern dropships, SCV suit, Marine powersuit, Firebat powersuit, Combat Engineer powersuit, Hostile Environment Suit

Weapon of Choice:

Modified C-14
Magazine system
Snub external barrel
Laser pointer
Internal barrel
Scope
Handgrip
Removed AMS
Stock
Fire Selection system

Psychological profile:

Passion for mechanical and electronic devices, affinity for modifying equipment. Perfectionist who views all problems as solvable. Dislikes illogical people. Not overly attracted to money. Tends to be unemotional. No close acquaintances at present. Deals with problems by taking them apart and rearranging them. Becomes confused when this is not possible.

Assignment History:

Caliban: 507.81.2 - 509.63.8 (see file CF-174-93)
Arc Brutalis: 509.68.4 - 509.82.5
Nova III: 510.37.9 - 517.96.5 (see file CF-947-65)
Detara: 518.17.3 - 518.73.8 (see file CF-036-12)
Currently unassigned

[Sitnam]

Name: Bill Palmer
Rank: Colonial Sheriff
Gender: Male

Transcript-Antiga Prime Law School:
Engineering: A
Advanced Calculus: C
Astronomy: C
Political Science: C
Xeno Studies: C
Applied Physics:B

Combat Training:
Shotgun Profiency
Submachine Gun Profiency
Handgun Profeincy
Nightstick Training
Vulture Driving Prociency

Is a expert at reparing Vulture hoverbikes, C-12 Model Shotuns, P-3 model handguns, and P-9 model Submachine Guns.

Equipment
C-12 Shotgun with laser pointer and extended magazine (http://world.guns.ru/shotgun/sh21-e.htm)
P-3 Handgun with underbarrel short-range laser pointer. (http://world.guns.ru/handguns/hg109-e.htm)
Light Combat Helmet for hostile situations, such as hostage situations by domestic terroists. (http://kenny2.globalnet.hr/www.rhalan.hr/UserDocsImages/BK3.jpg)
L-9 Light Body Armor, protects againt pistol rounds, buckshot, and medium velocity assault rifle rounds. (http://www.npo-sm.ru/vests/vest3l.jpg)

Bill carries 36 rounds for his shotgun, 4 magazines for his handgun, a small flashlight the size of a index finger, and a flashlight atatchment for his combat helmet. He also carries a light 18 ounce, 2 foot long Nightstick (http://www.tech-police.com/images/products/policial/PE0425.jpg). The nightsick is made of high density and high resistance thermoplastic, that has the durablity of metal but the light weight of wood. Note that since Bill is apart of the Colonial Law Enforcement Agency, he normally patrols on a vulture hoverbike.

Physcial Profile: Average height at 5'9. Average weight at 180 pounds. Short cutt black hair. Tan skin. Blue eyes. No real distunguishing facial features. During work hours he wears blue jeans with a black t-shirt and a black baseball hat, each saying Colonial Law Enforcement on them.

Mental Profile: Has a strong affinity for his home planet, Antiga Prime, which was overrun by the Zerg during the early days of the Kopurulu War. Has no allegience to any of the current Terran Goverments, be it Dominion, Umojan, Kel-Morian, or UED. He simply wants revenge on the zerg.

History Bill was born on the temperate planet of Antiga Prime, one of the border planets of the old Confederacy. Early on, he grew interested in a special branch of the police force called Colonial Law Enforcement, a complex organization operating on and protecting the colonial worlds of the Confederacy, and later the Dominion. He joined at age 18, and soon climbed up the ranks to become a Colonial Sheriff. He served on Antiga Prime for a few years, then he went to Timul IV due to the low rate of crime on Antiga.

When the Kopurulu War started with the incineration of Chau Saura, Bill stayed on Timul IV, disturbed by the incineration of that colony. He finnally left Timul IV when Antiga Prime was overrun by Zerg attracted to the Psi Emitter Arcturas Mensk set on the planet. He decided that these aliens needed a little payback for their genocide of two worlds. He took a number of fellow Law Enforcement Agents with him, and they hijacked a dropship from Timul IV's spaceport of Ector.

The officers, unknowing what they were up againt, took heavy casulties when they first encountered the Zerg. Unbeknowest to them, they were being shadowed by the Protoss. During a attack on a tiny Zerg Hatchery colony on one of Antiga Prime's ordbiting space stations, they were attacked by a small protoss raiding party that was after the same thing, destroying the Zerg on the space station. Only Bill survived. He was able to get to the control room of the station, and was able to turn on the Automatic Defence System, a series of weapon traps such as wall flamethrowers and floor machine guns that decimated the Protoss, whom retreated after the last Zerg on the station was dead.

Unluckily for Bill, all dropships, Wraiths, and escape pods on the station were destroyed during the battle. He stayed inside the station alone for nearly two months, studying the corpses of both the Zerg and Protoss, as well as the technology of the Protoss. He also monitered the developments of the Kopurulu War, and made note of the war between the Confederacy and Sons of Korhol. Finally, sometime after Raynor destroyed the Ion Cannon, a group of Dominion boarding troops rescued Bill. He imediently joined the Dominion army, and his expertise on Vulture hoverbikes earned him a nice job as a foward scout.

Bill has now been attached to Gribaltar with his old job as a Colonial Sheriff.

Note: Not to nit-pick, but there are no 'Imperials' in the Starcraft universe. There was the Confederacy, but they were destroyed in the first game, so I presume we're talking about the Dominion. But there is no Terran faction in the game calling themselves the Empire. Even the Terrans on don't call them selves the United Earth Empire, but instead the United Earth Directorate.

[neosonichdghg]

Right. I'm talking about a time frame after the first game - this is during Emperor Mengsk's reign. I don't think they ever named his faction past the Sons of Korhal, so I figured that they would be the Imperials (becuase he's an Emperor)

If they did name the new faction, please post the name and I'll try to fix it.

[Sitnam]

He called his new faction the Dominion, which basically contained most of the Confederate worlds but with Korhol as the capital, and not Tarsonis. Note that the Umojan Protectorate and Kel-Morian Combine were both apart of the Dominion as part of the hierarchal organization, but I presume both left the Dominion when the UED didn't attack either in the campaigns.

[neosonichdghg]

Ooooooooooh. Thanks very much. I thought the Terran Dominion was another faction (I don't know who I was thinking of). I'll get that right during the RPG. By the way, once everyone has posted their approval of the story we'll start. I realize I didn't say that earlier, but I think it's probably the best idea.

[Apollo]

Criminal Profile - #0019304
Name - Unknown
Alias - the Gentleman

General Information:

Gender: Male
Age: 46
Occupation: Bounty Hunter
Wanted for: Murder, treason, conspiracy to murder, GBH, Grand theft
physical apearance: measuring roughly 6 foot 2 inches, "the gentleman" has tanned skin with greying hair pulled into a ponytail. Numerous scars decorate his head. He has been witnessed wearing the traditional robes of Sirocco, and a brown beaten-up leather trenchcoat.

Skills:
C-10 Canister Rifle proficiency
C-29 Duel Charger Pistols profiency
Explosives deployment
Vulture-Class Hover Bike driving profiency
Wraith Fighter Piloteering profiency
Negotiation
Cloaking

Equipment:
1 C-10 Canister Rifle
2 C-29 Duel Charger Pistols
250 rounds of U-238 Shells
1 Apollo reactor pack
1 pair of Infra-red vision goggles
1 Psi-blade

Psychological profile:

Despite his notoriety, little is actually known of "the Gentleman" so it is difficult to give any psychological insight at all. Rumoured to have been born into the barbarous clans that lived on Sirocco, a desert planet not far from Tarsonis, "the gentlemen" soon learnt to hate the Confederacy and to use whatever he ever had to bring it to it's knees. It has also been known that he was a member of the Sons of Korhal for a very brief period but returned to being as a bounty hunter patrolling the galactic rim. When the Terran Dominion gained control he turned his back on it to seek employment elsewhere. Over the many years, he has done "work" for numerous established yet corrupt politicians and military figures, notably General Draganja. One mission even involved the assassination of Emperor Mengsk but his employers terminated his employment for unknown reasons. From what is known of the Siroccan clans, "the Gentleman" is suspected to be ruthless, efficient - a pragmatist who does not think twice about killing, stealing or breaking any law that stands in the path of his job. Presumed highly dangerous, "the Gentleman" should be killed on sight by any self-respecting confederate.

[NioTheDreamer]

Personnel File-Blackhand Jack

General Information:

Gender: Male
Rank: Grunt
Specialization: artillery (knows guns)
Current Assignment: None

Transcript-Arcturus U:

Engineering:A
Advanced Calculus:C
Astronomy:A
Political Science:C
Xeno Studies: D
Applied Physics:B

Combat Training:

C-14 Proficiency-Marksman
Spread Shot (don't know guns)
Bazzuca-proficiency
Survival Training(training to survive on hostile territories)

Field Repairs: If it shoots then old Blackhand has fixed it. That and the basic parts of a spaceship engine

Weapon of Choice:

Machine Gun
Spread Shot (a big shotgun)
Bazooka
Automatic Hand Gun


Psychological profile:

Jack is an X space pirate. After his capture he was ordered into military service to "repent" for his wrongs. The reason for this was Jack's proficiency in combat, navigation, and artillery. As a pirate he knew guns and stars. He is know for burst of violent and reported to be a mean tempered son of a *censored*

Physical Profile:

Blackhand stands at 6'4 and weighs in at 230 pounds of muscle. He has dark hair, eyes, and skin. A thick beard covers most of his face, though one can tell underneath he has a rough beat up face. His face is extremely furrowed and he is not a pretty man. Blackhand got his name from the fact his left hand is a cybernetic replacement. He originally lost his left arm on a raid on imperial forces while a rebel (before he turned space pirate). This arm is a gun metal black and makes not efforts to pretend to be a human arm. Though it is shaped like and functions like a human arm one can easily see all the gismos that compose the arm.

Blackhand also lost his left eye in combat (which he wears a patch over) and he really really hates to surprised on his left side and has been know to beat a man to a pulp for said offense.

Blackhand can often be seen wearing a t-shirt (most likely with horizontal stripes or just plain), bandanna (decorated with a skull and cross bones (though hi-tech guns replace the cutlasses), and baggy pants. He often carries his hand gun on his belt and his machine but strapped to his back. He likes to left people know he is not a man to mess with.

He also carries an assortment of cards, dice, and other gambling materials.

[neosonichdghg]

Hooray! Now the game can begin!

Apollo - If you don't mind coming in a little later, I have an idea for a good entrance for you. Or you can write your own - it's totally up to you.

One last thing - please post your name and specialization in bold at the beginning of each post like this:

James Fuller
Mechanics

The dropship's flight had been smooth so far - not like the bumpy, rattling atmospheric flight of the jerry-rigged ships I'm accustomed to. The recycled air has only the slightest hint of the metallic tang attached to it, the spotless white-and-steel interior gleams under the fluorescent lights, and the other tech-heads are strapped into black leather seats and harnesses without so much as a scratch on them. This dropship is one of the best in the fleet - one of the brand new DuGalle patterns. I'm not even qualified to field repair this ship, and that's a rare thing.

Why would the Dominion send such an expensive fleet to a planet like this? There are no important resources in significant amounts, no strategic signinficance to the location, no starship construction bays or any other important manufacturing facilities. After eliminating those possibilities, the only reason is that the Dominion really believes that there is a Protoss ship on the planet. Interesting.

As the ship shudders under the stress of deceleration, I pull up the readouts on my CEP's visor. Repulsorjets...nominal. Hull integrity...nominal. Landing gear...extended. Landing beacon...all releveant data recieved. Everything seems to be going well.

"So, what's your story?" It takes me a moment to realize the man is talking to me, and a few more to focus on him and come up with a suitable answer.

"I was last stationed at Detara. I'm here to fix things." I'm fairly proud of my concise, simple response.

"That's it? No homeplanet? No personal reasons for joining the corps? Nothing?"

Ah. He wants more information. "I came from Caliban. My first mission was there. I joined the corps because I could get good pay and get to deal with new devices." That answered his questions quite nicely, I think.

"All right, fine. Never mind." He seems annoyed. Oh well, I tried.
The doors slide smoothly open with the crisp hiss of pristine pneumatics and our harnesses ka-chunk open. I turn my HUD off and join the other techies filing off onto the pad.

The port is nothing special - a large pad where the rest of the dropships are disgorging their passengers, a control tower with several antennae and dishes on top, a large gate leading to the rest of the colony. Everything looks worn down by the ever-present light tan sand. Also, some of the walls and a few of the old atmospheric craft sport gashes left by Zergling claws and there are a few clusters of acid-craters from Hydralisk spines. All in all, a rather decrepit place.

There's a man in front of us. Why is there a man in front of...Ah. He's going to brief us. I should have expected that. Well, once everyone's out of their dropships we can hear what he has to say. I look briefly to my left and right to take stock of the disembarking progress - Goliaths disengaging and stomping formard...Vultures unlocking their magnetic clamps and zipping into formation...Marines...lot of Marines - and then back at the man to await further information.

[Sitnam]

Bill Palmer
Vulture Pilot

"Last spider is set sir." I radio into base.

"Good. I hope the Zerg get a nice suprise when they come back for some vespine. Now, get home before a Hyrda spots you and decides it needs lunch. The Dominion sent a fleet, and I want you to get acquainted with the grunts."

"Be there in five minutes." And with that last transmission, I hit the engine on my Vulture and headed south towards the base. A normal Vulture would go a max of two-hundred thirty miles per hour, but with the ion boosters I added onto my little baby, I can speed through the wastelands on Gilbatrar at about two-sixty.

The silhouette of the port came up on the horizon not but a minute after I left the now mined vespine geyser... I could see the dropships coming down from the sky, ready to unload Marines, Firebats, Medics, and a whole array of armored vehichles, maybe even a few Vulture sqaudrons.

It didn't take long before I was back inside the garage. Their were a few arguments between the mechanics and newly arrived vulture pilots as where to put their bikes. This port really didn't have the facilities for such a large force without some planning. Hmm. Looks like somebodies about to give a briefing. I'm not with these guys, but this will probably apply to me as well, So I might aswell listen. I spot a man who looks to be a Dominion mechanic. Maybe this grease monkey will know what's going on. "Hey buddy, you know why you guys came? I know there was a Protoss ship floating around a while ago, but I didn't think Mensk was going to send an all out expidition force."

OOC: I'm talking to your charecter neosonichdghg

[neosonichdghg]

James Fuller
Mechanics

The operation is going smoothly. Everyone is unloading, and soon we can hear what we need to know. All simple and logical...

There's a man talking to me.

"...I didn't think Mengsk was going to send a full-out expedition force" was all I caught by the time I focused on him, but it's enough to go on.

"The energy readings we picked up indicated that there may be a Protoss ship in Zerg territory." He looks incredulous, so I add, "Mengsk seems to worry that the Zerg could find some way to use the Protoss technology."

He stares at me like I am an idiot. Oh well, I tried. I look around at the unloading marines once more and then turn back to the man still waiting to brief us.

Yes, I know you already mentioned the ship. That's the point. My character has a problem refocusing when something unexpected happens and missed most of what you said.

[Sitnam]

Bill Palmer
Vulture Pilot

Damn. This guy must be tired, or very unattentive. Before I could sya anything, he turned his back on me and looked at the man about the breif the troops. I go back to the garage, and try to get one of the local mechanics to replenish my spider mines.

[Apollo]

OOC: RE Neosonichdghg: Just PM your idea for my entrance and I'll consider it before I make an entrance which won't be until later on anyway.

[neosonichdghg]

All right, I am officially NOT going to introduce anyone's character for them. This is not to be mean, I just don't feel comfortable using anyone's character to do much of anything, especially making their first impression before I know anything about how they act.

EDIT: Hey cool, this is my 50'th post. I think I'll go get a candy bar.

[Nio the Namless]

OCC: Give me till the weekend then

[neosonichdghg]

No problem, Nio.

The story will officially continue this weekend after Nio does his intro. Until then, feel free to roleplay/introduce your chars and I will continue to reply as necessary. I may even post a story bit, but I doubt I can think of anything past standing there waiting for the guy to talk. I kind of wrote myself into a corner on that one.

Until then, check out the "Tales of the Hedgehog" thread on the FanFic forum for a freeverse poem I wrote. No! Come back! It's good, I promise!

[Apollo]

OOC: what the hell, I might as well begin.

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

"I repeat, any failure to respond in the next sixty seconds will be used as evidence at trial. Awaiting your response, over.

Sigh, this old game. Hmm, only one Valkyrie Frigate, that certainly makes a change. Making no effort to reply to the Expeditionary Fleet Officer I force a lever into position. "Apollo Reactor Enabled" sounds the robotic voice.

"And now, the fun begins!"

It's a strange, nervous feeling to be invisible. The ship's invisible, I know that, but nothing changes from my perception. I never know whether they can see me or not, just have to trust this heap of junk and pray it doesn't fail on me. It may be an old model, with countless patches and clumsy repairs, but it's made of strong stuff. There's still years of life in it.

A H.A.L.O missile whistles past the ship. Oh God the cloaking field did work didn't it?

"Computer, check visibility status. Go," I say hastily.

"Status is invisible."

"Hmm, OK, Computer, check for system failures. Go."

A few seconds pass before the computer replies. "No system failures."

"Well he's not firing any more missiles, hmm, guess we're alright then."

Nervously, I start up the ship and begin to edge forward. |Come on... There done, we're going. Nearly out of his range now. That was easier than expected.

"Alert! Alert! Cloaking Field failure! Visibility Status is now visible.

Blast, that's all I need! Swiftly I put the engines at full power, I might be able to get out of his firing range if I'm lucky... oh dear, he's seen me. Time to play cat and mouse again.

"Missile incoming! Closing in 5, 4, 3, 2... missile evaded.

Man I'm a good pilot, I'd hate to have to fight myself.

"He not giving up, must be new to the job. Oh well, I'll just keep it up for a bit longer and then I'll continue wi...

The ship shudders and a smoke begins to erupt from the control panel. Not good, not good at all.

"System failure! Code Red!" blares the computer as red light flashes on and off repeatedly in case I hadn't noticed. "Navigation - down, Engines - down, Computer - dow..."

"Well this is just great! All the way from Tarsonis undetected, and now, just as I was about to land this bloody rookie comes and fires H.A.L.O missiles in the back of my ship!"

The ship descends at a furious rate, nearly throwing me out of my seat. I'm not really the cautious type, but I think it's time to brace for impact.

[NioTheDreamer]

Blackhand
Artillery
Well this be a fine trip. Out to da middle of a freakin' wasteland where anything in the freakin' world could be happening. I mean dem scientics have a few screws loose, I ain't be the one to put them back in.

I grumbel to myself as the dropship sways a bit. Usually I love dees trips out into the middle of no where, but this a freakin' ice berg of a planet. Not only dat, its infested with they gallaxy vermine know as the zerg. If there is one thing I hate more den the old oder, its dem freaks. They've cause me alot more trouble den anything yet. God... the things I've seen.

I start to count the machine guns, rifles, and all the other peices of artillery we have stocked in this rig. I got of few of me' dinomite here as well, in case something needs blowing up.

As I feel dis ridge get closer to docking, I move out of the ammunitions room. I got wit' me a machine gun, a few gernades, a shotgun (high tech of version of coruse), and me trusty old hand gun. If I gotta die here, there at least gona find one big a$$ puddle of blood.

As da ridge hits the earth I get ready to disembark. A slight releive goes through me, at least I'll be getting some action here. Not like this boring @$$ trip....

OCC: best I could come up with now... hope you like the look into Blackhands cussing and stuborn mind

[Sitnam]

OOC- Since when our MG's and rifles artillery? No offence, but arillery would look like-

This (http://sus3041.web.infoseek.co.jp/contents/gun_db/m2a1_105/105H_006_m.JPG)
82mm Mortar (http://www.mortarsinminiature.com/images/Estonia%20Mortar.jpg)

Not this (http://www.nd.edu/~bhenness/AK-47.jpg)
Or this (http://www.is.lt/atas-buves/M2HB.jpg)

[Nio the Namless]

OOC- Since when our MG's and rifles artillery? No offence, but arillery would look like-

This (http://sus3041.web.infoseek.co.jp/contents/gun_db/m2a1_105/105H_006_m.JPG)
82mm Mortar (http://www.mortarsinminiature.com/images/Estonia%20Mortar.jpg)

Not this (http://www.nd.edu/~bhenness/AK-47.jpg)
Or this (http://www.is.lt/atas-buves/M2HB.jpg)
would that be munitiosn then? Frankly I know jack about guns...

[Sitnam]

OOC- Meh, it really doesn't matter. I am jsut picky about some things. No offence to you or anything, it was just bugging me.

[Apollo]

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

It takes several minutes for the haziness to clear after I open my eyes with a loud groan.

"Damn piece of junk"

At least I'm alive I thought.

"Hmm, lucky."

Yet, the Gentlemen wouldn't see it like that, that's not his style. He'd say it he planned to crash land so that the officer wouldn't pursue him and that it was down to his skill that he was alive.

"No, it wasn't luck; I planned to crash land so the officer didn't pursue me, yes, if it wasn't down to my skill I wouldn't be alive." I assured myself.

I unclipped the seat harness and got out of the ship. The smoking wreck was beyond repair, mashed completely. Yet strangely I remained unscathed save for a little dizziness that came now and then... now was one of those times.

I groaned again and clamped a gloved hand over my forehead. Hand still clutching I fell to my knees and leaned on the ship that was fit for the junkyard. It's nothing, concussion at the most I thought pulling myself to my feet. As soon as the pain left me I decided to get what equipment I had on the ship and set off in search of any terran settlement of any kind. I already carried two charger pistols at my waists, had enough ammunition on the bandolier and I was already wearing my goggles on my head. The canister rifle, psi-blade and apollo reactor pack however were in the cargo hold of the ship. And the problem was, that the door to the cargo hold had been crumpled on impact and refused to open.

"Nice, I have all the U-238 rounds I could ever need but no rifle to fire them... maybe I could throw them anyone I need to kill, yeah that would work," I said jokily.

Grabbing the metal handle on the door I began to pull again. "Now open goddamnit! I need... that bloody... rifle! Argh!"

This wasn't turning out to be my day. Not my day at all. For one my hair was in a complete mess...

Impatiently putting my hair into a awkward ponytail I turned from the ship. "Sod the rifle then, I can get another one easly enough. I surveyed the desolate wasteland that I had crash landed in and let out a gloomy laugh. "Yes, very skillful of me to land on this planets of all planets..."

It was probable about time I set off for somewhere, anywhere. Better than rotting here. I wiped my sweaty brow and moved a stray rebellious hair back into place. Over on the horizon I saw a large vehicles approaching...

OOC: The vehicle will be full of NPC's so it's up to Neosonichsghg to control them.

[neosonichdghg]

AAAAAAARRRRGH! THE FORUM IS POSSESSED!

Okay, I'm better. Has anyone else been having problems with their passwords? You know, other than the people who made a thread about it.

Oh, and Apollo? That's really evil.

I'll post in just a sec.

[neosonichdghg]

James Fuller
Mechanics

As I watch, the last Goliath stomps into place. Finally, we can hear what we need to.

"Everyone here?" The man looks around. "Good. I was surprised to see such an impressive force on our scanners, but there is a good reason you are all here." He clasps his hands behind his back and begins to pace. "Two years ago, we picked up some unusual energy readings in the Zerg area of the planet. Apparently, a Protoss ship had crash-landed. At first we assumed it to be an error with the equipment - It would not be the first. But, after the readings persisted, we began to notice strange occurences.

First the Zerg attacks began to peter out. They became less frequent, and gradually less powerful. It was strange, but the people of the colony were just happy that they had less and less Zerg to devote resources to. Then we found out what the Zerg needed the extra troops for.

Last month, the largest attack in the history of the colony was launched. We saw more Zerg in three days than we did in the last year and a half. Which is, of course, where all the Zerg from the last year and a half were going. Countless lives were lost and the colony itself was ravaged by the battle. Look around you at the damage to the landing area and realize that this was the last place to be struck, and one of the most intact. Clearly, there is some new intelligence behind the Zerg of Gribaltar."

He stopped pacing and looked at us. So far I was impressed - his tones changed with fluid competence, his facial expressions were perfect when we could see them and concealed by the angle of his face when they should be. Overall, this man was a skilled orator. I wondered what he was not telling us.

"There is another reason to believe this," he continued. "The energy readings in the Zerg sector, under closer scrutiny, suggest more than a Protoss ship. The distinct emanations of Khaydarin crystal have been detected near the pole. And we know what it has been used for - more and more new strains of Zerg are being sighted with shocking regularity, and even the more standard ones are mutating into new forms.

Your mission is, if the Emperor sees fit to give me command over you, to penetrate the Zerg defenses and investigate. You are to find out what is on our planet, what it is doing here, and if necessary remove it." His face, which had gradually shifted into firm dedication and fervor, softened with admirable precision.

"Your quarters will be assigned by the colony's integrated AI. Check your suit log for a map. If there are no further questions?" There are none. "Well then, you are dismissed until 1500 hours. Become acquainted with the colony, get some food, get some sleep, whatever you want. Just don't go outside." He turned around and walked toward the gate.

Apollo, you can control the NPC's. If you really want me to, I guess I will but otherwise just run them yourself. And whoever called the planet an iceberg - this is a warm planet. That's why the colony is near the pole.

[Apollo]

OOC: Ok, probably best I control them anyway... I have something planned...

[neosonichdghg]

As the man leaves, the Marines and other personnel around me fall out of formation. I stand and review my plan for the time I have available. Lets see...what time is it now? Well, that is easy - I pull up my HUD and check. 1030. So I have...six hours and thirty minutes. For two hours I will look the dropship over. For one hour I will eat lunch. For two hours and thirty minutes I will explore the colony. For two hours I will look over the armory. For forty-five minutes I will study the modified Vultures in the motor pool. There are always modified Vultures to look at. It seems to be a...

There's someone looking at me. Why is there someone looking at me? I have no assignments. I have not neglected any duties. No one is speaking to...

Ah. The briefing is over and I am still standing here. That is not normal. I should do something...I will go look at the dropship. I begin walking toward the ship I disembarked from.

I am swinging my arms. I am moving my head. Ah! Smile! Must not forget. I put my best "placeholder" smile on my face for the benefit of the man who was watching me strangely. He looks away, apparently satisfied that I am not unusual in any significant way. My face relaxes into a neutral expression again.

There is nothing overly different in the dropship's design other than the weapon systems I had already examined. The lower cargo area was slightly altered to make room for the bomb assembly. The cockpit was raised to accomodate the Vulcan cannons. The reactor was modified to provide power to the weapons. With a few choice modifications taking one hour and twenty-five minutes, I increase the output of the reactor.

Note to self - Used two units of compressed Vespene, one foot of half-inch conduit, one and one half foot of quarter-inch optic cable, one male connection optic converter, and one unit of torch fuel. Acquired two units of hydraulic fluid, one foot of one-inch conduit, and one and one half foot of quarter-inch analog cable.

What is next? Ah. Lunch. I call up a map to the nearest eating area and head there, taking stock of the colony's construction as I go. I order the day's special and sit down at the nearest unoccupied table.

There is a man sitting down at the table. What do I do when a man sits down at the table? Lets see...Smile. Cautious friendly, I think. That is a large unpleasant-looking person. Body language...shift center of weight forward, turn head generally towards person. Keep left arm over vitals. That is a large unpleasant-looking person. Introduction.

"Hello." He looks at me. "My name is James." Blast it, what was that phrase? Oh, yes. "What's your story?"

Hi, Blackhand! What's up? (please don't hurt me) And sorry if you wanted your char to be somewhere else at 1230 hours. It can be someone else if you did.

[NioTheDreamer]

OCC: I couldn't log in for almost two days, and I've been sick so that is why you haven't heard from me

Jack Blackhand
Weaponry

Gurb, I don't particullarly like it. Never been to particullar about what exatly dey be puttin in the grub as long as it be dead, but it do be making me full. As I sit there sholving food bits into my face I get a good look at me maties.

Not much to look at.

There are a few sexy female piolets but the men folk seem to be those darn whimpy accademy people. I went to an accademy, loathed the place. However cheatin' and knowing a good thing or two about guns and the gallexy got me threw it.

As I sit there devouring me food I see a well dressed bloak walk up to me. He seems nervous but curious, like a cat.

I don't do much of anything right away until the man pipes up and asks me.

"My name is James. What's your story?"

I smirk crawls across my unkempt face and I let out a harsh laugh, "Well ye get right down to buisness don't ya? Here sit down have a pint, you'd be lookin' like you could use some meat on dem bones."

I reach up with my mechanical arm and pull him right down into a chair, hoping to freak him out a bit. With my other arm I push a large mug over to him and say. "Me name is Jack Blackhand. Hey lad don't look so uptight now, put on a real smile. Not one of those plastic ones ye up in the big house like to wear."

I let a big smile encompase my face, the peices of food in my beard showing. I scratch my chin and start again, "All ye need to know about me is I be the weapons expert in des parts so what ya good fer."

[Apollo]

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

If I'm right, and I usually am... thats a terran freight vehicle if I'm not mistaken. Just the one of them though. They had sighted me, probably sooner than I had seen them. The crash probably showed up on their radars I guess. Slowly, the vehicle apporoached. A blinding glint of white light reflected its metallic roof.

Twenty yards away the freight skidded to a halt and two uniform marines disembarked. Here we go. "Steady," I whispered under my breath to myself. I have a knack for getting carried away with things, and seeing as how these might be the only terrans for miles and miles I'll try to keep the casualties to a minimum.

"Halt! State your identity!" shouts a nervous marine.

"My name?"

"Yes, your name - now," he repeats.

"Well, you see, it's a long story because it all depends on whether you wan..."

A shell pinged off the wrecked ship about a foot away from my head.

"Don't you think that was a little hasty?" I bellow over the humdrum of the freights engine.

"State your identity or we will be forced to shoot!" bellows one of the marines who clearly is in charge, either in rank or masculinity.

Forced? I don't think those trigger happy rookies need to be forced into shooting, they've already nearly killed me!

"I'm a courier," comes the weak lie.

"A courier? From where?"

"Um, a planet called... called..." I peer down at the ground for an instance deep in whirring thought. "...Called Medusae Delta" I say cringingly.

One of the marines looks to his comrade. Though his face is hidden his expression is no doubt one of confusion. "Medusae Delta, can't say I know that place. Where 'bouts is it?"

"On the Galactic Rim."

"Yeah, but where?"

"Near the um, northern, north-eastern edge."

"Must be pretty isolated."

"yeah, yeah it is."

"What did you say you name was again?"

"I didn't," i reply bluntly

"State your name sir, or we'll have no choice but to immobilise you."

"Is that what they call it these days?"

"Sir, your name!" Shouts the one with authority.

"um, Raynor."

"Raynor?! As in Jim Raynor?" exclaims the other.

"No no, I was just, mumbling something about him."

"Why?" he continues. "Do you know him?" The other marine gives him a sharp knock. "Your name sir, now!"

"Gentleman, now can we stop with the threats?"

"Enough with the pleasantries!" he growls. "Name or I shoot."

"But I told you my name" It's true, I did.

"Right. That's it." He kneels down and lines his rifle towards me. Quickly, I flick my charger pistol out and fire off a round before he can. I hit the ground near him, but it's enough to unsettle his balance. Running behind the crashed ship I crouch and take cover. The metallic pinging as bullet meets armour plating continues for a few moments.

I lean round to peer at them, only to meet a few bullets that whiz past my face. Instinctively I jerk back my head. Hastily I let off a few badly aimed rounds in their direction.

A muffled cry sounds. I must have got a lucky shot on. Peering round again I see marine clutching at his ankle. The other one is nowhere to be seen, and neither is the freight. Damn! They're going back to base I bet! And before I know it, they'll be sending a small army to "immobilise" me. With nothing else to do, I edge towards the injured marine and kick his rifle away to the side. I place a loaded pistol to his chest and unfasten the helmet visor.

"So, whats going on here?"

[neosonichdghg]

James Fuller
Mechanics

Interesting. A mechanical arm. Looks like hydraulics in the elbow, possibly electric in the fingers. Black casing, probably flexteel, chrome knuckles. Why chrome knuck...Ah. Intimidation.

That would also explain the physical contact. It probably works on most people. If I...Oh. He is talking.

"...now, put on a real smile. Not one of those plastic ones ye at the big house like to wear. All ye need to know about me is I be the weapons expert in des parts so what ya good fer?"

Pronunciation - poor. Probably either uneducated or an Arc U drifter. Accent - Kylothian. Numerous facial scars from bladed weapons - probably a brawler. Eye patch - scarring indicates a missing eye rather than aesthetic value. Note: Blind on left side, poor depth perception.

Ah. A smile. Warm, I believe. I pride myself on my warm smile - no one ever challenges my wam smile. I smile and say "Good to meet you. I'm a tech specialist. I fix the weapons you use. For example, that C-14 on your back. It could use a cleaning, the left bolt on the sights is loose, the action is slightly corroded, and the AMU could use an overhaul. I could fix all of that for you and make a few modifications to improve it." I swing my own weapon over my shoulder and place it on the table. "Like this."

Expression - helpful. Eyes - on his face. Hands - away from trigger, one on stock, one on magazine. Wait for response.

[NioTheDreamer]

Jack Blackhand
Sometin' about this chap is kinda creepy. Da way his eyes scan you, like he's some kinda computure. I don't be thinking much of it though. These cadet types are always like dat, and often they make good comrades-if a little annoying.

I listen to the boy speak, I know what he's talkin' about. But the thing is I just haven't been able to clean out the thing yet. New issue, hate that. Never give me anything good.

I let out a loud cough and then speak, "You seem like ye be knowing alot about guns too. But I be knowing alot to. I pull out my gun and place it on the table. I open a compartment in my arm and pull out a few tools (as well as from my belt). Cleaning rods, pilers, some steel wool."

I jam the rod in a few times, tighten the bolts, and remove some of the rust. I speak as I do this. "Don't be assuming ye the only know that knows alot about weaponry. If there is one thing I know its me good old Davy Jones. However they took me' last baby in transit. Bloody mongrels. Wouldn't of let em' do it if I knew they were going to loose the bloody thing.

As I clean my weapon, a little miffed, I say, "So what modifications do you have on that thing? High powered scope, better barrel, vaster load times?"

OCC: Just thought I would note that if there is one thing Blackhand knows is weapons, he might know a great deal about this arm (aside form matenence) but he keeps his guns up to date. (after all that was his life (as he was on something like a drifter))

[neosonichdghg]

Sorry for the delay. I was at a 32 hour gaming marathon. 29 hours of gaming and 3 hours of sleep. Total. Freaking. Zombie. And by the way, my weapon doesn't even look like a C-14 anymore, Nio. Look at my char sheet for a complete list of modifications.

Expression shift...Voice tone change...Hands moving involuntarily... Annoyance, possibly anger.

Not good.

Before I can formulate a defusion of the situation, an alarm sounds. I automatically scoop my weapon up off the table and rise before the voice chimes in over the PA system.

"All personnel, be advised: An unauthorized landing has been detected north of the colony. An investigation has been mounted. All military personnel report to the north gate - a strike force may be required. That is all."

I look at my new acquaintance, who shows no intention of rising before finishing his drink. While I wait for him to drain his mug and gather his equipment, I pull up a map on my HUD. By the time he is ready, I know which corridors to take to reach the assembly area and begin leading the way with my typical emotionlessness.

A crash-landing. What could that entail? Raiders? Not likely - not with a single ship. Reinforcements? No, we would know about them in advance. Protoss? No. The man on the PA would have mentioned that. Probably a fugitive of some kind.

Interesting.

Apollo, you're about to have company. Be prepared.

[Apollo]

Slightly hesitantly, I nod in agreement. "So, you plan to get this protoss ship or what?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"Oh, ok," I reply, pacing back and forth beside the ship.

I begin to look at the tool in my left hand that I took off the injured marine. "So this will cut through metal?"

He nods.

"Just aim that and..."

He nods again.

"Hmm, Ok, I'll give it a go."

I head round the ship to the cargo hold door. Following his instructions I cut the door in half and prise it open. I take the psi-blade and equip it to my belt, the Canister Rifle goes over my shoulder and the reactor pack, on my back. "That's more like it." I walk back round to where the injured marine was lying only to see an empty space where he was positioned. "Well I never, how on tarsonis does a man with a messed up ankle run away?"

"Oh well, I've got my equipment. Just got to fnd some people now..." I say as terran dropships hover into view. "...that is, unless they find me first.

[neosonichdghg]

James Fuller
Mechanics

As the green wireframes of the dropships close in on the red beacon, I switch on a mini-panel of the real time video stream from the dropship's cameras. The small box on my HUD shows the Vulcan cannon deploy from the underbelly of the dropship smoothly and swivel to track the small figure near the wreckage. As he looks up from the door he was attending to with a few pieces of equipment, I see a second man scuttling away with a limp.

Another survivor? No, he would have alerted the man at the wreck. A third faction? Impossible. No one else is currently on the planet. He must have come in the truck and been dispatched by the intruder.

Interesting. Note: Possible ally, probably unexpected by adversary.

As we close in on the lone figure staring up at us, the comm system on the dropship blares forth the voice of the pilot. "Intruder, identify yourself or be fired upon. Repeat, identify yourself or be fired upon." The man sidesteps, placing the hulk of his downed vehicle between him and the dropship.

"Intruder, identify yourself or be fired upon. This is your final warning." No response. The dropship strafes right to clear its line of sight. The crisp whine and hiss of the engine hydraulics tell me that my modifications are working.

As the man comes into view, the Vulcan cannon swivels and fires a burst, which he narrowly evades. Impressive reflexes.

As I scan his equipment, I notice a Protoss psi-blade in addition to a stock C-20. Perhaps this intruder is with whoever brought the Protoss technology to Gribaltar. As I ponder, he leaps out of the way of another burst of Impaler rounds from the Vulcan.

You're up, Apollo. this should be good.

[Apollo]

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

"Nngeeahh!" (The most accurate way of phonologically expressing the sheer panic inside of me as a burst of cannon fire spattered the ground near horrendously close to my feet.)

Ok, maybe these aren't as reluctant as the last batch to shoot at me. I rush back behind the wreck, dodging their fire as I scramble away. Good job I've honed these reflexes... would be the Gentlemans way of putting it, even though we all know deep down that the only thing keeping me alive was cowardice.

Swinging the canister rifle into aim I fire a few rounds at the dropship... nothing. And here comes the reciprocation...

Ripping noises sound from the wreck as cannon fire slices through it's body. Plan, need a plan... I notice a white strip of material torn from the innards of the ship's pilot seat. Never... do I have a choice?

Hastily I lift the material up in the air with my psi-blade and waver it around nervously. More cannon fire. White feathery shreds fall to the ground. "Ah, okay... it looks like I'll have to go out, all guns blazing to the end. This is it then." It had sounded more dramatic in my had than when I actually spoke it, and I had hoped that there would be someone to hear my final words but hey, what does it really matter in the end?

I reload the canister rifle, take a deep breath and start to turn around the edge of the wreck. The hissing noise of a landing dropship startles me somewhat in my unexpected burst of heroism and I trip awkwardly on to my hands, staring up as marines file out, every single gun locked on me.

OOC: I think you may be beginning to get a feeling of how my character truly behaves now, rather than taking the advise of a sensationalised criminal profile.

[NioTheDreamer]

Jack Blackhand
I follow Fuller out to the disturbance but not one second before I finnish me mug of ale. But when I get up I move fast, if for nothing more then to keep up appearances.

I run out close behind de cap I had just met. I be pretty sure this cadet (more of an expression then him knowing anything) knows what he is doing.

I see the rather strange fellow next to a very beat up rig. If I didn't know better he'd be a drifter of sorts running around in a flying death trap like dat.

I listen as the vulcan canon lets the bloak have a round of its ammo. I let out a deep laugh at the strangers expense.

"Be lookin' like he don't know what he is up against. I recon he thought he could sweet talk his way out of this kettle of broth."

I don't think Fuller really notices me say much as he is focused on his target. I let out a grun and ready my machine gun in my good arm and my hand gun in the other.

I see the stranger fall face first in the dirt and all the marines line up around him, and I join in. "So ya think yar pretty clever? HA! This be a spot on yar record aye mate? Don't worry maybe we let ya off easy with a good beatin' aye?"

I am just harassing the bloak. I really hope not harm to the sky man. Though I love watching his facial expressions.

OCC: Sorry I have been busy...

[neosonichdghg]

Hey, if you're waiting for me, don't. I'm going to let Apollo handle this one (I want to see the sparks fly)

[Apollo]

OOC: were the syntactical parallelisms intentional Nio?

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

I'm not an idiot. I mean, I'm daring and like to take risks but there's no way I'm getting out of this one. I'll just sit back and wait for an opportunity.

"Arms in the air! Now!" bellows a commanding officer.

Without reluctance I comply and do as he orders.

"We'll take this man back to the base for interrogation. Maybe he knows something about the protoss ship..."

Protoss ship? What on the galactic rim is he on about?

"Blackhand. escort him to the ship." An arm grips me and begins to drag me toward the ship in a mechanical fashion. My day is only just beginning.

[neosonichdghg]

Apollo, a major event is coming up that will give you the option either to escape or to help us out and be temporarily pardoned in the face of peril. Figure out what choice your character would make and prepare to make it good.

Things are about to get interesting, guys. But first, a glimpse at the stranger elements of Fuller's background and the reason he never discusses his past missions:


James Fuller
Mechanics

As the sergeant herds the man on board, I take the opportunity to analyze our new passenger's equipment more thoroughly.

C-20...stock...iron sight configuration...probably Mars-pattern. Limited edition, most likely illegaly obtained. Charger pistol...stock...snub barrel...Medusae Delta pattern. Preferred by outlaws. Protoss psi-blade...large Khaydarin crystal...apparently self-sufficient power supply...not personalized, most likely illegaly obtained.

Apparently a career outlaw. Interesting.

I've seen that face before...where? I can't remember. I can always remember. Blast it, who is he and where do I know him from?

Emotions...head hurts...calm...pain...calm...find center...

As I restore my mind to its emotionless, pain-free state, the dropship glides on back toward the colony.

[NioTheDreamer]

OCC: My strange speech patterns are indeed intentional! (well most of them.. a few of them were just blunders)

Jack Blackhand
Weaponry
"Fancy looking weaponry you have her'. I be wondering where you mange to get your hands on such a peice. I be thinkin' you do some underground work matey. Dat is the only way I ever get my hands on anything good." I let out a grunt as I talk at the man.

As I walk I aimlessly tug and drag at Fuller's suit. I don't bother to wait for him to get his feeting right, I just drag the bloak along. It be more fun dat way.

[neosonichdghg]

Uh, Nio? I'm Fuller. Just making sure you know.

[Nio the Namless]

Uh, Nio? I'm Fuller. Just making sure you know.
http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/17377722/

Opps, typo, drinks on me

[neosonichdghg]

Please, somebody post. If I have to use the other threads to get my forum fixes, I'm going to get banned or something.

EDIT: By the way, like my new avatar?

[NioTheDreamer]

OCC:I am waiting on Appolo. ANd ya I like it :)

[Apollo]

OOC: There isn't much I can really do since the situation is in your hands.

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

"Fancy looking weaponry you have her." I look up to the drone that said that. "I know, it is isn't it?" I point the charger pistol upwards into his face. "Care to have a closer look?"

Cue the restraining, starting off with a punch to the gut. here it comes...

I keel over into a foetal postion and hug my stomach. Once again I get dragged up on to the seat where I'm restrained. My weaponry is of course consficated and stored in the cargo hold.

So here I am - on a dropship - heading back to Mengsk knows where and all I can see are wary faces, staring at me at all times. I sure hope I don't get the sneezes - they'll shred me to pieces before I can say "achoo."

"So then, would anyone mind telling me where we are?"

[neosonichdghg]

All right, sorry I took so long. I was at Everything Unique selling Atom Smash cards.

James Fuller
Mechanics

So no connection to the Protoss ship. What is he doing here?

Equipment suggests a perilous criminal occupation. Not a smuggler - crashed ship contains no contraband. Not a mercenary - uses stock weapons. Not a raider - travels alone.

Interesting.

As I settle back into my harness and pull up a tactical scan on my HUD, motion on the edge of the visor catches my eye. Red dots...enemies? I hastily try to form a plan as several things happen simultaneously.

A klaxon sounds...ignore. Make plan.

Red boxes highlight the red dots on my HUD...ignore. Make plan.

The dropship shudders and a flash signals the break of a steam hydraulic line...ignore. Make plan.

The broken line swings toward my unshielded face. Not good. No plan. My organized mind shuts down and my head flashes with pain as the cool mental fog evaporates.

[neosonichdghg]

As my crippling network of plans and analyses burns into nothingness with excruciating pain, my mind is free to view the situation with blinding speed. The small world inside the vaccum-sealed ship is highlighted and crisscrossed with golden lines of possibility. My newly liberated conciousness races through infinite superstrings and the golden web pulses as each step locks into place, forming a clear path to the solution.

Pain...can't stay like this for long. Something wrong with my head. In the split second before my face is impaled on a knife-edged metal conduit, my hand flashes through a code on the console behind me. Wait...the harness hisses. Wait...the conduit closes in. Wait...the padded frame around my shoulders swings upward with excruciating slowness. Now! The muscles in my chest and arms do a complicated dance, thrusting the harness upward and deflecting the pipe just enough to be knocked away by the whistling muzzle of my weapon. Safety! Now quickly, before the burning spot in my brain does permanent damage...

[neosonichdghg]

Analyze...conduit deflected. Arm raised. Fingers closed around unidentified object.

Leather...Firm...molded...Ah. The hilt of my weapon. Why am I holding my...

Oh. I knocked away the conduit. Why is that conduit...

Something is happening. The other marines are panicking. Something is wrong with the ship. I glance at my HUD and see a brace of red dots closing in on the green wireframe of the dropship.

Impact soon. Ship going down. Plan?

Stabilize trunk. Extricate self. Analyze situation. Recover equipment. Escape wreckage. Formulate further.

With a plan firmly locked into place and my arms bracing my body for impact, I prepare for the worst as the dropship plummets to the ground.

Well, that was fun. So. Two Mutalisks shoot down the dropship, unknown Zerg force waiting for us on the ground. Hang on, it's going to get rough. Oh, and if you don't recognize the term, "trunk" refers to the torso, pelvis, and abdomen collectively. Generally the main body mass.

[NioTheDreamer]

OCC: What happened?

[neosonichdghg]

So. Two Mutalisks shoot down the dropship, unknown Zerg force waiting for us on the ground. Hang on, it's going to get rough.

Well, that pretty much sums it up. Although the characters really don't totally know what's going on.

[NioTheDreamer]

Jack Blackhand
Weaponry
There is a sudden bang and then the whole ridge rattles like a space viper. I look at my captive and then at the warning lights blaring off all around me.

"What in the 5 glaxies?"

Clang... Boom, CRASH!

Everything just seems to drop like a rock, boom, just like a rock.

I lack my arm onto the floor and hold on for all I am worth, I scream out.

"What in the bloody hel' in going on!"

[Apollo]

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

This could get good - the first of many thoughts I embrace as the dropship hurtles back to the soil. Hopefully my restrained condition will allow for a safer impact than that of the marines who are hanging on for their precious lives.

A strangely sinister thought breaches my mind, the thought that they will pay for being a hindrance to my objectives. A moment of clarity strikes me in the chaos, and whilst equipment and medic supplies bounce from wall to wall in a violent, thrashing tornado, I see myself from an outer-body view like a camera homing in on my head that is lashing about like some lifeless model. The model, me - it dawns on me at this point that I have to give the best I can if I ever plan on escaping alive.

"What in the bloody hel' in going on!" screams a fear struck marine. I smile gently, calmly. His flight response has kicked in, but there is nowhere to run. We're trapped in a smouldering meteorite and there is nothing, and I mean absolutey nothing, we can do about it.

[neosonichdghg]

James Fuller
Mechanics

Extricate self. Analyze situation. Recover equipment. Escape wreckage. Formulate further.

The cool solidity of a plan soothes my wounds as I lift a metal plate off of my chest. I orient myself and climb out of the wreckage, shedding bits of dropship as I rise painfully to my feet.

Analyze situation. Medical panel on HUD...structural integrity acceptable...no broken bones...no significant bleeding.

Dropship...I look around at the burning wreckage. Total loss.

Unit...I pull up a thermal scan on my HUD. four dead, six incapacitated, one missing, thirty-eight combat ready. Overall...Acceptable.

Recover equipment. Escape wreckage.

No equipment lost. As I clamber out of the dropship's hulk bearing an injured marine, I look around at the surrounding landscape.

West...nothing visible. South...direction of colony. Nothing visible. East...nothing visible. North...

Oh. Not good.

Formulate further.

Tactical HUD readout...Zerglings, Hydralisks, Mutalisks, possible Lurkers, numerous uncatalogued. Closing on our position. Prepare for combat.

What? What plan will be sufficient for thirty-nine soldiers to hold off this many Zerg? No possible solution.

No! There is a solution!

No solution.

Aah! Pain! There must be a solution!

No solution.

Nngh...pain...there must be a solution... I sink to my knees, head on fire.

No solution.

click

[neosonichdghg]

James Fuller
Unknown

As the pain in my head disappears, the golden web of superstrings reappears before my mental eye. Thirty-eight companions. Countless Zerg. Combat situation. I check the action on my C-14, unlock the magazine pouches at my waist, and stand to face the enemy.

Position...velocity...distance...wind...fire. As the burst of Impaler shells rips through the front line of Zerglings, I swivel to target another cluster. Position...velocity...fire. Gushing xeno corpses tumble across the dirt. Hydralisk, taking aim! Position...distance...wind...projectile energy...projectile mass...step! The green darts scream past me and I loose a burst into the creature's skull.

As the Zerg swarm thunders on, the marines around me finally begin firing at the onrushing line. Blackhand gesticulates wildly and bellows epithets as he blasts wildly away, surprising a nearby marine. I turn back to the Zerg and focus in on a strange mutli-legged beast with scything blades.

Position...velocity...distance...wind...

Fire.

[NioTheDreamer]

Jack Blackhand
Weaponry

"Confond it and go to hel'. I am going to teach these genetic freaks that Blackhand ain't one for being shot out of the freakin' sky.

The rig smashes into the earth and I hit me noggin pretty damn hard. And it don't take long for me comrades to figure out what in the seven galaxies is goin' on. Those mutanted flith the zerg have attack our ship.

Soon I be seeing out the hatch that not only is it the bloody zerg but its alot of bloody zerg.

"GO BACK TO THE ***** THE BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD!!" I year myself yell as I drop down. Me machine gun rattles and screams at it lets out its first burst of fire. I den hit the ground and let out another as a I role behind the hull of the ship. I bloody just miss being speared like a shiskabob. I see one of those "luker" spines rip right through the hull and throw sparks and shrapel everywhere. I cover me eyes and mutter, "Blood basterd."

With that I stand up and throw one of me gernades. I whip that egg as far as my arms can, nearly throwin' out me socket. Just before I be duckin' back behind de rid I see it land next to a large zerg who eyes it for a second.

"BOOM"

I smile as I yell, "Take that you lilly livered freaks!"

[Apollo]

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

My shaken head settles and my vision returns, slightly blurred but better than before.

"Take that you lilly livered freaks!"

The marines are coping well. They're returning fire before I've even reacted to this mess. Unclipping the belt I scramble out of the wrecked ship. I'm behind the marines, they can't see me, nor would they take notice if I ran... Yes. Maybe, just maybe, I can get away from them both... let them deal with it and I'll get on with my life thankyou. I stagger away from the carnage heading off over some dry cracked dirt and rock.

The sound of scraping, snarling wakes me from my thoughts. Turn... that's it... lets pretend you didn't see that zergling... now, run!

"Oh, s**t!"

A dead marines arm pokes out from the wreck, his canister rifle a few inches from his numb grasp. It's mine now! With a deft movement I roll, catch the gun and spin round to see the zergling confused as to where the heels it was snapping at have just disappeared to. "These boots are new, so lay off." A spray of green gunk splatters on the dry soil.

The marines are holding out, but not well. A strange hovering creatures swoops in toward a bearded marine with an eyepatch. He hasn't noticed. Before it finishes its metal-slicing wail I take aim carefully, fire! It falls, self-destructing on impact with the ground. I run forward, kneeling next to the marines and let another burst of fire off in the direction of the Zerg.

[neosonichdghg]

James Fuller
Unknown

Position...velocity...fire. A Hydralisk's head dissolves as my Impaler rounds rip through it. Position...velocity...fire. A Zergling convulses in its death throes, seconds away from gutting me. Suddenly, the golden superstrings shift and form a new web. Weapon...targets...ammunition...HUD readout...Oh, bad. Ammo. I flip the release, duck a volley of venomous spines, and scan my tactical HUD as I lock in a new clip.

Not good. Seven marines dead, three incapacitated, substantial Zerg force remaining and reinforcements still trickling in. The sergeant's distress call hasn't been answered yet, and the situation is getting worse. Webs flash before my eyes, running through countless possibilities and every minute resource. No solution but to stand ground. Unknown factors? Reinforcements...a few strands briefly flash to the south. No - unpredicatable and unsupportable. This newcomer...

Images and objects blur as they shift and rotate in my mind. Where do I know this man from? Several bits of color blend into a coherent network. The Gentleman! Probably Siroccan...the strange designs on the man's garment lock into a string of characters. Yes. Slightly aging...his silver hairs flash into my mind. Yes. Skin tone...scarring...psi-blade...the two objects blend into one. Yes. A resource? Possibly...No. Unpredictable. No psychological prfile other than an extensive criminal record.

Well, any port in a storm...I rush over to him, dispatching a Zergling and a dog-like creature on the way. As I begin to frame my request, he fires a burst into a Mutalisk above Blackhand. His mental object rotates, shifts, and suddenly looks a lot more pleasant.

"Mr. Gentleman!"

All right, I have one possible ending for the battle, but I'm open to you guys coming up with something on your own. Remember, though - we still need to get back to the colony and report. Although, Apollo, you may not like that idea... Ah, whatever. They're your characters.

[NioTheDreamer]

Jack Blackhand
Weaponry
I feel me gun rattleing away in me arms. Its vibrating anger unleashing it's metal furry onto the space scum. Each bullet hits like an explosion of flesh and steel. Aye, tis a sympothy of pain and death.

"CRASH!"

"What in the black hole!" I see a huge creature crash right infront of me. Its last vetigages of life twitching away.

"Die bastard!" I know she be dead but I blow that *****es brains to kindgom come, never know when they ain't dead.

I whirl around to see the captive be the one to safe me tan hide.

"Thanks lad!" Is all I manage to say. Me brain was a bit occupied with the present task at hand.

Wave after wave of the mutants through there hides at us. Dere faces twitching in a mad rage. None likin' I ever seen before either. Was like they was possed by some force dat would scream at them in there mind. "FLESH!" Aye, that's what I imagine it be sounding like. I love putting a bullet into that mug.

I take out me scatter shot and raise it along with my rattling maching gun. "BOOM!" The barrels thunders as peices of shaprenl are blown from da barrel, like scared fish.

I see a peice of shrapel lodge it self in a zerg's head and I smile for a bit at me success, but it me a minor victory as they just keep comin'.


I sure as ell' hope I don't die here. To dry of a planet...

[Apollo]

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

As another round of fire volleys forth from the retreating marines I hear my name being called, "Mr. Gentleman!"

What the? I never gave him my name! Crafty sod must've read my criminal profile or something.

"I'm..." I say letting off another well-aimed shot "kinda..." and another "busy, right now." The boy has an urgent look about him, so I stop and turn. "What is it?"

[neosonichdghg]

All right, I'm sorry I took so long. I was at a homeschooling fair selling cards. Anyway, if no one has any better ideas, let's move this story along.

James Fuller
Unknown

So he is the Gentleman. With his help...no. Still nothing. But what was it? I remembered something from an assignment. Some kind of plan. But when I thought about it, what blasted spot in my head began to burn again. Obviously, something was wrong and those memories were currently unavailable. So nothing. Maybe...what was that?

Green shapes on the tactical map! Dropships...Wraiths...even a Battleship! Something in my brain locked into place.

Detain the Gentleman

Of course! I should detain him. My superiors would surely want to speak with this prominent criminal figure. And some valuable information may be gleaned from the encounter.

I must detain the Gentleman.

But a series of images flashes through my mind, building a crystal of memories locked away in places I myself would never expect to look. The assignment...the Gentleman... No! He must be released!

"Mr. Gentleman!" He turns to look back at me. "An air force is coming! If you must escape, do it now! Head east, and then south. I never saw you, understand?" An almost audible click resounded through my mind as the unseen watcher caught on.

Oohh...that hurt. Quickly now. "I can't stay this lucid for much longer. Go now, or not at all. In a moment I will be your enemy." Ahhh!

The dropships are closing in...the signal is getting stronger...

The fog is rolling in...

Click

[NioTheDreamer]

OCC: I am not sure what is going on, so I will let Apollo proceed as my charature has nothing more to do the gleefully kill zerg

[neosonichdghg]

Well, soon the battle will be over and we can get to the story again. This was honestly kind of a litmus test of the RPG's strength, posting frequency, characters, etc. Remember, I'm new at this.

Soooo...One more post from Apollo and we're heading back home with a nice big story post to boot.

[neosonichdghg]

Apollo...you are our only hope...please return with us and play the RPG again...so we can continue...our story

[Apollo]

OOC: Sorry for making you wait, I've been so busy with exams that I couldn't find time to post.

"An air force is coming! If you must escape, do it now! Head east, and then south. I never saw you, understand?"

Contemplating his offer, I continue to shoot at the zerg, but... in a dazed state. My concentration has gone, the zerg turn to blurs of colour and the gun shots are distant metallic echoes. East then south... h'mm I don't know. I'd be on my own again, and this isn't really the type of place you go for a morning stroll all by yourself. Still, whats worse? The Zerg or...

"I can't stay this lucid for much longer. Go now, or not at all. In a moment I will be your enemy."

Sure enough, the sound of incoming dropships hones in on my ears. He wasn't lying. I dart into the crashed dropship as marines fire from around its wreckage, using it for cover. Taking my weapons from the storage hold, I exit the wreck, nod towards the nameless marine and begin to run east. As the dropships begin to land a blanket of fog engulfs the marines. I feel the piercing metal of a bullet rip through the air by my feet but I don't stop running. When the fog clears, I am nowhere to be seen.

[neosonichdghg]

All right, feel free to slap me for taking this long. I have been INCREDIBLY BUSY over the past several days. I have had approximately four or five hours of freetime, and those were spent getting my WoW account up and running. Again, sorry. But back to the show...

James Fuller
Mechanics

Analyze...System flooded with adrenaline. Rapid motion filling vision. Weapon in hands. Combat.

Whine of engines...retreating marines...dropships.

Plan? Back up ramp, find harness, secure trunk, prepare for liftoff, formulate further.

Execute plan. I back up, firing bursts as I go. Sit on seat...lock harness down...there. The hatch hisses closed as the last marine enters and the dropship under me shudders as we rise into the air.

What happened? Why were we out of the colony, and why wre we fighting?

No matter. We apparently completed our assignment. And we are most likely heading back to the colony now. I pull up my HUD to confirm.

North? why are we going... There is a man talking to us.

"...Zerg territory. We will probe the defenses, investigate the readings if possible, and return to base." His body sways, anchored by his grip on the ceiling-mounted bar. "If the defenses prove too strong for the force we have present, we will return to base for reinforcements and come back later. Understood?"

Response...pump fist, cheer...no, a Hoo-ah would be more appropriate. As I reassure the man of my enthusiasm, the other marines join me. The man points out the viewport as the Zerg border comes into view.

A masive wall of hideous towers with intertwined tentacles stares back at us. On the cast bed of Creep below, countless hordes of Zerg of all imaginable sorts look up at the approaching ships. The man who was briefing us stares, and then without a word the pilot turns the dropship around.

We need reinforcements.

A few hours later, we touch down at the colony once more and are given seven hours to eat and rest before departing again.

All right, free rein for the next seven hours. Apollo, following my directions will lead you back to the colony. Nio, just...whatever. Do whatever you want for seven hours. I'll probably be eating soon, but if you want to meet me somewhere else that's fine too. Same to you, Mr. Gentleman. Oh, and a heads-up: we will have a new player soon, I assume in the reinforcements we will depart with in seven hours. And no, that's not real-world time.

[Rogrim]

(OOC)Thanx for letting me join, maybe this time ill finally be able to complete an RP with Nio!(/OOC)

==Personal Profile==(Official record)

Name: Han
Age: 22
Sex: Male
Class: Marine

History: Unknown

Combat Training: Unknown

Record:

Discommendation- Insubordination (12.3.33.)
Discommendation- Unnecessarily endangering squad (43.23.33)
Discommendation- Unnecessarily endangering squad (20.27.33)
Discommendation- Brawling (23.8.35)
Discommendation- Insubordination (8.65.36)


==Personal Profile==(Unofficial)

Designation: C-1. He goes by Han
Age: 17
Sex: Male
Classification: Marine

Appearance: A tad bit short of 6 feet Han weighs around a 160 pounds. He is lean and well muscled with medium length, loose brown hair. He has a red kerchief tied around his head to keep his hair out of this face; its long ends dangle behind his head. His left eye is a cold gray, and a sharp contrast to the warm green of his right. He has not a single scar--even though he has been greatly wounded many times. He wears dark pants of a comfortable yet resilient material loose enough to provide unhindered mobility; these pants are riddled with pockets that hold all different kinds of equipment. He wears a standard issue shirt, and a dark coat similar to his pants over that. Comfortable and strong leather boots protect his feet. A pistol hangs from each hip and a large knife hangs from his belt.

Mental Analysis:

Almost always trusting his judgment over that of others, Han is terrible at taking orders. He also has a problem with authority. His confidence borders on complacence. To him everyone is incompetent until proven otherwise. His respect is hard to earn, and even harder to keep. He is as stubborn as a rock, once decided nothing can sway him. His face never betrays his emotions; he could play poker with the best. Things that would make other men cry for their mothers wouldn’t make him lift an eyebrow. He’s considered quite an oddity wherever he goes, and can be described as either insane or brilliant (occasionally both). He has a strong sense of honor and likes to take on impossible tasks (this is were the insanity part comes in). Extremely intelligent, inventive, and manipulative he often uses others to reach his goals. Han’ is not taken advantage of. A cunning combatant, Han often turns his environment into a weapon and always makes sure he is in the thick of things. Although a little shifty, once a promise has been made he always sticks to his word. He does not lie, but he is capable of weaving words together to obscure the truth.

Ironically, Han hates killing (other humans, and Protoss, the Zerg don’t get this benefit), and tries to find other uses for his abilities.


History:

For years the confederacy had been working on building genetically and cyberneticly enhanced soldiers to outfit their armies. This series of experiments was entitled project “Aggrandized” The first hundred or so different attempts were unsuccessful, not until B-34 did they finally get a subject to live out of the genetic manipulation chamber. B-34 died shortly after. Continuing their development the scientists were finally able to begin getting stable results and every one created was living. At about B-78 they decided they had become successful and began production of the C series. The first C ever made was the epitome of their genius, or so they thought. All went perfectly. The baby was born, with heightened intellect, reflex, and strength. He had an increased lung capacity and was impervious to most forms of radiation that made the bulky suits of the Terrans necessary. On top of this his cellular regeneration and immune system were enhanced.

A few days after he was born, cybernetic implants were installed. His left eye was removed and replaced with a prosthetic eye capable of detecting the entire known EM band, far beyond that of the normal visible light spectrum. A small supercomputing device was integrated into his brain, making him capable of interfacing with many computerized devices just by being near them. This also makes him susceptible to computer viruses. As he grew he was put through extensive brainwashing and training. He was trained with all sorts of weapons and skills, he was taught numerous combat tactics. He was to be the perfect soldier. One day along his training something went wrong. Something no one had expected. A personality surfaced.

Although they tried as hard as they could they could not suppress his being, he was no longer a machine, doing merely what he was told with no regard of what he wanted. For weeks they had to keep him sedated, attempting to overwrite this feeling of self. The scientists were worried. His body was beginning to fight the sedative drugs; his immune system was adapting and overcoming it. Finally one day they decided they had no choice but to kill their perfect creation. One doctor, who had done extensive training with the boy felt badly, she had been there when his personality surfaced. She knew he was a person; they had no right to kill him. Late at night the doctor released C-1 from the sedative. Upon awaking she told him he had to run, they were going to kill him. C-1 was the greatest failure of project Aggrandized.

Sneaking to the hanger he stole a Wraith and flew off into the sky. He lived a life of hiding, not staying in one place for long; the Confederacy would never stop hunting him. For many years he served as a privateer on pirate vessels. Somewhere along his journeys he gained the name “Han”.

On an early venture a technician discovered the implants Han had and knew they were out of the ordinary. For the next few weeks Han had to keep a close eye on him, making sure he didn’t share his discovery with anyone. Fortunately for Han the tech died in a Zerg attack. Since then Han has modified his implants so to all but the keenest of sensors they appear to be a simple ocular implant and a stim pack controller.

The remaining confederacy scientists, now hidden among Mengsk’s dominion, believe that he must be killed; but they also know that they cannot let Mengsk discover him or the project. If he did, he would surely shut it down, and they had not reached their goal yet...

Recently he enlisted as a marine, and does his best to get assignments on far out of the way worlds that no one really cares about.

Equipment:
---Two highly altered semi-automatic C-21 pistols, which now shoot larger, more powerful “magnum” style rounds, are accurate at a greater distance, have extended clips, and can fire at a much higher rate than normal.

---Additional ammunition.

---A large sturdy belt knife, approximately 1 foot in length.

---A multitude of different equipment is kept in all his pockets, including explosives and some simple tools.

(OOC) Their it is! If you have any specific entrance in mind for me, post it. If not, ill post my own entrance within an hour or so (/OOC)

[Apollo]

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

What was I thinking? Following the advice of a bloody marine... Serves me right that I'm smack bang in the middle of a deserted wasteland, then doesn't it? Head east, and then south indeed. If I ever catch that lying beggar I'll give him a greeting that the Maulers on Deeprigg IV would be pround of. I mean, what's he thinking? That he can fool me? You can no more fool me than you can fool an Impaler thats pointed at your head. Still, he's got some bottle. I'll give him that...

...And this must be the colony. Ah, so he wasn't lying. Okay. I take back what I said earlier then. Hmm, are there any guards around? Er, no. Don't think so anyway. Must be on a switchover I guess.

I walk forward into the clearing in front of the colony. A large ominous, metallic door throws away the idea, without hesitation, of entering in a conventional manner. I guess there will be some air ducts here. I begin to circle around the colony. Any guards... No... Automated Turrets instead!

"Yeargh!" I call as I dive back out of their range as turret fire rips the soil by my feet to shreds. S**t. That'll 've gone and set an alarmamathingy off, now wouldn't it?

[Rogrim]

Hann

Unbuckling my harness I rushed into the cockpit as the dropship rocked violently. The small ship shook again and I was thrown hard onto a metal bulkhead. Pushing myself forward I shoved my way past the pale co-pilot who stood near the back of the room looking at his control panel as if it were a Hydralisk, no, an Ultralisk.

As soon as he saw me he shouted, “We’re all gonn die! The Cor is leakin’!”

Shaking my head at his stupidity I quickly took his seat next to the pilot who was rapidly flipping switches and making course adjustments. Analyzing the situation I began to help, if we were lucky we might have enough power left to land.

“Go see if you can stop the leak, I have things under control here.” The grizzly, old pilot said to me after a minute or two.

Nodding to the pilot, who I was happy to see was rather competent, I left my seat and headed towards the engine room. The two-dozen or so geared-up marines I passed all looked either very frightened or just grim, marines always looked grim if they had seen more than one battlefield. Cringing at the thought that more than half of our passengers were fresh recruits I continued to the engine room. Crashing into the door as another violent shake rocked the ship I barely stopped myself from slipping onto the floor. As the heavy door hissed open I felt a massive heat wave hit me, it had to be almost 120 degrees.

Dashing to the tool compartment I plied open the case, looking for sealant. When it finally came open I found nothing but ammunition. Just my luck I thought to myself as I opened the next compartment, to find similar contents. I always managed to get on the ship that was malfunctioning, or where the crew had replaced vital tools with ammo. Trying to locate some other tool which would be useful I realized that the room was now reaching almost 140, and the core was near critical levels. Its deep red glow and hissing green gas had a menacing look.

Interfacing with the ships computer, through the device implanted in my brain, I quickly gathered all the useful data I could. We had about 100 km of altitude, and were traveling at 556 kph. That left under 11 minutes until we hit the surface. Overriding the pilots controls I layed in a new course. If all went to plan we would land within a kilometer of our destination on Gribaltar. But, of course, nothing ever went to plan.

Picking up the sudden jump in temperature of the core with my cybernetic eye I knew that we had well less than 4 minutes before it went critical and exploded. Making another course correction I prepared to eject the core.

As I began to unlock the first clamp the pilot barged in shouting wildly, “I’ve lost control of the ship, and now the core is going critical!”

Trying to look surprised I shouted back at him, “Go prepare the ship and marines for a rough landing as best you can, I will eject the core.”

“But the radiation in here is going to be strong enough to kill soon, and you have already been exposed! Let me do it!” He retorted while moving his hand to the first release clamp.

Grabbing his arm I looked him in the eye. Twitching my implant to the left while my real eye remained looking straight at him I said, “I can handle myself. Now, GO!”

Although it came out more harshly than I intended it did the job, and my eye trick helped too judging by the shocked look on his face.

Turning back to my job I pried the first release clamp open and into place. By now the core was so hot, and emitting so much radiation that if I so much as glanced at it my cybernetic eye would overload. Carefully averting my gaze I moved to the second clamp. The hot metal burned my hand as I quickly locked it into position. Reaching for the final clamp my hand suddenly jerked back, reflex to the now searing heat. 30 seconds... I reminded myself.

Taking a firm grasp of the final clamp I locked I into place. My hand came away with third degree burns. Stepping back I jabbed the button for release confirmation. Grabbing hold of a bulkhead I braced myself as the core shot out of the ship. The hard shock that followed reverberated through the metal. Running out of the engine room I grasped the next bulkhead just in time to brace myself as the core exploded, sending a shockwave, which rattled the ship.

Once again checking the status of the ship I quickly grabbed hold of a nearby handle while shouting “BRACE YOURSELVES!”

The now burning red hulk of dropship plummeted through the sky. Finally impacting the earth the dropship shook violently. The crashing sounds of twisted metal followed. Marines who had not buckled carefully flew across the cabin, unsecured weapons and supplies flew through the air dangerously. Fires erupted all over and explosions issued from different components. Suddenly the ship was on metal, skidding and sending sparks flying. I hope no one gets in the way… I thought.

As the ship finally lurched to a halt I inspected the damage. The other marines were all over the cabin, some with their rifles through their chests, others with bloody gaping holes from shrapnel. Many also had severe burns. Plying a chunk of bloody metal from my thigh I released the main hatch. A loud clack sounded as my boots met the metal runway a small distance below me.

Looking around I found that I was not only too accurate for my own good, but had excellent timing as well. A small fleet had just finished docking, dropships, wraiths, battleships, the works. So much for avoiding attention I thought as all the marines, pilots, and techs who had just unloaded stared at me and the burned hulk of metal I had landed in.

[NioTheDreamer]

Jack Blackhand

Zerg are the bloody bastards of the universe. Whatever in the ell' spawned the bloody space demons should be thrown in a blackhole. And I can only hope its as painful as I be imagining it.

With a grunt I dart out from the hulking ship that is now being used as a sheild against the zerg. I feel my machine gun vibrate against my shoulder I put as many bullets as I freakin' can in the mutants heads.

I feel the earth explode beneath me and I am tossed to the ground as a huge spine rips threw the earth.

"Bastards!" I wail as I throw a gernade into there midst. It explodes in a bloody explosion.

With that I roll back behind the ship just in time to avoid another fatal blow.

I see the captive has taken off after Fuller directs him some place. Normally I'd ask about it but I be a might bit distracted at the moment.

As waves upopn waves of zerg keep on a coming, I decide to ready my gernade launcher for combat...

we need bigger guns

OCC: many appologises. Been really busy with moving, tests, and the fact our home compy sucks big arse

[neosonichdghg]

Jaaack, old buddy...why are you still outside?

As the old saying goes, "Doesn't have the sense to come in out of the Zerg."

Or something.

Anyway, everybody's back at the colony. Remember? We got airlifted out...you were there...and Apollo! Apollo was there!

Ahhh...good times...

[Apollo]

OOC: It's true, I was. Oh, btw, if I'm outside the colony right now you guys will have already been there for a few hours because I couldn't have outrun a dropship. Except for Rogrim that is who has just arrived. PS: I just set off an intruder alarm :s

[NioTheDreamer]

OCC: Sorry sometimes you start going off and I am not sure what the heck your going off on. Well that is what I did before I went on the dropship...

Jack Blackhand

My bones ache, dat be a good battle. But de bloody bastards are still out there... And I find dis here dropship a tad cramped and I be gettin' off right quick to get something to eat and alot to drink. Can't be fighting on an empty belly I say, no stamina in dat.

But before me belly takes a hold of me mind I say to Fuller, "So what in da blue blazes you got planned? I be hopping it involves alot of gun power." I say the last bit with a little smile to my lips

[neosonichdghg]

Yeah, I sometimes start on these weird mental things and forget that no one else has a clue what I'm talking about because, like, 70-something percent of the people in America are auditory-sequential. Sorry about that, but since most of the groundwork is laid and the story is about to start developing Fuller should finally switch once more and then settle down in one brain-mode for a while. Anyhoo...

James Fuller
Mechanics

Request for information...acquaintance, reasonable tactical soundness...

Ful detail.

"I believe the best option is to avoid the conflict of a full-on assault altogether and tunnel under the perimeter. A substantial force, consisting largely of Firebats, would lead the way as the Combat Engineer teams tunnelled with mining laser rigs. The air force would wait in high orbit above the target area and wait for the ground force to emerge. When the marines came out of the tunnel and spread into a secure perimeter, the air forces would drop into support positions and quickly take out as many STA installations as possible. The task force would then proceed on its investigation."

Tactical probability...reasonable. Equipment...available. Troops...prepared.

Overall quality of plan...sound.

But where had it come from? I certainly had nothing to do with it.

How had such a plan appeared in my mind?

<waggles fingers> ooooooh, spooooky...All right, I'm tired. Don't make fun of me.

[Rogrim]

OOC: Did no one witness my crash :sad44: I said I did it right as the fleet was landing :sad02:

[neosonichdghg]

Sorry, Rogrim. Like I said, I was tired. I really did read it.

But now it's someone else's turn and they have to deal with it.

Yay!

[Apollo]

OOC: I guess I can try, but it's difficult because all I can do is wait for you guys to react to the alarm.

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

Taking cover behind a metal crate, I survey the surroundings and wait for guards to appear. Nothing. Strange... surely an alarm would have drawn everyone running towards me? So what's happening? Something, yes... something more important? Or at least something that draws more attention than an explosion.

A small wift of smoke rises in the distance from behind the colony. A fire of course! And while they're distracted I can get in unnoticed, get a bearing on my location... maybe get some transport and get back to my mission.

I head cautiously towards a ventilation cover, a slight urgency in my movement at the same time. It unscrews more easily than I thought it would have. That was almost too easy, I mean, why have all these robotic defenses and patrols when an intruder can just slip in here, like so...

[Rogrim]

OOC: Somebody’s got to do it

Sergeant Hann


Cringing as I limped forward, trying to favor my un-injured leg, I made my way slowly to the highest-ranking officer in the area. I gave him a lazy salute as the stunned on-lookers finally rushed to aid those from the crash. With many still staring at me, and the young second lieutenant, which I was addressing, looking absolutely bewildered I began to speak. “Sergeant Hann reporting for duty sir. now that the formalities are done with I believe someone should be investigating that perimeter alert, I volunteer. I’ll need a dozen marines.”

After a few moments of absorbing what I had said the officer responded in an aghast voice, “Perimeter alert? I have not been informed of any… and who are you to give orders?” He asked, suddenly outraged.

I was saved the necessity of responding as a voice cackled over his comlink, “Lieutenant Baker, the proximity sensors around the facility have just been triggered, send some men to investigate. Be thorough. “

“Aye sir” Baker said back, hesitating only a moment to stare at me.

“You better make it 18 then, he did say be thorough.” I said with a hint of sarcasm.

Growling under his breath Baker agreed and I began to select troops. My eyes quickly passed over a group of marines who were taught like ropes, standing at attention. I found what I wanted when I discovered a small group of marines, all who had just unloaded, already sitting around a large box and playing cards and lighting up cigarettes.

Signaling at them I shouted “Get the hell over here marines, we have a search to complete.”

As they slowly fell in, all grumbling and moaning about how they would rather relax, I gave them their orders.

“Six of you will leave the north entrance traveling right, and six left. If you find anything, report it immediately. Once you complete the circuit and meet with the other group check in,” as they went off I gave the remaining 6 their orders, “ Now, you 6 will split up in pairs of two, each of you will stand guard at one of the four main ventilation shafts, the only ones big enough to hold a man. Or zerg. I will be flooding those main shafts with gaseous sodium hydroxide, and guarding the fourth. If the intruders came in that way, they will either have to run, or die.”

As I finished the remaining marines saluted and ran off to their respective duties with a cold chuckle. Running to the closest ventilation shaft I waited to give time for the others to reach their destinations. After about four more minutes I interfaced with the compounds main computer and released the gas into the main shafts. Now, only to wait.

OOC: Your up Apollo! :happy34:

[Apollo]

OOC: eep

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

Its certainly perculiar. I am making my way down a ventilation shaft, Right, and nothing has happened. Nada. Nobody is even in the rooms below me. Zilch. I press my ear to the side. Nothing. Hmm, lets take a look around. I take a charger pistol and, after attaching a silencer, hold it to the bottom of the ventilation shaft. Hoping that it doesn't draw more attention I fire a small hole through the shaft and put my eye to the hole. Looks to be a medic bay... nobody around.

I keep moving. The first ventilation cover comes into view. I peer out of it and yet again nobody is there. Hmm, standards must have slipped. Quickly I remove the cover and get out, taking time to stretch. Ah! I appear to be in a kitchen. A cutting implement lies on the side of a unit. Reasoning that with my psi-blade lost I could use something for close-quarter fighting I conceal it in my coat.

"Come on, we might be too late!" echoes a voice from down the corridor. I'd best hide... but where? All the cabinets are too small... damn, looks like its back in the vent. I get back in and put the cover up, doing my best to refasten it. Then I back-track to the medic bay and fumble in my coat for the cutting tool. Lets see how strong this thing is. Placing it in the hole I press the on switch, emitting a concentrated lazer that burns through the metal. I cut a hole and drop into the medic bay. Now, then lets have a look for some supplies. A map would be good.

[Rogrim]

Hann

It had been almost ten minutes since I released the gas into the ventilation system, if their was anything, it would be dead by now. Once more interfacing with the central computer I removed the gas and set ventilation back to normal parameters.
"Sergeant, we have completed our circuits, and found nothing, but it looks like some of the automated defense cannons have recently fired, they are still hot." came a marines voice over my com unit.

Grabbing the com unit I gave the marines their next order, "Four of you go and fetch a remote observation droid, then deploy it into the vents and search for anything out of the ordinary, two of you come to my position, and the rest of you split up and search the compound, start with the most easily accessible areas."

After they gave a quick affirmative I waited for two marines to come relieve me. It seemed the gash in my leg was more serious than I had originally thought, and my burned hand was not helping much either.

As soon as the two marines replaced me I headed into the medical bay to treat my wounds.

[Apollo]

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

I quickly fold the bandages and put them in my coat. You never know when these might come in handy. Walking into the adjacent room the cold lights flicker before illuminating the metallic room. A map is positioned squarely on the wall, stored behind a glass frame. I quickly register my position. So we're here... then I would have landed around there... maybe a little more east. And that is where I should be going I thought, tracing my hand over the glass. Preoccupied in my planning I fail to notice the man enter the adjacent room.

[Rogrim]

Hann

Stepping Idly into the medical bay I noticed a circular metal plate on the ground. Looking up I see that it had fallen from a ventilation shaft directly above. Drawing one of my C-21's with my good hand I quietly begin to search the room. After finding nothing in the main room I moved into the adjacent room to find a man examining a map. He had a graying ponytail, and was wearing a beaten up trencoat. Poking out of one of his pockets is the end of some sort of laser cutting tool. Another of his pockets is bulging with bandages.
Lucky for me I have this bloody gash, or I never would have found him... atleast not this quickly, I thought sarcastically. Silently walking up behind him I pointed my weapon at his head and said "Would you mind sharing those bandages? I could really use one."

[Apollo]

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

"Would you mind sharing those bandages? I could really use one."

Oh crap. "Er, not at all, here." I say handing him the bandages from my packet. "In fact, take the lot."

"But on one condition..." what on Tarsonis am I doing? "...I'll give you these bandages..." Shut up fool! "...as long as you put down that gun, agreed?"

So now my life is worth bandages? Well played, dummy.

[NioTheDreamer]

Jack Blackhand


Every’ onc’ in a while somethings amazes me. Takes a lot but somehow old fate still manages to toss me something dat I just hadn’t seen before. And I be thinking a ship falling out of the sky with it’s pilot crawling from the wreckage and giving orders on the spot. Dot I ain’t to happy about’ it. Der fool broke up me card game, I have a half a mind to break his neck for dat.

Anyway de perimeter check be going wells so far. Though Lee still ain’t paid me my last rounds winnings in our card game. Bloody bastard.

“Lee you be giving me my winnings or I bust your hide, got that?”

“Is that so? Well don’t you think you should wait for a more appropriate time? I mean after all we are on patrol,” Lee responded to my statement with sarcasm.

“No, I know you. And I ain’t gona let it go,” I pick him up with my mechanical arm and start to strangle him. “Now give me my winnings!”

After a few coughs and gasps the blow hard smacks me in the head with his rifle. I get up to teach the blow hard a thing or two but then some warm liquid splatters all over my face.

I look at Lee to see a spine driven through his back.

I grab my radio and yell, “May de May de. We be under attack in section 4. Repeat de bloodily zerg have made der way back here.”


OCC: Hey rodgrim you givin' me orders? LoL

[Rogrim]

OOC: i wasnt specifically talking to you Nio, but you did it so, i guess i am givin you orders.

Chuckling sarcastically I clapped the man on the shoulder and was painfully reminded of my burn.

"You drive a hard bargain, but I think their are some people who will be wanting to talk to you, so untill then, you get to keep company with my gun." I said to him while I moved to one of the drawers and got out a dermal regenerater for my hand and leg.

"Now do not try running away, ill shoot you good in the leg if you do." I said while I put down my weapon and began using the medical instrament to heal my wounds.

"So, whats space scum like you doing here?" I asked as I continued the boring work.

[Apollo]

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

That gun wasn't going nowhere. Still, I tried. "Ehm, vacation?" I mumbled.

As he stared downwards at his leg I could tell that there was something about his eyes (not that one of them was obviously an implant... a dodgy one but an occular implant nonetheless) that told me he wasn't going to believe that.

Rethinking my response I say "To tell you the truth, I'm on a mission. Its of no concern to you laddie, though."

"You don't need to tell me not to run by the way, I'm not going anywhere. This bounty hunter has seen better days I'll tell ye that." S**t, I didn't did I? Yes, I think I did.

[Rogrim]

As I finish healing the wound on my leg I stare up at the bounty hunter for a moment before I move on to my hand.

"Who are you hunting? I hope its not a friend of mine, for your sake." I say to him as I begin the process of healing my burnt hand.

[Apollo]

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

I catch my wary refelction is a metallic frame on the wall. "I doubt it. Besides, it's not who I'm hunting... but what."

[Rogrim]

Hann

Pondering what the bounty hunter could be after if it wasn't a person I suddenly put down the medical tool. Loud alarms had begun blaring, their screams echoing in the almost empty medical bay. Interfacing with the computer I discovered that the compound was under Zerg attack.

"Come on, we have some work to do." I said to the man as I picked up my weapon from where I left it. Keeping him infront of me, we began to jog to combat the zerg.

[Apollo]

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

Initially, I was moved to complain about having to do more work, but further thought suggested that I should do what this guy tells me to do - I don't need two enemies. The zerg are more than capable of being a good nemesis. They come and go over the years, the raiders of the Psavian Belt, the Golbharan Enforcers... not the zerg though. Relentless and unchanging, they don't cease. It's an admirable quality though, I mean, at least you know where you are with a zerg - you see one, you know it's going to go for you so you shoot it - easy. These bloody terrans though, if you see one you're not sure whether he's going to shoot you in the leg or run or anything. The zerg don't get much sympathy either, being evil mutated aliens and all, so there's no guilt.

Whilst I am meandering off into my own thoughts we are getting closer to the compound perimeter. There is a side door down the corridor on the right and a staircase on the left that leads to the balcony. Being myself, and not wishing to bump into more unknown terrans, I mindlessly follow the soldier in front of me. I watch the pattern of his feet as he runs mechanically, with a dull interest. My mind is somewhere else. I even fail to notice how hard it is to keep up with this guy. He's getting slightly ahead of me, but I'm managing. Getting a little too old for all of this, I think.

[Rogrim]

"Come On!” I yelled to the bounty hunter behind me as I pick up the pace.

It had been a long while since I had participated in a good battle. Reaching a turning point in the corridor I decided we would be of most use on the upper rim, providing cover. And this way I would not have to worry about my bounty hunter kicking the bucket. As we climbed the ladder leading to the north tower I caught glimpses of the zerg through the tiny square openings in the walls. Suddenly something warm and gooey dripped onto my face. Looking up I saw a headless body in the grasp of a Hydralisk.

"Sh*t!” I yelled as I hastily grabbed my pistol and laid a few rounds into its face.

Grabbing onto the ladder as the two corpses fell on to me I deftly wiggled out of their way. Finally they slid past me and I could hear the moans of the bounty hunter as he handled the same predicament I was in just moments before.

When I finally reached the tower I was pleased to see there were two large emplacement turrets still functioning. Grabbing one I quickly loaded and began firing. Glancing over my shoulder I saw the bounty hunter doing the same. For a long time I sat their blasting away, my hands were becoming numb from holding the weapon which was shaking violently. Turning up to blast a Mutaslisk, which was racing towards us, I noticed some small creatures whizzing out from behind it.

With barely time to spare for a curse I grabbed the bounty hunter and leapt out of the tower as it exploded. Flying wildly through the air I wondered if I had miscalculated. Nope. My hand found a hold, a warm organic one. Thrashing violently the mutalisk was desperately trying to knock me off, but I held on for dear life, and that of the fellow holding on to my other arm.

[Apollo]

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

"Promise me you won't let go lad!" I yelled, clutching at his sleeve as best I could. While my hold was gradually slipping, his was iron and solid. it was a good job we ended up in this order, or we would be plummeting down to earth in the matter of seconds. Above the soldier the mutalisk flailed, violently spitting in all direction. I couldn't tell what it was spitting, only that they were alive.

[Rogrim]

OOC: are either of the nios here? i mean... it seems to be just me an apollo :'(

Hann

As if holding on to a flying mutalisk with a man dangling from your other was not hard enough a sudden hot searing pain shot into my arm. Looking up I saw hundreds of tiny creatures crawling all over my arm, eating away at my flesh. Clenching my teeth I tried to find a way out of this situation.

"Get ready!" I shouted to the man below me.

"On the next dive I am going to let go of you." I said as the color drained out of his face.

As we dived down again it turned out the bounty hunter got lucky. Nearby I spotted a fallen defense tower, its main platform exposed. Swinging him with all my might I let go at the last second. Not turning back I began worrying about myself.

Looking up again I saw that my arm was now covered in bloody gashes, the warm red liquid oozed slowly down my arm. Waiting till the creature turned, I heaved with all the strength I could muster and swung myself up onto the back of the flying beast.

Standing up with a few muttered curses I grabbed my pistol and shot once into the creatures skull. Damnit! Why do I keep doing this! I thought as I began to plummet down to the planets surface.

[Alakon]

These gaps in posting seem to be common. I don't suppose I could intrude myself into your universe? It'd be nice to have another RP to post in as well, it's a strain not to keep posting short novels in the RP I'm doing so this might alleviate some of the tension.
So, what do you say?

[Apollo]

OOC: Well, both Neo and Nio have pretty much vanished recently, so your more than welcome as far as I'm concerned. You can find the character sheets at the beginning of the thread, and if you need a synopsis of the story so far, feel free to ask.

[Rogrim]

OOC: I wouldnt mind another player, and i doubt Neo or Nio would care much since the both seem to have taken.... "extened leaves of absence"

So, like apollo said, look back at the character sheets (mines on page... 3 or 4 or something, i didnt join till a bit after it started) make one of you own, and join up

[Alakon]

OOC: This is a possible of two characters I had in mind. If this one is no good, I can revert to my original favourite.

======================Dominion Archives AV-076-44======================

Personnel File- Restricted Access
-
-
-

Profile>/…

Name: Turk
Gender: Male
Rank: UNASSIGNED

Affiliations:
GHOST program,
Dominion Bio-Corps,

Transcript- {NAME UNAVAILABLE}
Psi Sensitivity- 0.12rhi
Psi Active Force: 0.45rhi
Psi Relay Synapse: (0.55, 0.34)(0.66,0.61)(0.23,0.31)
PA Rating: 0.35
----------------------------
Aptitude-
Assassination- 32/5>0
Espionage- 12/67>1
Co-ordinated Rhi- 24/3>0
Mental Cap {Resistance} – 17/98>2

Transcript- United Earth’s Pre-{GHOST} Centre
Psychic Studies: B-
Xenobiology: B*
Diplomacy: A*
Basic Fleet Studies:
-Navigation: A-
-Gunnery: C
-Officer: B
-Engineering: C-
-Co-ordinator: B*
-Communications: B
Physiology: A
Human Bio: A-
Genetic Studies:A

Combat Training-
{NAME UNAVAILABLE}
C-10 Proficiency Mark II
C-12 Proficiency Mark I
Basic hand gun Proficiency Mark II
Alpha-Gamma ‘Eagle Eye’ Handgun Profiency Mark III
Unarmed Combat
Basic Armed Combat
Equipment Proficiency
Piloting Proficiency

Combat Career: {RESTRICTED}

Current Status: Outlaw

Equipment:

Alpha-Gamma Model ‘Eagle Eye’ Handgun (with Bio-link Scope and targeting). Class: T-5.

Neuro-Optical E-13 Techlink - An advanced piece of equipment that is placed over the eye and links the user directly with compatible Bio-linked Firearms, providing superior co-ordination and targeting.

Scope- Compatible with most forms of accepted rifles, and a few handguns, provides up to 120x magnification with adjusting focus lens and equilibrium buffer.

Neural cap- A slim metal band designed to impede external psychic waves, e.g telepathy or mind linking. This allows the user some protection against psychics.

C-10: Standard Issue Ghost rifle. Single shot canister gun.

Deamp Backback (with eyepiece)- A slim pack that molds and fits to all shapes, provides a communications pack of both Radio and Tachyon emission capability.
Also has side piece for quick slotting a removal of guns and/or magazines.
This Backpack designed by the Deamp Company features a complete network of interlaying sensors monitoring body condition, temperature, heart rate, adrenalin level, and injuries sustained at all times, and can be modified to administer anaesthetic to wounds. Built in emergency Positioning Unit, which if a Deamp Sattelite is in orbit can provide you with digital information on your location.
Eyepiece is provided for visual information.

Light Body Facing- Thin Supple sheet of Carbonized Syntho-Plastic that is fitted over the front of torso- Provides greater protection against high-velocity bullets of smaller mass. Larger bullets, or pierce rounds easily pass through the facing, a price to pay for the manoeuvrability.

3 magazines for C-10
6 Magazines for ‘Eagle-Eye’ Handgun
2 Charge units for electrical recharge.

Physical profile: Height of 5’11. Weighs 196 pounds, is naturally brown, and his hair is a dark brown, with streaks of light brown through it. His eyes are most peculiar for they range from a deep bronze to a light silver depending on his mood.
He possesses a handsome enough face, charming in it’s own way though he wouldn’t win any beauty contests, and it breaks often into a smile.

Mental Profile: This is the most dangerous aspect about Turk, as no-one can truly guess what he is thinking. He is accomplished at manipulating and guile, so his intent is never what you think it is.
His mental strength lay not in actual psychic ability, as that was never manifested very strongly in him, but in his total self control of thoughts and body, a powerful persuader and highly resistant to torture, or even mental persuasion.
However his years of training for a ghost has left scars that never truly heal.

History: No records can be found of Turk’s origins, the only ones being in the hands of the GHOST program. As most Ghosts in training are, Turk was taken at a very young age, his past, parents or native planet unknown.
His was enrolled in but one school dedicated to the preliminary training of potential ghosts, and it was quickly determined what field should Turk specialize in, and if he was worthy, and most importantly, if he was capable of killing.
Turk passed the test, and it was apparent that diplomacy and guile was his best bet, and so he was assigned to be two things, a negotiator, and a spy.
This Pre-lim School was a hasty project created by the UED, not one of the Confederacy’s creation, and the next place Turk was sent, the location is unknown, even to those who work there.
Turk hated who he was and what he was being forced to do, although he had not received any assignments yet, his training being incomplete, and when a base wide power failure occurred, Turk and several other victims seized their chance, and managed to take control of a dropship. They had all received training of some kind in navigation and piloting, so it was relatively easy for them to pilot out of there and head into deep space.
As soon as they arrived to the nearest inhabited planet, which was a Kel-Morian planet, Turk, who grew uneasy among his fellow psychics went his separate way, and has hopped from planet to planet since, trying to elude the agents that the GHOST program sent to try to reclaim him.
Locked in a desperate hunt and struggle, confronted by authorities at every turn, Turk still fights to discover who he truly is.

[Apollo]

That's perfect. Just enter any time you like, you know what's going on right? (just checking)

[Alakon]

Man dangling from mutalisk, base wide havoc, zerg scoured battlefields, yup, think I got it. Pity I'm have no idea where anything is in relation to each other, where Andorhal is for example. But I guess you guys are flexible huh?
I'll post here when I got something worked out.
Whew, 'tween this and the other rp, my afternoon's are beginning to look a little busy. Not that I'm complaining mind. I love rping.

[Apollo]

OOC: Personally, I have a lot going on. Involved in this rpg, another space one, signed up for Rogrim's rebs vs. imps rpg, involved in Sin's RPG forum, whilst slowly making my own forum on the side.

[Alakon]

OOC: Ouch Apollo, setting yourself up for a fall there, and that's not even mentioning Doublehex's World of Adune is it?
Ok, now this is just annoying, I just spent a good half hour reading through the posts from a-z and I still can't figure out what planet you guys are on. Mebbe a summary wouldn't be a bad idea. Till then...

Designation:Turk
Class: Ghost
Status: Outlaw
Location: Altair IV

He was Turk. Any vestige, scrap or memory of another identity has been washed away, swallowed up by the tide of time and experience. He was human, yet he felt no kinship with the swelling masses that swept around him; a flood of humanity, yet they seem little more than sheep.
He felt no bond with those who had the opportunity for identity, yet were content to let themselves be herded any which way they are prodded, like sheep in a pasture, nothing important outside their allotted space.
Turk knew better, people without identity were nothing, they would be swallowed up and consumed in time, with nothing to mark their passing.
So was the fate of Turk, and it was one which he could not easily escape.
------

I looked up from where I was standing, another non-descript bar in the middle of a featureless planet. I listened absently to the music emanate from the platform, a number of instrumentalists providing entertainment and solace for those who can find none in their lives.
Men and women moved to and from the darkened room, illuminated only by glowing neons behind the sweeping counter, and a few lamps on the wall. All designed to allow yourself be engulfed and forgotten in the darkness, simply another person enjoying themselves.
I simply stood there in the dark, allowing myself to remain hidden, for I could not allow anyone to recognize who he was.

Already reports of a dangerous criminal was circulating over the colonies, although the details were naturally not released and I was becoming increasingly pressed to keep a low profile. I grimaced slightly, they were more persistent than I had anticipated. Not that it mattered, I would not go back to that hellhole even if it meant dying.

A man under the effects of a mild narcotic stumbled past me, and gave me a cursory if somewhat bleary glance, one look at my face and he decided he was better off elsewhere. And so was I. I had already spent enough time on this patch of rock.
I was distracted by a threatening movement by the entrance, I looked up and then quickly averted his gaze. Three on duty officers had entered, they wore standard issue sidearms and they were holstered, but they had a look of men on business. Hopefully, I wasn’t that business.
As they walked past, the crowd parting to allow them through, no one wanted trouble with the Law Enforcement, I studied them closely.
I was sure they wouldn’t spot me, I was shrouded in a hooded jersey that obscured most of my features, and it was baggy enough to disguise the tell tale bulge of illegal equipment on my back, though fortunately I wasn’t foolish enough to have tried to conceal any heavy weaponry.
My interest perked up as he observed them seat themselves at a table, where another man waited. I moved towards them surreptitiously, moving my way through the crowd to the table, the music and noise had diminished not one bit, but it all faded to the background in a blend of white noise.
I sat at the counter which was not five feet away from the table, dangerous, I knew, but if it concerned me, well worth the risk.
I ordered a drink of something unfamiliar, though it didn’t matter, and try to listen on the conversation.
My augmented hearing picked it up easily.
“Sector 42 has been completely locked down. Security’s so tight a gnat couldn’t get in, let alone any god damn zerg” a young male’s voice said confidently.
“Not that it would matter, it’s going to be abandoned anyway as soon as whatever they’re doing is finished” said another voice.
“But if they should be overrun before they’re finished, it could be worse for all of us” a third voice said conspiratorially.
“You sound like you know something Herb, c’mon spit it out” the second voice demanded.
“Well, it’s only rumour, but I hear some scientist up there, he conducting tests on Zergs!” he whispered. The others snorted loudly in disbelief.
“Don’t be an idiot, even the UED isn’t stupid enough to do that”
“Well, they have before if you recall”
“That project was abandoned before it even started…”
“All right you guys, that’s enough, lets just enjoy our shore leave before we head back huh?” the fourth interrupted, and the others grumbled their assent.
My curiosity was fully aroused, it sounded mostly like hearsay, but it was still interesting enough to warrant investigation,
I grabbed my drink and turned to the table, “you don’t mind if I sit here do you?” I asked, pulling back my hood so my face was bare. It was sufficiently dark for them not to recognize my face even if they had seen it before. They nodded genially, though surprise clearly marked their faces even as they tried to conceal it.
“Been a hell of a day” I confided as he pulled up a chair “you don’t know what it’s like to be a transport pilot nowadays, ‘specially for those lot. People wouldn’t stop banging and crashing, gonna cost me a fortune to replace those seats.” They relaxed, I was apparently no-one of threat, just another pilot interested in resting my feet.
“How ‘bout you fellas, looks like you’ve had a tough day too huh?” I inquired, and they nodded vigorously, must be new recruits I thought derisively, transparent as glass indeed.
“Yeah, bit of trouble down in the slums, another street war” the young confident man said. I shook my head sadly.
“They don’t pay you guys enough to do that, seen a lot of action?” My comment made them warm up to me, and they instinctively tried to impress me with how experienced they were. I noted everything they said, nodding and laughing appropriately at their tales of heroism.
Then for the catalyst remark.
“I’ve heard of strange things going on’ shaking my head ruefully ‘rumour has it that the UED is starting some sort of zerg experiment, fool talk if you ask me…”
“It’s true!” one of them began excitedly, before anyone could shush him “ they set up a lab on Arganto f…” he broke off at warning looks from the others. So, Arganto four or five, sector 42. I’d have to see what I could dig up.
I carried on the conversation, allaying any suspicions, and finding a few interesting things of note. I ostentatiously look at my time piece on my wrist “sorry fellas, it’s time for me to get out of here. At least if I want to claim my ship in one piece. Maybe the Dominion Financer would reimburse me hm?” they chuckle at that, the likelihood of the Dominion Banks paying up anyone’s insurance, legal or not, was virtually nil.
As I stood up a chance light strayed across my face, and one of the men’s face flickered in recognition.

“Gawd-damn! That’s him, that’s the one from the briefing!” He fumbled for his sidearm, but my fist whipped out and connected him under the jaw. I overturned the table, and scrambled away. The officers all went sprawling to the floor, I darted into the crowd who took little notice.

One of them recovered sooner, and came in after me, with handgun drawn.
I waited, poised and alert, he came towards me, not seeing me until a chair crashed into his face, instinctively I followed up with a jab to the throat and audible snap as I twisted his neck. I didn’t touch the handgun. There was a loud crack that snapped through the air, and I could see one of the officers on the stage, with gun in the air.
Easy target I thought, I grabbed two glass cups from a nearby table even as the crowd was beginning to react, all rushing for the door in their eagerness to get out. The cups sailed overhead, and one slammed into the man’s stomach, doubling him over, the other connected with a loud crack to his skull, and he slid down to the floor.
A man pushed into me and I saw it was the same drugged man from before, with a startled look he shouldered past me and kept going.

The remaining officers came after me with drawn guns, I ducked just as the gun whirred, and a blast of shrapnel exploded behind me. I ran towards them, and as I heard the click of the gun reloading, I jumped into a long dive, I tucked up just before I hit the ground and I splayed out into a slide under the table. I came up hands moving fast, knocked the gun aside in one motion, followed it into a sharp twist behind the back and took hold of it, pointing it at the back of the man’s head. The other man tried to get a bead of me, but using the officer as a shield, I used my foot to kick a stool towards him, he brought his arms up to defend himself, and I pushed my hostage away. The man looked up to see me right in front of him, with a startled shout he brought his gun to bear but it was too late, a burst of gunfire through his skull stopped him. A sound behind me caused me to whirl and drop the man with another burst.
Four officers down, within the space of thirty seconds. I looked around at the room, tables and chairs had been knocked over by the rush of panicking people, and the room was now empty save for the four dead or unconscious officers.

My instinct was to make sure they were all dead, but it hardly mattered, this place probably had security cameras all over the place, and I had not the time to find them. Served me right for allowing my curiosity to get the better of me.

Wasting no time I stripped the officer, and put the uniform in my backpack vacuum storage. I grabbed his security id, and made my way out, before the local authority arrived.

Another mess to clean up. I thought wryly.

OOC: I'm sure it could do with editing, but to be frank, I think the quantity more than justifies the lack of polish.

[Apollo]

OOC: "Hi, I'm Apollo and I've been addicted to roleplaying for several years..."
Oh, world of adune isn't very active since the link was actually an old one, but I can always see if interest perks up again. If it does, then consider me a rpg zombie.

This planet is called Gribaltar (no link to earthen Gibraltar), a wasteland on the galactic rim with only one terran outpost. Unconfirmed reports have detailed the finding of a zerg colony in the north of Gribaltar, yet even stranger... a protoss ship has been detected under their control. Enter some hard-nailed terrans to go and uncover the mystery. Originally, they landed at the outpost, while I - being an incompetent bounty hunter - crash landed in the middle of nowhere. I got into a scrap with some marines who went to check out what my crash was, which ended up with more marines being sent, me being captured, the ship crashing on the way back and being underfire from zerg. I helped out and was given the advice to run west then south to escape the terran. The directions led me to the colony where I was stopped by Hans (rogrim) after he had 'landed' in the colony. Now the colony is under attack from zerg... probably followed me.

The Gentleman
Bounty Hunter

As the marine lets go of my arm I tumble and roll onto the platform of a defence tower. I slowly regain my composure and get up onto my feet. I feel the charger pistols still in my pockets. Unfortunately, I have completely lost where my psi-blade and Canister rifle have got to. Still, the Apollo Reactor pack is still on my back, nice and secure. Could be worse.

To my left I notice a hooked claw curl over the rim of the platform as smoke billows past from below. Quickly I unflick my pistols and raise them towards the claw. Through the impenetrable smoke a zergling dives for my face. I fall backwards off balance through clumsiness rather than defensive skill and fire erratically towards the alien. An explosion of green slime tells me that I did something right. Wiping the remnants from my face, once again I get up from my back. Hmm, okay, how do I get down from here? Peering over the edge, I realise that I'm a good two storeys high. Not good. Hearing a growl of inhuman tone I spin around to see another zergling. This one was dispatched quicker than the last. I'm getting better at this, I thought with a nervous smile. So I can't get down... where are these zerg coming from? Turning I look try to look past the smoke and catch the sight of the fragmented base of the tower. Next to it there are several zerg, including two hydralisks who are shooting acid at the already cracked building. Oh hell, least I know how I'm getting down from here... even though I probably would rather not know.

[neosonichdghg]

Wow, sorry I was gone for so long. I didn't post for a while because you guys had a kind of side plot thing and Blackhand was ignoring me. Then I was gone for more than a week on a youth trip. But now I'm back! And...there seem to be Zerg in the colony. Oooookay, who let Zerg in my colony? By the way - the colonists have known about the Zerg for a long time. They've been fighting for years, after all. Like, probably a quarter or so of the planet is owned by the local swarm. The only recent development is the Protoss ship. Anyhoo, back to the show!

James Fuller
Unknown

Ooooooh...what happened? My head hurts. Why the heck am I on the floor? I'll just fix that and...whoah...bad idea. A little more slowly...there.

Man, I'm gonna feel that in the morning. What's going on? I hear explosions...Yah! What was that?

As I spin around to look, head angrily protesting, I catch a glimpse of a barbed tail through the plate window beside me.

Zerg.

So...combat situation. But something's different. I'm thinking far too clearly. Normally I would have a much worse headache right now. Wait...maybe...
I pull up a structural readout of the colony. There are splotches of red and gray everywhere, but one label catches my eye. The central comm unit is out! That would explain it...But why? Why in the world would the comm unit be the cause of my problems? And how the heck did I already know that?

Wait a minute...I can remember.

I sink to my knees as I rapidly flick through my memories. Caliban...Nova...Arc Brutalis...Detara...countless quarries, countless battles...And every time, the same fog afterwards.

The surgery.

Oh, someone's going to pay for that. That bloody chip...Every battle, every mission, every single moment, they had my mind and my skills and every bit of my experience with none of the risk. I could know whatever I needed to to make their strategies, because I would never realize it. They lobotomized me! The one thing I have...the one thing that is truly mine...they stole it, hid it away, hoarded it until they could use it...

Someone's going to DIE for this!

I rise, my purpose now clear. The hold on my mind has finally been broken, and I know a few Confederates who are going to pay. But first, let's vent a little...I heft my rifle and key in a long-forgotten code with blinding speed. Instantly, the information on my HUD triples. Vector tracking...physiology trackers...advanced scanners...I can handle the massive amount of information now, and I'm going to use it. Oh, what a slaughter there will be...

I storm forward, rounding a corner toward the command center. A second later, four Impaler rounds shatter four Zergling heads with nary a faltering step. Continue down the corridor...target. Position...Vector...Velocity...Fire. A burst of uranium shells splatters Hydralisk brains on the wall. Vector...Velocity...Motion...Fire. Three more Zerglings fall twitching, dripping green ichor. Vector...Velocity...Charging speed...Fire. A final Zerg aberration collapses a foot in front of me, its forward momentum carrying it across the steel floor to my feet. I look up and continue.

Four Hydralisks, seventeen Zerglings, eight unidentfiable aberrations, and a very confused Scourge later, I limp up to the control room doors, wincing at the wound I had recieved to my leg. A little hotwiring...there. The door whooshes open to reveal a pristine saferoom with computer banks on the walls. When I jack into the nearest access port, I see a large amount of the colony left decimated by the Zerg assault. Strangely enough, no creatures had been detected before the perimeter defenses were destroyed. I wonder why until I look at the security cameras. All over the compound, Marines are firing wildly down empty corridors and being ripped apart by thin air.

So...they've evolved.

What is creating these new Zerg? An organic cloaking device...that's nigh on physically impossible! No mere Cerebrate is behind this. But before I can deal with the problem, the symptoms must be treated. The map shows an equipment room with personnel detector systems...that should be my next stop. I plug my headset mic into the colony's broadcast system.

"All Marines, all Marines! Proceed to Sector 5 as quickly as possible and meet at the Combat Engineer equipment room. Repeat, all Marines rendezvous at the Combat Engineer equipment room in Sector 5." As I jack out and heft my rifle once more, I wonder what sick mind is running this whole mess. Well, Confederate or Zerg notwithstanding, it is my duty and my delicious pleasure to remove this threat to mankind. My last thought before I hit the Stimpack and head out into the corridor is,

I almost feel sorry for them.

Story! Story for everbody! Yippy skippy! Well, I'm happy. There are detector units waiting if you guys want them. And you might...there are cloaked Zerg running around, after all.

This is, by the way, payback for letting Zerg into my colony. And I needed a good reason for them to get past the perimeter without raising an automatic alarm. Dang you, Blackhand!

[Rogrim]

Hitting the ground hard I rolled off the back of the dead mutalisk. Thick slime and dirt covered my jacket, but without time to spare to clean myself I began firing at the oncoming zerg. The battle was not going well, the zerg were advancing on all fronts.

Suddenly a voice broadcasts from the loud speakers, "All Marines, all Marines! Proceed to Sector 5 as quickly as possible and meet at the Combat Engineer equipment room. Repeat, all Marines rendezvous at the Combat Engineer equipment room in Sector 5."

With nothing better to do I begin charging down the closest corridor towards the equipment room. Ahead I could see the thermal forms of zerg through the wall, I would get to meet them around the next corner. Drawing my weapons I dived around the corner firing four rounds out into empty space. Empty space? No.... Invisible Zerg... fun... I thought as four zergling corpses fizzled into sight. If not for my cybernetic eye, I would have been dead.

Knowing that the equipment room must have thermal detectors I realized why the voice had commanded the rendezvous. Atleast someone knows what they are doing I thought grimly.

Charging into the corridor adjacent to the equipment room I saw a marine ahead, an angry looking one. As I reached him and was about to greet him we both simultaneously raised our weapons and fired past each other, I could feel the bullets whizzing past my head. In front and behind us about a dozen zerg fizzled into veiw. I was happy to finally meet someone who knew what he was doing. In my expeirience they are not common, and when you find one its best to stick by him. Turning heel with a nod I continued on to his destination, whatever it was.

[neosonichdghg]

Where is everybody? I'm sorry I was gone for so long.

Please come back?

[neosonichdghg]

Well, okay then. maybe they'll be back later. I hope.

James Fuller
Special Operations

For a half-hour, Marines have been trickling into the equipment room to recieve detector systems, medical attention, and weapons outfits. Many soldiers now sport bizarre modified constructions of blades, bolts, and flames, and a few cradle rocket launchers or heavy flamers cobbled together from spare equipment.

While the group gears up, I discuss strategy with the officers. We have already established that the compound can be retaken, judging from the sensor readings recovered from the demolished systems. The best way to go about it seems to be a two-pronged assault striking first at the storage areas in the east and the armories to the west. The two groups can then meet up and drive the Zerg out of the northern areas and seal the compound off with a few compact turrets and spider mines collected from the equipment rooms and armories. Once the compound is ours again, a suitable authority will be contacted for reinforcements with which to investigate.

Who will be contacted has yet to be established.

With that plan in mind, we assign Marines to the two groups and explain their responsibilities. Many are missing, presumed dead or captured. My foul-mouthed companion from yesterday, who made the initial report, has vanished without a trace. Even worse, the Gentleman, our best single resource, has not been seen since the beginning of the invasion. But we have no choice. The colony must be retaken, and we cannot combat the Zerg without understanding this new threat.

"All right men, let's move out!" I shoulder my weapon and lead the way back into the corridors of the compound.