NationStates Jolt Archive

Oompa held up the flaming torch to the wall, covering one side of the flame with his six-fingered hand so it didn't blow out.

Paintings! In a cave! Fascinating. Why anybody would want to stay in this damp, dark cave for long enough to draw anything was beyond Oompa's imagination, but here they were...
They weren't art. They were simple drawings. Although the light from the torch crackled and flickered, casting eerie shadows over everything, he could just make out the faint colours on the cave wall, which glistened with moisture.

It was some sort of story. He tracked it right down the wall until he found the beginning. It depicted a town, very much like his own village. Small, wooden houses painted white, with grass all around. Little stick people went about their daily business.
The next image showed the previously clear sky filled with... something. Great flying ships, bigger than any of the four moons in the picture. They appeared to be raining fire down on the small village. Smaller, giant birds were soaring through the air, chasing people who were running.
The third picture was even more disturbing so far as Oompa was concerned. Lizard people, giants, at least three heads taller than the tallest villager in the picture. They walked on the ground in rows. They had large, metal serpent heads, and carried what Oompa could only call bulky magic wands. Fire was launching from them, killing the villagers.
The next picture showed the villagers entering this cave. The lizard people followed them in. The next picture showed how some of the villagers went deep enough into the cave to fool the lizard people into thinking they were gone.

Oompa stepped away, blinking. Whoever drew that was pretty weird, he thought. I wonder if they're still here...
He wasn't going to stick around to find out. He turned around, carefully heading for the right passage out. He explored the caves frequently, but he'd never been this far before. He wasn't sure if he could remember the way.

He seemed to be progressing quite well, though. He had all but forgotten about the bizarre picture on the wall. Until he heard something.

Oompa stopped dead in his tracks. His species weren't warriors. They were fairly weak when it came down to it, and if animals attacked them they relied on tools to defend themselves. But this didn't sound like an animal. Not any animal he'd encountered before, anyway.

A rhythmic thudding sound. Deep, bellowing thuds, one after the other. If Oompa didn't know better, he'd say they were footsteps. Perhaps two people. But they were far too heavy to be footsteps. The thuds echoed right through the cave network. It almost sounded like there were footsteps coming from behind him sometimes.
He stayed motionless, listening intently as they sounded closer and closer. He could almost feel the ground shaking beneath his feet with every thud, until...
They must have been eight foot high. They wore bulky metal armour which covered their entire bodies, making their shoulders look much wider and taller than they actually were. Their feet were huge, and wore large metal boots. On their heads... their heads were like those in the images. Metal serpents! Flat, scaled, rounded and pointed at the end, with glowing green eyes...
The lizard people stopped when they saw Oompa. One of them shouted something in a language which sounded like that of the Before Time. It lifted one of their large, black magic wands, which started humming loudly. The end was pointed at Oompa.
Standing still might work against frekar beasts, but these serpents could see him. He threw his torch to the ground and span, running as fast as his thin legs could carry him. Rocks exploded in his face as the serpent tried to shoot him with its magic wand. Oompa shielded his eyes, yelling, and kept running. He turned his head to see whether they were following, but felt his own body slam into something. He collapsed to the ground, looking up.
One of the huge serpents loomed above him, its cold eyes glowing even brighter than the other two. It tossed its weapon to the ground and bent down, wrapping a clawed, scaly hand around his neck. Oompa clawed madly at the dirt floor beneath him, kicking the serpents arm as hard as he could, but it made no difference.
With just one arm, and no apparent effort, the lizard man lifted Oompa of the ground by his neck. His feet dangled several feet from the floor. The serpent said something in a mechanical voice, and laughed. A booming laugh that reverberated around Oompa's skull. He squealed, kicking at the serpent. But it only made it laugh even louder.

Without a second thought, the lizard man quickly jerked his arm backwards, then snapped it forwards again. Apart from a cracking noise, the small alien made no other sound as his body went limp. The lizard tossed him to one side and stomped towards his friends, laughing.



"It is just like the ancient Imperium records suggested," the First snorted. "This planet is populated by tiny weaklings. Even if they were trainable, I doubt they could be much use."

"Ghargon wants the mines on this planet opened," the Second said. "If we can't use the native species, what can we use? Gerash would just kill each other within a few months."

"I'm sure we can find willing employees," the First sighed. "It's not our problem though. We just have to secure the ancient facility. I think we can safely exterminate the natives. I'll order a bombardment. You two keep exploring these caves. I'll send another team out to the surface."

"Yes sir," the Second nodded. He motioned to the other Ghargonian shock trooper, and they stomped off down into the caves. Their helmets were found in old Imperium military barracks. They were very good at scaring primitives to make them easy to subjugate, as well as allowing them to see in the dark with various vision modes.

The First left the caves, standing outside. A large forest surrounded this small array of mountains, which made it unlikely that there had ever been a mining operation here. He pressed a button on his wrist, and his helmet folded away behind him.

"First here," he said into his mouthpiece. "I have two troopers scouting the caves. We have found the native species to be as the Imperium originally stated; weak and worthless. I recommend extermination."

"Don't be so hasty," General Grashnik said, from the ship in orbit above them. "The Ghargon wants this mining facility found. But we don't know where it is. Perhaps these primitives know?"

"I don't think their cognitive abilities are sufficiently developed for them to speak Ghargonian," the First objected. "I believe it would speed up the process to simply destroy them and..."

"You are not an officer yet," Grashnik snapped. "If I wanted your opinion I would have asked for it. Carry out my orders: capture one of the natives, and attempt to extract useful information from it. I will send a Gerash unit to assist with your search in the meantime."

"Yes sir," the First sighed, slamming his wrist against his chest -- it was both a salute and a way of cutting the transmission all at once. He looked up, waiting for the drop pods.



Inside the caves, the two Ghargonian shock troopers stood huddled over in the dark. They were quite a long way inside the caves now, it was completely black. So they were surprised to find an artificial light source.

"What do you think it is?" the Second said, looking at his colleague.

"Don't know," the Third shrugged. Well, he would have shrugged if it weren’t for his armour. "Press a button, find out."

"Heh, just like that," the Second snorted. The Third got bored and stood up, taking more interest in a small hole in the wall. The Second took his advice, and started pressing buttons on a small control panel. It made bleeping noises, but apparently nothing else. "You know, this isn't like the rest of the ancient Imperium stuff. It's..."

"Woah," the Third said. "It's not alone either." He stomped backwards a few steps, then ran at the wall of the cave. He slammed the dense armour plating of his shoulder against the wall, and it crumbled. The Third fell through it with a grunt.

"What are you doing?" the Second sighed, standing up. He walked around to look through the hole he made. "We've not got... woah..."

Thousands, if not millions, of similar devices illuminated a huge cave. They stretched as far as the eye could see, and were all identical. He looked down to see the Third sprawled out on the ground.

"Hey look," the Third said. "It's the other end of that device."

The second followed his gaze. Sure enough, the other end of the device poked through the wall. It had been here for a while, at least. It now looked like some kind of tube, with a filthy glass lid. He reached down and scraped the dirt off with his scaly hand until he could see through it.

"What the hell is that..." the Second snorted, taking a step back.

"What is it?" Third asked, brushing himself off. He didn't get an answer. Instead, as though the device suffered from delayed reactions, the tube made a whirring noise. The wall which held it in place crumbed away and allowed the tube to slide down to the flat cave floor. The top half, the glass part, slowly slid open, making a horrid metal-on-metal scraping noise as it went. A strange looking creature lay inside. Its eyes, if it had any, were shut. It had long, spindly arms, which were bent in the middle and folded at its sides. Instead of hands, its arms just ended in a point. Its legs were similarly spindly, though with flat parts at the end to stand on, and its head was an odd shape. Large, metallic teeth poked out from its wide mouth. Its rough, brown skin kept it well-hidden in the dark of the cave.

"What the hell is that..." the Second repeated, now that he could see it fully. The creature was about as long as a Ghargonian was high, but very, very slender. It looked almost like an insect.

"It's ugly, that's what," the Third said, stepped back through the hole in the wall. "I don't like it here, sir, I... I think we should leave now."

The Second span around when a deafening sound filled the cavern. All the tubes were opening. They hid the noise of another wail. The creature in the first tube had jolted upright, its mouth open as it let out a terrifying scream. The Second turned back just in time to see one of the creature's arm penetrate his chest as though the armour were nothing. It lifted him from his feet and he slid down the creature's arm, roaring in anger and pain.
He slammed a fist into the side of the creature's unusual head, expecting his strength to shatter the frail-looking creature. The creature shook its head, apparently dazed, but simply roared right back at him. It flicked its arm, and the Second flew into the wall just near the Third. He landed with a thud, groaning as his green blood trickled into a puddle.
The creature seemed dizzy, taking a few seconds to stand upright. After a couple of minutes, its legs spread a little wider and it stood still. Leaning forward, it roared at Third, who pulled up his rifle and fired of a few plasma rounds, roaring in forced anger at the creature.
The brown alien received every single blue ball of energy, knocking it back down to the floor. It writhed around for a few minutes in what appeared to be pain, until it stopped moving. Third sighed in relief, dropping to his knees to catch his breath.

"Sir, are you alright?" he said, looking behind him. Second was badly injured, but he was trying to get to his feet.

"I... I'll live... I think..." Second stammered, hacking up some blood. "We've got to... get outta here."

"I hear that!" Third jumped to his feet, ready to brace his commander for a quick exit, when his heart stopped. A deafening screech from behind him. He span around to see the creature standing up again. Its legs bent like a coiled spring, until it leapt into the air. It put its arms forward to make itself into a deadly javelin.
Third was about to raise his rifle again when he was pushed to the side. Second had some strength left, it seemed.

"Get out of here!" he shouted. "Tell them what we've found! These could be those 'Kree' that destroyed the Imperium! They have to destroy these caves before any of these things get out!"

Third wasn't about to argue. He scrambled to his feet and ran. He didn't look back, he didn't even breath. He just ran. He could hear thousands of the creatures screaming from the cave now.

Second didn't care. Ghargonians were durable, they had redundant organs, they could live through most things. But his wounds were terminal this far away from a hospital. The world moved in slow motion, everything was blurred, and he struggled to breath for all the blood in his throat. He wasn't Second of a unit of over 5,000 for nothing though. He had a few tricks left up his sleeve.

The creature was almost on him, but Second stepped -- or rather stumbled -- to one side at the last minute. It flew past him, sending up a cloud of dust as it impacted with the wall of the cave. One of its arms was embedded in the rocks. Second shrugged. The creature was ignoring him, trying to get its arm free. Second gave it a hand -- or took one away. He quickly slammed his heavy boot against the creature's stuck arm. However tough these things were, they couldn't ignore the laws of physics. It broke clean off, brown slime dripping from its stump as it fell over, wailing.
Its momentary lapse of concentration didn't last though. It was immediately back on its feet. Though its broken arm was coiled up close to its body, its other arm was still around to cause damage. Second and the creature circled an invisible marker. The creature made stabs at him, but he deflected them quicky with his wrist armour. The creature stepped forward and Second quickly jabbed at its head before stepping back.
They learned quickly though. It got frustrated, roared, and launched at him. He couldn't get out of the way this time and it knocked him to his back. He let out a roar of pain as the creature's good arm went straight through his shoulder and pinned him to the floor. Luckily, the pain didn't last too long, as the creature put a foot against his chin, and pushed. With seemingly no effort at all, Second's head tore away, snapping sounds drowning out all the wailing from the neighbouring cave.
The creature fed on the dead Ghargonian, lifted its head up and roared in victory. It turned and scurried back into the cavern. Its arm had grown back already.



Third ploughed out of the cave entrance, panting, and ran straight into First.

"What the hell are you doing?" he yelled as he struggled to keep his balance. "Get back in there and stop fooling around -- the Ghargon will have your head if he finds out you were mucking around. This mine's important!"

"Sir..." Third gasped. "Second... dead... creatures... billions of them! Ugly! Loud... didn't die when I shot it! And..."

"Slow down," First waved his hand. "What happened?"

"Creatures, in tubes," Third said. "We woke them up. There were thousands -- no, millions of them! Underground! One of them attacked us. I think he's killed Second. I shot it in the chest with my plasma rifle and it didn't even wound it! Second said they could be the Kree! We have to destroy the caves! No wait -- the entire planet!"

"Kree?" First laughed. "You mean, those things that crazy old man mentioned when we first got home? Yeah. Right. Even if they existed, he said they passed through our space long ago."

"It doesn't matter if they're Kree or not, we have to destroy those caves before those things get out!" Third snapped. "I shot it and it didn't even wince! It would be bad!"

"Listen, did you take any sensor readings to prove this story of yours?" First snorted. "I'm not going to destroy a possible terralium source because you listened to one too many fairy tales you fool."

"Hey! Second just died so I could tell you this!" Third yelled. If Ghargonians could go red with anger, he would have done. "I'm telling you, they..."

He was interrupted as the top of the mountain erupted, sending a cloud of dust and huge boulders everywhere, along with a thunderous roar.

"I think we should run now," Third nodded casually at First. First took a look at the incoming hail of boulders and nodded. They ran away from the mountain, just narrowly avoiding being crushed.

They turned back to the mountains, just barely able to see through the cloud of smoke and the leaves of the trees. A huge ship, which at first glance almost looked alive thanks to its brown colour and unusual textures, rose from the mountain. It had long, narrow, curved blade-like wings running around a central sphere, with a large, yellow engine port at the rear. There were no windows, no visible turrets, nothing else. It fired a mini-barrage of yellow energy blasts in their general direction, causing them to dive for cover, then tilted and flew up towards the sky.

First looked at the mutilated mountain for a second, confused.

"Kree, you say?" he asked Third. Third nodded sadly. "First to Hammer and Claw, First to Hammer and Claw, do you read over?"

"We read, First, go ahead," came a voice.

"General, you have an incoming hostile from near our location. Possibly Kree. Recommend you go to Battle Alert Alpha immediately."

"Acknowledged, we just picked up an unusual contact on sensors," Grashnik said. "We'll recall the Gerash drop pods, they haven't entered the atmosphere yet. Get back to your ship and head up here."

"Yes si... uh oh..."

He looked back up at the mountain as another identical ship emerged, and followed the course of the first ship.

"Make that two contacts General," he shouted. "We'll head back up ASAP, First out."



Grashnik paced the command deck. The brand new vessel, Hammer and Claw, was built using advanced Imperium technologies they found in the databanks when they arrived. It was more powerful, and twice as large, as any of their previous Venerator-class ships. He was confident of its abilities.

"General, hostile contact has adjusted its course to engage us," the Tac-Officer announced. "Within our weapons range in 30 kelaks."

"Charge all shielding, deploy armour," Grashnik said calmly. "All remaining power to forward turrets, ready missiles."

"Yes General," the Tac Officer nodded, pressing buttons. "Full battle mode is prepared."

Grashnik watched a monitor as a second yellow dot appeared near the planet. It suddenly altered its course just like the first had, apparently drawn to them for some reason.

"Kekar! Within range!" the excited Tac Officer shouted.

"Fire all weapons at will!" Grashnik bellowed. He looked out the front viewing windows as streams of blue and red energy blasts and projectiles spewed from their mighty ship, headed straight for the unusual brown vessel. It was a tenth of the size of the Hammer and Claw, but if the legends of Kree were accurate, size wouldn't matter...
Some projectiles left white streamers -- missiles. They were deadly accurate, and were even dodging energy blasts from the Hammer and Claw.
Most of the blasts, and all the missiles, impacted on the ship, consuming it with a ball of plasma fire larger than the ship itself. Grashnik clenched his fist, whispering an ancient Ghargonian victory chant under his breath.

"Focus your attacks on the second object!" he cried, sitting down. He was quite surprised to see that when the plasma fireball rescinded, the first ship was still flying at them, completely undamaged. "WHAT? Are they shielded?!"

"I am unable to penetrate their hull with any sensors General," the Tac-Officer said as the hostile unleashed a barrage of yellow energy upon them.
Their shields flashed as they protested, but immediately overloaded and failed. The hull was eaten away in huge chunks with each individual energy blast, as though it was made of card. When they reached the engine room, a blinding white light flashed -- the core went critical. The entire area of space was consumed by a shock wave. The Kree ships didn't seem bothered, and turned away, continuing on their original course.



"You see that?" Third asked, looking up. A huge explosion in space could be seen even from the ground.

"I hope that's one of those brown things..." First gulped.

"I think we're on our own, sir," Third said, patting his metal shoulder. "Hey, maybe that village of natives will put us up while we try to contact Ghargonia Prime?"

"If they don't, we can kill them all anyway," First shrugged. "Let's go."

I think that nobody wants to reply this...is so long :eek:

TAG, from the part I read, it seemed a good read. I'll check on this later.

oompa loompa doopide doo

OOC: Thanks... and thanks for the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory quote :p. I wanted eccentric names for the locals... and Oompa sounded as odd as anything. Think of them as 5-foot, lanky Oompa Loompas then...
Oh, I should also add that as novice as I am at these RPs, this is open for anyone who can think of a way of joining. Kree aren't a part of my nation, they're an alien race who supposedly wiped out the First Imperium. These Ghargonians are rebels who broke away a few thousand years ago, and... well, it's all in these forums somewhere. Suffice it to say that the Kree are devastatingly destructive, and remarkably durable, so you may want to RP them as such.
Although the Ghargonian borders are sealed, they don't really have enough ships yet to hold an interstellar empire particularly tightly, although you don't know that. If you even know they exist at all. And now their ships have bigger things to worry about than border patrols. And in addition, the only inhabited world is Ghargonia Prime, only some ruins on their other planets. So accidentally crossing the Ghargonian border isn't exactly beyond the realms of imagination...

IC:

Mompa was just packing his tools away for the night. He’d been busy building a new shed to store his experiments in. The other villagers thought he was a kook, but he knew better. There was potential in steam-driven machines, he knew it. He’d already made one work, which he called an ‘engine’. It could potentially power a small mill, or perhaps even a vehicle of some kind. It almost blew up the first time he tried activating it, but since then he’d made some progress.

He sighed and shut the door. He was pleased with how smooth the hinges were, though he still needed some covering for the roof before he could use it.
After all the work the elderly man had been doing today, along with the rather frightening sounds coming from the Haunted Caves earlier today, he was tired. He was worried that little Oompa hadn’t returned. Last time he was this late, his mother was distraught. Turned out he’d gotten lost in the caves. Mompa thought that it was a good way to endanger your life, all that exploring. Much safer to stay home and try and improve the village in some way.

He turned to leave, holding his lamp a little lower so he could see the ground better. He turned, squinting, as he heard a loud thudding sound. It grew nearer, though it was muffled. It sounded like something was hitting the ground over and over, like… footsteps!

His eyes weren’t what they used to be. He could see two figures, apparently people, walking through the field behind his small house. But…
Were their eyes glowing? He stepped forward. It looked as though they were glowing green. He turned to see if there was a green light or something behind him, but he couldn’t see one. He turned back, and they were close enough to see.

“Aggh!” he cried out, falling to the floor. They were huge! They had metal heads, shaped like snakes or something. They held long black objects with intricate details and flashing lights. With their bodies coated in black, they looked just like the mythical Gorgosaur monsters in ancient legends…

He scrambled along the floor, desperately trying to reach his shed as one of them approached him. He covered his eyes… the monster bent over him, blocking out all the moonlight and all the stars…

But nothing happened.

The old man dared to look at the monster again… it held its hand out. It had scaly green skin with vicious looking claws, but it was definitely an animal. Not a demon or anything.

He hesitated, but the creature didn’t move. He took the creatures hand and he helped him to his feet.

“Why… why thank you, sir,” he said in a quaky voice. The huge person said something, but his voice was distorted, as though he were speaking but the noise came from elsewhere. It was in a language he recognised, but didn’t understand. The language of the Gods of the Before Time, perhaps? They seemed real enough. Gods sure didn’t have muddy metal boots, that’s for sure.

“I… I don’t understand,” Mompa said slowly, shaking his head. The creature gestured at the building with his hand, then at Mompa. “Is… is that house mine? Yes, yes it is!” he nodded. “You want to come inside? Oh…” he gestured at them, then at the house. Their large metal heads bobbed up and down. “Come, then… if you don’t cause any trouble, you can stay. Ugh, not that I could do much to stop you if you did cause trouble…”

He gestured at the path, and made his way towards the small, dome-shaped house. It was two floors, and had windows poking out from various places, but it was small. He didn’t need much space anymore, just a large garden to tinker in. He fumbled with the door and finally pushed it open, leading the way. The creatures almost had to get down on their hands and knees to fit, and once they were inside it wasn’t much better.
One of them reached down to touch something on his wrist. It made a pleasant bleeping sound, and his metal head rapidly folded in on itself, disappearing somewhere into his back. What remained was… some kind of lizard. A long snout, bright yellow eyes (although these ones didn’t glow), no hair but lots of green-brown scales, and sharp, white teeth poking from its mouth. The other creature followed suit. With their ‘heads’ gone, they could almost stand up.

“Ah… much… erm, much better,” Mompa smiled nervously. The creatures seemed to ignore him, talking to each other. Their voices sounded natural now that their helmets were gone, but they were still deep and throaty. Almost like snarling.



“Luckily those things didn’t destroy the transmitter as well,” First said, pulling the large device from his sack. He slammed it down on the floor. “Microtechnology my arse, this thing weighs more than my mother.”

“Well this is great,” Third said, waving his arms. “We’re stuck here with these tiny primitives who don’t even know how to make proper goulack. All we have to do is find a power source for the transmitter and we’re home free!”

“Ah quit your whining,” First snapped. “The Imperium occupied this planet not more than five or six thousand years ago. They must have left something behind that could power this thing. It’s not like our technology has changed that much.”

“Well we didn’t have much luck finding a mine so large it could provide enough resources to build a quarter of an interstellar fleet, did we?” Third cried. “How the hell are we going to find a hydro-cell, or a fusion generator, or a quantum f…”

“Calm down,” First said. “We’ll figure something out.”

Third sighed, pressing buttons on the dead transmitter hopelessly. “This thing is just weighing us down. Even if we do find an old Imperium base, it’d probably have its own transmitters.”

“What are you, a Gerash? You don’t make assumptions like that,” First said. “Prepare for the worst, because the worst will almost certainly happen. Where were you in basic training?”

“Supposing the Imperium base was dismantled before they left,” Third said. “What if those Kree people destroyed it completely? What if there’s nothing left here to find?”

“Well we can rule out destruction,” First said. “Otherwise these animals wouldn’t be here. And from what I understand of these legends, the Kree didn’t exactly give the Imperium time to dismantle. Listen, we’ll use this village as a base, scout around. If we don’t find anything, we don’t find anything. We’ll just have to hope someone finds us, if there’s anyone left. We have to try. We’re not Gerash, we don’t just shrivel up and die if we’re not in battle.”

“I guess you’re right,” Third sighed, tapping some buttons again. The small creature raised its tiny arm and said something.

“I can’t believe those things have a language,” First snorted. “Look at it. It’s almost as small as those humans in Zeta section.”

“It seems to be interested in this transmitter,” Third pondered out loud. “When I pressed buttons.”

“Why don’t you ask it for help?” First said. He grinned, bearing his huge, gleaming teeth. They were curved back viciously, a sign of their species lust for meat.

The small creature was gesturing at the door madly.

“Maybe it wants to go out,” First shrugged. “I doubt these things have waste disposal systems.”

“Hey, seriously,” Third snapped. “Anything that can build a structure like this, furniture like that, and light fires in contained environments like this have at least rudimentary intelligence.”

“Who says?”

“Imperium City University,” Third said, quite proud of himself. “I’m not as stupid as I look you know.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” First shrugged. “OK, you go follow it, I’ll try and come up with something to save our lives.”

Third stood up, glaring down at the small mammal. “OK, I’m following you.”



Mompa noticed the huge humanoid creature pressing buttons on that large device. He wouldn’t claim to know anything about their technology, but he assumed it wasn’t witchcraft. There must be some logic to it. For it to have buttons like that, perhaps they were controls? And a device with no apparent moving parts must have another function. Maybe it needed power. Maybe that’s why the creature was so depressed; his box had no power. Mompa might be able to help these giants after all. He put his arm up when their conversation seemed to be finished, not wishing to be rude.

“Erm… excuse me?” he asked. “I know how you can generate some power for that box.”

The two creatures looked blankly at him for a moment, then talked amongst themselves. The taller one was apparently not best pleased by Mompa’s suggestion, but the smaller one seemed to see promise in it. Eventually the smaller one stood up and said something. He seemed to understand.

“OK,” Mompa smiled. “Follow me!” He scurried through the door, and headed for his smaller, older shed. The creature struggled to exit his house, followed quickly. Mompa wasn’t surprised given the size of its legs.
He hurriedly unlocked the creaky old shed and put his lamp on the side bench. He moved out of the way and pointed at his steam engine, smiling. The creature looked at him, then followed his point. It cocked its head sideways curiously.

“It makes power!” Mompa said. “By burning things like these black rocks, and heating this water, steam turns this, and it can be used to power things!”

The creature obviously didn’t understand a word he’d just said, but nevertheless, he seemed to understand what the machine was just by looking at it.
Of course, Mompa thought, these beings probably found his contraption simple by comparison to some of their devices. Nevertheless, the creature patted him roughly on the head with its huge clawed hand, and ran back to the house enthusiastically.



“Hey sir,” Third called through the small door. “This little smelkar’s only gone and built a steam engine!”

“What?” First said, sitting upright.

“It’s pretty basic, looks like the first one these people have ever made,” Third told him. “But it could be modified, if they have tools we could use.”

“How are you going to power a device that uses electro-plasma conduits with a steam engine, Third?” First mocked.

“Where were you in basic field engineering class?” Third mimicked. “I can rip the thing to pieces; make it take any power we can find. If we had solar panels I could’ve used them.”

“You really think a first attempt by a bunch of mammals of all things could possibly power this transmitter?” First said.

“Not as it is, but give me a couple of days sir, I should be able to worm enough out of it to send of a short signal,” Third nodded. “Those fighter-based transmitters use a surprisingly small amount of energy considering what they do. I just hope this little guy has enough fuel for the sort of energy output I’ll need to get.”

“Just… do whatever you can,” First sighed. “If you don’t get anywhere with it, we start looking for an Imperium generator. Shame we stopped using battery powered weapons in favour of these plasma things.”

“Yeah, an old style G171 rifle would’ve had plenty of juice for that transmitter,” Third nodded. “They never thought of THAT in R&D.”

“What do you expect from a bunch of scientists,” First shrugged. “No field experience. Anyway. Get to work soldier.”

“Yes sir!” Third slammed his arm across his chest and headed outside.

*****

One of the last of the 2,000 year old Venerator-class ships, the GMS Ghargonica had a well-respected military record. Although this one had been drifting for quite some time in the depths of space after the Imperium vanished, her crew knew of her class from the legendary Venerator, and maintained her as diligently as the rebel ancestors had maintained the Venerator herself. Right now, she operated in shift mode.

Five of the brown ships could be seen in the distance. They were either unaware of them thanks to their shift generator, or ignoring them. Either way, the fact that there were three more than anticipated was worrying.

“Any idea where those extra ships came from?” Captain Hulak asked. He wasn’t asking anyone in particular, just… whoever had an answer.

“Well, if the auto-broadcast from the General’s ship is right,” the Tac Officer Jolos began. “Then they found the Kree underground. My guess is that they are in stasis… so it’s reasonable to assume that there could be other such installations. Maybe these Kree know where they are, and they’re waking them up systematically.”

“That could be bad,” Hulak said. “There could be billions of these ships hidden underground for all we know. We have to take them on now while they don’t have many ships.”

“Sir, there is no debris whatsoever in sector 8828,” Jolos said. “They completely obliterated one of our most advanced ships, and there’s no sign on any of those ships that any damage was done to them in the process. We’re going to need a lot of ships just to take on one of them, let alone five.”

“All the more reason to engage them while we still can outnumber them,” Hulak said. “Do we have any shift scouts on board?”

“Yes sir, there are two scout drones fitted with shift generators in hangar bay 1,” Jolos nodded.

“Launch one of them,” Hulak nodded. “Program it to follow the Kree in the same way we have been doing, and when we are within range again it is to automatically dock. As soon as it’s away, alter course. I don’t want to send any signals while we’re near those Kree ships, it could give away our position.”

“Yes Captain,” Jolos nodded, and began working his console.

The invisible ship pulled away from the alien vessels, and jumped out in a brilliant red explosion.

Third had been fiddling around in the rickety old shed for some time now. He'd only been out once to borrow First's plasma pistol. He said that 'these mammals don't have plasma welders, so I'm improvising'. First wasn't hopeful.

The small mamma had given him food, but it was disgusting. These things actually ate plantlife with their meat. And their meat wasn't particularly pleasant either.

He had a funny feeling in his gut today. He'd like to think it was the food this mammal had offered him, but he felt funny before then. None of the birds were singing, in fact he hadn't even seen a bird all morning. His father always said when they were hunting that creatures of the forest knew things, things that were going to happen.

Not these creatures though. The peculiar creatures were going about their business as usual. First found it fascinating to watch such creatures scrub pieces of cloth, or sow seeds. If those small boxes littered with junk were anything to go by, they even had some kind of rudimentary economy. It looked like some of them were exchanging small gold-coloured disks for tools and things.

He didn't pay them too much attention though. He took pleasure in the fact that the tiny creatures were afraid of him as he walked through their village on the way back to their 'dwelling'.

"Third!" he bellowed.

"Sir?" Third's voice came from the shed.

"Made any progress yet?"

"I think I've almost done it..." he said. "It'll probably blow after a few seconds, so you better plan exactly what you're going to say. Make sure you get the sector and the word 'rescue' in there."

"Well I wasn't going to tell them about my initiation," First sighed. "Tell me when you're ready."

There was a loud, metal-on-metal bang, a yell, and then a cheer.

"Done it," he said, emerging from the shed. His armour was dotted with black marks, as was his face. He'd snapped one of his claws with whatever the hell he was doing in there. First looked him up and down.

"Messy enough?" he asked.

"With the modifications I've made sir, you should get a few seconds of transmission," Third said, ignoring him. "I 'think' it'll reach the nearest relay station. If these creatures used higher quality metals I might be able to get a longer message out of it, but such as it is..."

"OK, is it all hooked up ready?"

"Yes sir," Third nodded. "I think..."

"You think?" First asked. Third looked past him, his eyes wide.

"Sir, if you're going to do it, now is the time," Third said quietly. First span around. In the distance, dozens of brown creatures were sprinting towards the village.

"Damn, are those the...?"

"Yes sir," Third nodded. He slapped his wrist and his helmet deployed, and he raised his plasma rifle. "For all the good it'll do."

"See if you can get these creatures to leave the village," First said. "Seems only fair, this one helped us after all."

"OK sir," Third nodded. As First entered the small shed, Third began walking through the village shouting as loud as he could. When he had everyone's attention, he pointed over at the brown morass.

When the small mammals saw them, they were all suitably scared. Third then shouted again and pointed in the opposite direction and fired his rifle into the air. It seemed to do the trick, and they all ran in that direction. Third ran back to the shed as soon as he heard an explosion. First emerged, his armour blackened.

"I didn't think it would explode while I was still IN THERE," First shouted. “I sent a message. It was short, but it should have put across my point.”

"Heh, well... I thought it would be more fun this way," Third grinned under his helmet. First deployed his own helmet, and nodded. "Let's go."

They ran in the same direction as the villagers.

*****

General Kelrod was fairly nervous. Giving the most powerful man in the entire Imperium bad news was usually the kind of job you'd pull the short straw to get, but he had to do it as quickly as possible. No time to pass the buck. He strode quickly down the centre of the Imperium Palace, his boots making loud thudding noises which reverberated around the marble-like room. When he reached the central throne he dropped do his knees, his knee plates tapping against the smooth rock surface. A large person sat there. For the most part a long black cloak with a hood hid his features. His clawed feet were visible, but that was all.

"General," a gruff voice said quietly. "Arise."

"Yes, Ghargon," Kelrod said, getting to his feet. "My lord, I have disturbing news."

"I trust General Grashnik has found the terralium mine?" Ghargon Gorbgan asked.

"Not exactly, my lord..." Kelrod sighed. "Sir, Grashnik is dead, the Hammer and Claw destroyed. The automated computer message it sent out before its core went critical suggests they found the Kree."

Gorbgan pulled the hood off his head, revealing his powerful jaws. He stood to his feet, a good head higher than any other Ghargonian, and snarled.

"What?" he bellowed.

"It is what the transmission suggested, at least," Kelrod said. "Captain Hulak of the Ghargonica has been tracking the ships responsible for Grashnik's demise, and he seems confident that they could be the Kree. They are finding reinforcements in stasis on several abandoned Imperium worlds, my lord -- we need to send reinforcements to assist the Ghargonica in destroying them now, while their numbers are small."

"Why was I not informed of this the moment you were aware of it?" Gorbgan asked, bearing his teeth.

"My lord... I didn't want to disturb you with this if I wasn't certain," Kelrod said.

"You are certain now?" Gorbgan asked.

"Yes, my lord," Kelrod nodded.

"Very well," Gorbgan said, calming his anger. "You may send 60 ships of your own choice, regardless of their duties. If they fail, you are to order the remainder of the fleet to report back to Ghargonia Prime. We will not lose the Imperium again to those... people."

"Yes my lord and, thank you," Kelrod nodded, bowing. He saluted to the Elite Guardians, turned, and left. 60 ships are a lot considering how thin the fleet is spread, he thought. I hope they are enough. We won't be able to try again.

OOC: Well written...

OOC: Now that's some rp. Very well written, with a good storyline. (no surprise tag)

OOC: Thanks for the praise... surprised though I am.

The lizard people seemed anxious about something. They talked quickly and quietly, jerking quickly as though they were wildercats being hunted by carnivores. Mompa found it hard to believe anything could frighten one of them. Even a frekar beast would think twice about trying to attack one of these colossal metal giants. But one of them had put it’s metal head back on and was clutching the black stick quite tightly.

The taller lizard went into the shed, probably to do whatever it was their box did with his steam engine. He was quite proud that he could have helped them, and it certainly proved that there was some potential in it. He was eager to see what modifications they had made to his prototype.

The shorter one left the shed, though, and walked to the centre of the village. It bellowed something in its own language, then pointed one of its muscular arms in the direction of the haunted caves.

Mompa followed his aim, and his mouth dropped. Those were demons. Long, thin legs, so long they were bent backwards almost to a 90 degree angle. An anvil-shaped head, no visible features except for their mouths, long, sharp-pointed arms which were tucked into their bodies and aimed forwards, as though they were charging at something – it was all pretty demon-like. Their deep brown colour made some of them hard to see when they moved through a patch of mud. There must have been two dozen of them at least, running at a surprising speed towards the village.

Impatient, the lizard roared again, and pointed in the opposite direction to the demons. When nobody responded, he pointed his stick into the air and the end of it exploded, sending a ball of blue fire into the heavens. The loud boom it made was enough for Mompa to understand what he wanted. Time to run. The other villagers, although they had been very paranoid about their new visitors, didn’t seem to question the logic of his stick, and started running into the forest. Mompa looked back at the horde of brown, and agreed with them. He turned and ran as fast as his old legs could carry him, trying to stick with the other villagers.

He heard an explosion, and looked back. His steam engine had apparently blown up. They must have been pushing it too hard, though they didn’t seem to care now. The taller one put its own metal head on and the two lizards began sprinting, following the villagers.



“You say a plasma rifle didn’t kill one of them things?” First asked, ducking beneath branches and jumping over logs as they sprinted through the forest. Their boots made a muffled thud on the dirt ground as they slammed them down as fast as they could.
He could hear their high-pitched cries. He wasn’t sure if they were as eager for battle as a Gerash, or just hungry. Or maybe both.

“Yeah,” Third shouted. “I shot it clean in the chest at least five times. It fell down, but it got back up again as though nothing had happened.”

“Well that should slow them down at least,” First said, glancing back at the Kree. They were fast for skinny, overgrown bugs. A Ghargonian could run pretty fast, maybe 40kph on average. But they couldn’t seem to outrun these bugs. He was also surprised at how fast the mammals were running, as they were keeping well ahead of First and Third. Natural speed for prey, he supposed.

“You have a plan sir?” Third asked. “We can’t run like this forever. Even if we could, they’ll catch us in a few minutes anyway.”

“I’m not sure yet,” First said. “Let’s see what develops.”

“Hey, I wonder if they can climb trees?” Third asked nobody in particular. “They don’t have any hands, and their feet are just flat circles…”

Third stopped running as he grabbed a thick branch. He used his momentum to swing up onto the branch, balancing himself. He started climbing up the tree. First roared as loud as he could, hoping the villagers would look back and see what they were doing, then he jumped up and started climbing as well.

Within a matter of seconds, the Kree were on their position. They stopped, jerking their heads around. One of them craned its neck and roared when it saw them. They all began leaping straight up into the air, snapping their jaws as they got near. Third almost fell out of the tree when he saw how high they could leap, and quickly scrambled a few branches higher.
First didn’t like that idea. One of the Kree almost bit him, and he unleashed a rapid-fire plasma burst into the bug’s chest. It flew backwards, slamming into another tree twenty metres or so away. It fell to the ground, but quickly got to its feet and joined the other Kree as though nothing had happened.

After a while, they stopped leaping. One of them tried climbing the tree, using its sharp arms to dig into the wood, but as soon as it’s legs left the ground it couldn’t hold on, and fell to its back.

“Looks like we’re safe for now,” Third said, retracting his helmet.

“Yeah, safe,” First snorted. “So, what do you propose we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Third shrugged. “Wait for help? You sent a message, right?”

“I might have done,” First said. “Depends how good your DIY was. Or if those Kree ships destroyed the nearest relay station.”

First turned his head. The mammals had copied them by climbing into the trees, but the Kree didn’t seem particularly bothered by them. Every last one of them stood at the bottom of the Ghargonian-inhabited tree, gazing up at them blankly. They had stopped moving altogether now, and just… stared at them. The most unnerving thing about that of all was that they didn’t seem to have any eyes.

“Ugly little freks, aren’t they?” Third said. He aimed his rifle and fired a few plasma bursts at one of them. It was slammed into the ground by the force of the impact, and slid through the dirt until it hit a tree trunk. It lay motionless for a few seconds, but then jumped up and moved back to where it had been waiting, screaming angrily at Third..

“Ugly but tough,” First said. “We need a plan if we’re going to get out of here.”

“Maybe they know something…” Third said. First looked around, not bothering to dismiss it so casually. One of the villagers pointed at something out of their view, and another one nodded and said something in response. Their language was quaint. It would have been amusing at any other time. High-pitched, full of strange squeaking sounds. But it seemed to be effective for them.

The villager nodded, and jumped to another branch. Carefully, he grabbed a vine and swung over to the Ghargonian’s tree. He leaned close to First, almost falling out of the tree when First snapped at him with his powerful jaws.

“Reekle poplar tong tang milka!” the mammal said excitedly. Frustrated, he pointed, and gestured for them to come with him. “Refle la monka toop!”

“I think maybe they have another miracle up their sleeves,” Third shrugged. The two reptiles followed the small mammal to the next tree. The Kree followed their shadows along the ground carefully, making clicking noises and occasionally snapping at each other as they went. They seemed almost docile at the moment, but their gleaming, razor-sharp silver teeth looked even more menacing than that of a Ghargonian. Neither First nor Third had any overwhelming desire to pet them, at any rate.

First followed the aim of the stick-thin arm as the creature pointed at something. The other villagers were slowly backing as far away from the two troopers as they could. Apart from anything else, the branches bent heavily under their substantial weight, and it was a long drop to the ground.

“What is it pointing at?” First grumbled, sheltering his eyes from the sun as he squinted to find anything of interest. There was a clearing in the forest just a hundred metres or so away from them. A large mound covered in grass filled the space, but he couldn’t see anything that was worth clambering around in the foliage for.

The older mammal that had helped them before tapped Third on the shoulder. Third looked down to see its hands together. When Third was looking, the creature then parted them outwards… like a door opening?

“A… a door?” Third asked. The creature waved its arms around, clueless. Third looked back at the grassy knoll. He clambered across some branches and leaned forwards, dangerously close to falling. There was something poking out from under the grass. Something metal? Glass? He couldn’t tell from here.

“Sir, I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, swinging to the opposite tree.

“Have fun,” First shrugged. “Make sure you remember the vicious, indestructible killing machines just a few feet below you.”

“I have no intention of forgetting,” Third shouted, waving his arms around as he almost fell from his new perch. He gained his balance and moved across that tree to another, approaching the clearing carefully. Half the Kree were following him along the ground, still gazing up at him as though he were a god or something. The other half were still around First’s tree, staring up at him. They seemed to be ignoring the mammals completely.

As he rounded the other side of the clearing, he grinned widely, his teeth gleaming in the harsh sunlight. It was a door. A metal door. And what looked like an Imperium-standard control panel beside it. He clicked his short-range radio on, holding it up to his mouth.

“Sir, those smelkars have done it again,” Third said. “It’s an Imperium door. Could be a back entrance to that mine we were looking for, or an outpost or something. I think it’s still functioning.”

“Is it in the trees?” First’s voice came through the device. In the distance First could be seen glaring in Third’s direction.

“No… no, it’s on the ground,” Third said. “I don’t see any alternative though, sir. Those Kree are going to get bored of waiting eventually.”

He glanced down. A few of them were digging at the ground violently. When one of them kicked up dirt into another’s face, it sparked a vicious fight. But when they lost interest in that they both emerged unscathed and gazed back up at Third again.

“Well, I’ll come around there,” First said. “Better to be in a tree near a door than any other tree I suppose.”

Third waited patiently, aiming his rifle at the Kree cautiously. He looked up when he saw some more Kree arrive in the clearing. First landed on the branch next to him, closely followed by three dozen mammals spread out over several trees.

“Sir…” Third began.

“What?”

“It’s just a thought, but…” he stopped, looking at some of the mammals, then looking at the Kree. “Have you noticed how those ugly freks don’t seem to be paying any attention to the mammals?”

“Why would they?” First snorted. “We’re the biggest threat here. It’s obvious to them.”

“Maybe… but…”

Third gestured at all the villagers. He made a ‘climbing down’ motion, with his arms, pretending to climb down a tree. Then he stopped and made a quick ‘climbing up’ motion. He hoped they understood, and hoped that at least one of them had the guts to…
A male – or what he assumed was a male, anyway – nodded enthusiastically, then cautiously started edging his way down the trunk of the tree. He didn’t take his eye of the brown creatures once, but by the same token… they didn’t seem to notice him getting close to him either.

“Sir, either these Kree don’t think the mammals are a threat,” Third said. “Or they can’t even see them. Or they just couldn’t give a damn. Either way, it looks like they could come in handy again.”

“Feh, luck,” First snarled, glaring at the remaining mammals then looking back down at the brave one.

The mammal was on the floor now, sneaking carefully around the crowd of creatures. He was visibly terrified, but he was surprisingly determined. He reached the door, waving his arms around in triumph.

“Now how do you think it’s going to open the door, genius?” First laughed.

“Like that…” Third nodded. The creature had been pressing buttons randomly on the control panel until the door bleeped and slid open. The harsh scraping sounds of the ancient door mechanism seemed to agitate the Kree. Some of them rubbed their heads on the ground until it stopped.
When it did stop, a few of them started hopping towards the door. The humanoid stayed completely still, looking at the Kree cautiously. One of them was almost face to face with the villager before it gave up and turned back towards the other Kree.

“He’s either frekking brave, or frekking stupid,” First laughed. The mammal relaxed and started slowly walking through the open door. “Now, how do we get down there?”

“We should get the other mammals in there first,” Third said. “I have a feeling we’ll be shutting that door as soon as we hit the metal floor plates.”

He looked back at the mammals, who seemed to be fascinated by them now. He nodded down at the door, pointing. They nodded, and one by one, they carefully climbed down the tree and went through the dark entrance.

“How many plasma rounds do you have left?” First asked as soon as the last mammal stepped through the door.

“Um…” Third peered at his rifle’s readout then looked in his sack. “Five rounds left in this cell, and a full cell in my sack. Why?”

“I’ve got two full cells,” First said. “Do you fancy shooting wildly into a crowd of deadly aliens, hoping they all fall over long enough for us to run through that door and close it?”

“Not really,” Third shook his head. He took the nearly-empty cell from his rifle and slotted the new one in. “But I’ll give it a go.” They both nodded, and turned to face the trunk of the tree. They held their rifles ready to fire.

“Ready?” First asked.

“No, but let’s do this anyway,” Third said.

The two mighty lizards pushed away from the tree as hard as they could, launching a good six feet into the air. They let rip their plasma rifles on rapid-fire mode, gunning the Kree down as fast as they could get up as the two Ghargonians soared in the direction of the doorway. Third screamed an ancient battle cry madly, slamming into the ground and rolling backwards. He kneeled down beside the entrance, laying down suppressive fire as First jogged into the building. It was like spraying a pressure hose into a crowd; as soon as one Kree stood up, Third gunned it back down to the floor again. As soon as First kneeled down inside the doorway and started firing, Third stood up and backed inside as well.

“Where’s the control?!” First shouted. A Kree jumped at them, only to be projected into the air by a direct hit to the head. It span around, flying upwards until it hit a tree, and was left dangling from one of the branches.

“I don’t… ah, here!” Third shouted. He slammed his fist against a button marked ‘emergency containment’. The door started sliding shut. They fired until the gap was too small for a plasma bolt to pass through, and the door clunked to a stop.

The Kree on the other side started screaming wildly, slamming into the metal barrier as hard as they could. It was likely solid terralium though, and it didn’t even wobble under their attack.

Third and first sat on the floor, leaning against the walls, panting.

“Man, those things built ships?” Third sighed. “They sure don’t act smart.”

“They’ll either pound that door down, dig through the roof or find another way around eventually,” First said, standing up. “Let’s keep moving. We might find something helpful in here.”

“OK,” Third nodded. They started walking down a sparse corridor, looking around. It was dimly lit with red emergency lights, but it was hard to see. The villagers came out of their hiding places in the nooks in the walls, and quietly followed the two Ghargonians as they made their way into the Imperium base.

Sixty Ghargonian battleships flew in combat formation, blocking out the stars with their colossal size. Their engines glowed fierce red as they slowly pushed the combat fleet forwards.

Streams of small fighters poured from every hangar on every ship. Like a cloud of insects they weaved across the black of space towards seven brown vessels.
The vessels simply hung in space, not making any effort to move or retaliate as the fighters started pounding their hulls with various types of energy weapons and missiles.

As soon as the fighters had completed their pass and were clear, the massive main guns of the main fleet began blasting the ships. All their weapons were focussed on a single Kree vessel, and it was engulfed with the blue plasma explosions. Missiles zipped through the hail of fire, impacting on its surface.

But it didn’t mind. It didn’t even move. Sixty heavy battleships were opening up with enough weaponry to liquidise the surface of a planet in a matter of minutes, and it wasn’t even wobbling. No sign of energy shielding, no sign of any complicated hull armour. Just a featureless, impenetrable brown hull.



“Captain, our weapons are having no effect,” Jolos looked back, shrugging in despair.

“Order the fighters on a second pass,” Hulak shouted. “Reload missile turrets 1 – 10, recharge the main guns.”

“For all the good it’ll do, aye sir,” Jolos nodded.

Hulak glared out the window. Why weren’t they doing anything? Why were they just sitting there? Are we so inconsequential that you don’t even care?

“New contacts sir!” Jolos shouted as loud klaxons suddenly blared. Hulak pulled down the tactical display screen mounted above his chair, and his eyes widened. Another ten identical ships had just appeared, probably through similar artificial singularities as the Ghargonian ships used. They were moving to flank the fleet, while the original seven ships slowly turned and moved forwards.

“For the love of Krak…” Hulak muttered. Another five appeared behind the fleet, and two more to the other flank. They were being surrounded. “Order all battleships to take evasive action NOW! Call those fighters off their run, get them covering us!”

“Sir!" Jolos shouted, working with a little more enthusiasm.



Most of the Kree ships were there more for effect and containment than any tactical reason. On either flank, a single Kree ship began pounding through the Ghargonian ships, tearing them to shreds in just a few shots. Their yellow energy pulses were rapid, but to the naked eye they didn’t seem to be all that powerful. They looked almost like mini-suns, with a very bright centre and a glowing ‘corona’. Regardless, the battleships collapsed in on themselves like card houses as the relentless fire cut through their lines. On some ships escape pods tried launching but they were consumed before they even cleared their docking ports.



“Sir, we’re losing ships at a rate of one per second!” Jelos cried. “They’re wiping out the fleet from the flanks in!”

The communication speakers bleeped, and a gruff voice cut through the commotion on the control deck. “I’m not going out like this!” one of the captains shouted. “For the Ghargon!”

“Sir, the GMS Illvanu is on a collision course for one of the Kree ships,” Jolos announced. Through the port window, one of the huge battleships could be seen accelerating to full sublight speed, aiming directly for one of the incoming ships. Jolos flew from his chair as shockwaves from exploding battleships ripped through the Ghargonica, overloading consoles and electro-plasma conduits.

Hulak blocked it all out, watching intently. Somehow, none of the Kree’s energy blasts were hitting the Illvanu. It was perfectly on course…

“Die with honour, my friend,” Hulak said. The Illvanu slammed into the Kree ship at full thrust, the shock from that alone tearing down her main spinal support, sending hull plates flying. But this time, the Kree ship seemed to notice. One of its blade wings was torn clean off, and then a flash of white light blinded everyone.

Hulak flew from his chair as the blast wave literally knocked the Ghargonica sideways. When the flash subsided, the Illvanu was nowhere to be seen. But neither was the Kree ship.

Jolos struggled to pull himself back up to his seat, and pressed some buttons.

“Sir, other surviving ships are making runs for Kree vessels,” Jolos said quietly.

The Kree had lost their temper though, it seemed. As soon as the Kree ship was destroyed, all the others suddenly rammed into full speed. They were surprisingly manoeuvrable considering they must have been a thousand metres long. They toyed with battleships on collision courses, playing chicken with them. As they pulled up, yellow energy blasts slammed into their targets, destroying them without a second thought.

“Should we ram them too, sir?” Jolos asked.

“No,” Hulak shook his head. “Engage shift mode and jump out, any heading. Once we’re clear with the photonic jump drive, establish a hole back to Ghargonia Prime. The General’s orders were for all ships to fall back if our mission was not successful. We’re more use there than here.”



The Ghargonica, heavily damaged just from the shockwaves of her fellow ships, was engulfed with red light as she sped away from the battlefield, disappearing into the blackness of space. The Kree ships had finished playing with the other fifty-nine ships, and they turned in the direction the Ghargonica had headed. But, as though sad that their playmate had left, they turned away again, and entered a loose formation with the other ships. They cruised slowly away.

General Kelrod turned, and immediately dropped to his knees when Ghargon Gorbgan walked through the door. As was traditional with non-military personnel, Gorbgan wore few clothes. A mammal habit that had not taken with the Ghargonians at any point in their millions of years of civilisation. He wore a Roman-like cloth around his waist, held firm with a tough leather belt, but otherwise his scaled skin and rippling muscles were in the open air. The Ghargon didn’t need to wear any identifying marks; only the strongest could lead. A short Ghargon was undocumented, and his strength outmatched that of even a female. He could even hurl a Gerash across the room. His presence was awe-inspiring and unmistakable.

“My lord,” Kelrod said, bowing his head. “I did not know you were present in the head quarters.”

“There are reports of a large flash being seen in deep space,” Gorbgan growled. “My scientists tell me that it must have been an explosion. An explosion so large it could have been seen by a powerful enough array on the other side of the galaxy. Would you care to explain how five Kree ships created an explosion this large?”

“Yes… my lord,” Kelrod sighed, standing up. “Fifty-nine out of the sixty ships in the fleet have been destroyed. They managed to destroy one Kree vessel, however.”

“How was this accomplished General?” Gorbgan asked in a low growl.

“A… collision,” Kelrod shook his head in dismay. “When the battle first commenced, my lord, all sixty ships and their entire fighter complement concentrated all their potential firepower on a single Kree vessel, and there was no sign of even slight damage. And they have many ships now, my lord. We fear there could be even more elsewhere that we have not yet encountered.”

“How many ships remain?” the Ghargon asked calmly.

“We still have 121 Venerator-class battleships, with 56 of those being 2,000 year-old originals,” the General said, reading from a screen. “As well as 78 of the newer Kraken-class battlecruisers. Other than that, we have a few hundred gunships, a couple of cruisers, and a few thousand fighters. Our orbital defences are still several years away from completion.”

“Recall them all, General,” Gorbgan said. “I vowed not to be as weak as the fools who opposed our ancestors. We will NOT lose the Imperium again. If it looks as though we are, my last duty as Ghargon will be to decapitate you as slowly as is possible.”

“Y-y-yes, my lord,” the General gulped. “I will do my best.”

Gorbgan shoved a Gerash guardian out of the way roughly and stormed out of the room. Kelrod rubbed his snout nervously, and began planning a defence for Ghargonia Prime.

OOC: I'm guessing at this juncture that I can finish it by my lonesome. I don't mind, I just like expanding on the Ghargonians universe.

OOC: I hate bumping. So I'll use the post to say I'm going to bed. So no new additions for a while.

A pair of destroyers and a carrier came out of a hyperspace gate on the far side of the planet.

"Chieftan! FarJump succesful!"
The aged orc shaman looked up from his fur-covered chair.
"Excellent. Begin launching pods. The WarChief wants that mining colony."

Third dug his claws behind the metal plate and tugged at it. It screeched in protest, but with his full body weight he managed to push the door open. First stood behind him, aiming his plasma rifle into the dim room. Stepping through cautiously, he checked all around and then waved when he was confident it was clear.

Third stepped in, similarly cautious, looking around. It was a large room, two levels. A mesh-plate bridge crossed a central chamber, littered with dead consoles and monitors. First pointed at the master controls on the upper level at the far side of the bridge. A single light was glowing white on one of the consoles.

Treading carefully in the dull red light, they rounded the central chamber and made their way over to the console. Their metal boots on the metal floor plates made light clanging noises as they went, but other than that and the rapid breathing of the mammals outside the door, there was no noise at all from the entire facility.

"Master console?" Third asked.

"Seems like it," First nodded.

"You think this place still has enough juice to boot up?" he asked.

"These generators can go on for millennia," First shrugged. He reached down and pressed the glowing button with a clawed finger.

At first, all that accomplished was shutting off all the lights. Distant clunking sounds, whirrs, buzzing noises and metal clangs. Lights slowly came on to full power, one after the other. Consoles lit up, a couple down in the central chamber exploded, sending shards of glass and plastacrete everywhere.

"It still has enough juice to boot up," Third nodded as his helmet retracted. He was half expecting a Kree to burst out from the wall or something with all the humming noises, but in reality it wasn't much louder in here than any other base.

"Let's see what we can see," First said quietly, picking up the fallen stool and taking a seat in front of the console. He wiped dust from the monitor and started pressing buttons. "Armoury, laboratories, hangar... hey look, mining equipment. Ah, security systems."

"What class of base was this?" Third asked.

"Woah, if these security readouts are anything to go by," First pointed at the monitor. "Looks like a class 1. They were doing something important here I think."

"Can you switch them on?" Third asked. "I know the turrets won't be much use other than knocking them over, but perimeter alarms, repulsor fields etc might be useful."

"Let's see..." First trailed off, pressing some more buttons. Red lights on the walls started flashing, a klaxon went off, and the computer said something garbled through the one remaining speaker in the room. "There, security systems online."



Outside, in the grassy clearing, the grass on top of the mound started to rise. The thin soil tore apart as two large plasma turrets were deployed above the door. Their alarms wailed, and then they jerked downwards and started pounding the Kree who were waiting at the door. The balls of plasma slammed into them so hard they were actually embedded in the moist ground. One of them screamed as its neck hit against a rock so hard its head came clean off, and the others scurried away. The headless body writhed around on the floor for a few minutes, even managing to get up, and then finally fell to the ground, limp.
At the same time, the door flickered red as a repulsor field was deployed.



"Sounds like the computer could use a reformat," First said after the voice stopped blurting out random words over the intercom system.

"Do we have a communications array... or sensors?" Third asked.

"No," First shook his head. "It looks like the entire southern complex has been destroyed. Computer says that's where the comm tower and sensor array were. And the entrance to the mine. Looks like a massive underground unrefined terralium explosion..."

"Oh, great," Third nodded, waving his arms in frustration. "So all this was for nothing anyway."

"I think they did it on purpose," First said, pointing at the screen. "The log says the self-destruct systems of the base were damaged, and the computer detected weapons fire and 'unknown lifeforms'."

"Sounds like a last stand to me," Third said, reading the log. "Well, what do we do now?"

"Well, most of the base is underground," First said. "That's why we couldn't find it. There are only a few entrance points still clear, like that door we used to get in. There have been a few cave-ins in some of the corridors, but apart from the Southern section it looks remarkably intact. We should be safe from the Kree here for a while at least. I'd like to head to section 2, take a look around."

He put a clawed finger on a wireframe map. In red Ghargonian text, 'Armoury' and 'Labs 1-3' were written over a series of rooms in that section.

"I wonder if have any G171s in there," Third pondered.

"Let's go find out," First nodded, and led the way back out. The door opened for them automatically this time, which Third was thankful for.

"You lot, stay in there," First said sternly to the crowd of mammals, and gestured through the open doorway. "Safe." They looked at each other and shrugged, filing into the command centre.

"You realise if they start touching things in there that they could end up locking a turret onto us or something, right?" Third asked.

"Let's hope they're afraid of buttons," First shrugged. He looked down either end of the now-lit corridor, and pointed to his right. "This way."



First stopped by a doorway. He reached up and rubbed the dirt off a panel. It read 'Laboratory 1'.

"Found it!" he shouted. Third came wandering over, stopping near him.

"Looks like it uses genetic verification," Third said, pointing at a small, finger-shaped hole in the wall.

"I don't think either of us will have clearance, what with not even being born when it was built," First shook his head.

"I don't know," Third shrugged. "Maybe one of our great, great, great, great, great grandparents worked here." He squeezed his finger into the slot until the tip of his claw hit the end. Two needles suddenly poked into each side of his finger, and another into the bottom. They remained their for a couple of seconds, then retracted. Third pulled his finger out, waving his hand.

"Access denied," the computer said in a menacing voice.

"Like I said," First snorted. "I don't think either of us will have clearance. I wonder if this can be opened from the control room..."

Third shoved him to one side, took a step back and blasted the genetic verification unit with his plasma rifle. It ripped a hole in the wall, sent sparks flying, and the door clunked.

"Or we could shoot it," First shrugged. He grabbed hold of the edge of the door now visible through the hole, and pulled it open.

They were presented by a small, long room lit with a green-white light strip. Two Ghargonian skeletons were propped up against the opposite corner, with an ancient particle pistol just below one of the clawed hands. A white central workbench ran down the middle of the room, with black consoles built into its surface. They stepped inside and Third jerked his rifle up, almost having a heart attack.
Two transparent tubes, apparently built-into the ceiling and floor, resided at the far end of the room. Inside, floating peacefully in the water, were two dead Kree.

"Now THAT'S not a nice trick," Third protested, lowering his weapon.

"Calm down," First said, patting his shoulders. "They look dead. I wonder how..."

"It's been a couple of millennia for them," Third shrugged. "I don't know, maybe... I know, they died of old age?"

"And you think that living Kree let themselves be put into those containers, do you?" First mocked. "They're not exactly friendly. Let's see what these unlucky guys were working on."

First started accessing consoles, while Third strolled over to the end of the room. He pressed his snout against the tube, glaring at the head of the Kree.

"They never were very attractive," he snorted. "No scales, a flat face, and what's up with those arms? Ugly freks..."

"'Cause of death: sonic shock overload'," First read from the screen. "They were 'noised' to death."

"Is that even a word?" Third asked, wandering over to him.

"Apparently they were working on ways to defeat the Kree," First said. "But the Kree found this place before they were ready for them." He scrolled the text down. "Says that they modified an existing sonic concussion rifle specifically to the frequency that overloaded the Kree's sensory systems..."

"You can die from noise?" Third snorted.

"Makes sense I suppose," First shrugged, remembering how agitated the Kree got when the mammal opened the outer door to the base. "Apparently nothing else they tried worked. Lasers, plasma weapons, particle blasters, your typical explosives -- they even managed to survive a battleship-level turret being shot at them. Resistant to extremes of hot and cold, vacuums... you name it. They only found two ways of killing them; raw kinetic force, and sensory overloads."

"Do they have any of those rifles here?" Third asked.

"Doesn't say," First said, shutting the console off. "If they do, though, I can only think of one place they'd keep them."



They stopped outside the door marked 'armoury'. First started looking for a control panel, only to hear a plasma rifle blast the door open.

"You're going to get into bad habits," First said, stepping through the hole in the door. HE reached for an illuminated panel on the wall, and pressed the central button. Lights came on, revealing a long room lined with various types of rifles, pistols, heavy weapons, grenades, armour... the works.

"Cool," Third said, stepping through the door. He picked up a nearby rifle. "This is one of those themal projectile guns! I saw one in a museum once."

"I thought this was a museum," First said, looking around. "Any idea what a sonic concussion rifle looks like?"

"I think the police use them sometimes," Third said. "Normally they're used to stun people. I think they look like..."

He trailed off, walking alongside the rifle racks slowly.

"...ah, these." He picked one up and took it back to the door. He stepped through, aimed it down the corridor, and pulled the trigger. The air appeared to ripple, and their was a concussive booming noise, but no explosion or ray. He looked it over and stepped back into the armoury.

"Yep, this is the one," he nodded, handing it to First. "They only have an effective range of about fifteen metres though, so we're not going to be doing any Kree sniping with it. How can you tell if they've been modified or not?"

"Doesn't matter," First shook his head, tapping some buttons on the side of the rifle. "It isn't a complicated procedure; the complications only came from finding the right frequency to use. And a live Kree that would stand still long enough for them to test a few..."

The rifle bleeped, accepting the new information, and First handed it back to Third and picked up another one, pressing buttons on that one until it bleeped.

"OK," he nodded. "Grab a few plasma cells too, just in case these things are useless."

"I want to test out this thermal projectile rifle too," Third said, grabbing the weapon and a few clips. He stuffed them and a couple of plasma grenades into his sack, and shouldered all three rifles. He slotted a pistol into his disused holster too, and picked up one of the battle blades, attaching it to his belt so it dangled alongside his leg.

"Anyone would think we were going to wage war against an entire civilisation," First sighed, looking at him. He shouldered his plasma rifle and the concussion rifle, picked up a few cells for his rifle into his sack and they both headed back for the control room.



Leaning back in a chair, Third fiddled with the thermal projectile gun, seeing how the mechanism worked and how big the bullets were. He held it to his face, aiming it, and noticed one of the screens. He put the rifle down on the table, along with the rest of his 'haul', and walked over to it.

It was a security feed. It was showing an area near the same grass clearing they'd entered the base from, only it was just outside the range of the turrets. Three large, humanoid reptiles with bulky armour were being attacked by half a dozen Kree.

"Sir, didn't the General recall the drop pods?" Third shouted over his shoulder.

"That's what he said," First called back, getting to his feet. "Why?"

"Take a look," Third nodded at the screen. First came over and looked down at the monitor, which was just one of many on that wall. One of the reptiles on the screen picked up a Kree and threw it at a tree, then slammed a metal boot into the head of another Kree, dodging their spiked arms.

"Are those Gerash?" First squinted down at the console.

"I don't know anyone else who could throw one of those like that," Third shrugged. He stood up, walked over to the table and picked up the concussion rifle. "I'll go and let them in."

"Alright," First nodded. "Don't let any Kree in though."



Third jogged to the end of the corridor, and pressed the large button beside the thick door. The door whined in protest, but it slowly slid open. There was a red flicker as the repulsor field shut off, and Third ran outside. He could see them in the distance, near the first tree they'd climbed when they were being chased. He ran over, getting within the weapon's range, and dropped to his knee. Aiming carefully, he pulled the trigger. There was a loud boom, and one of the Kree flew to the ground, shaking violently. It didn't get up.

"Pretty damned cool," Third nodded. He opened his jaws to try and get rid of the popping sensation the boom had caused in his ears, and proceeded to shoot the two Kree that still remained. The three Gerash turned their large, vicious-looking heads, looking at Third with confused expressions on their faces.

"Our weapons useless," one of them grunted. "How you kill them?"

"Long story," Third said, then took a commanding pose. "Move inside, now, double-time!"

The Gerash slammed their powerful arms against their chest armour and jogged towards the open door. They were a good head higher than Third, but a good head stupider too. Third followed them in, making sure the door was shut behind them.

The sky burned as pods and orcish transports known as "zeppelins" came roaring through the atmosphere. The pods slammed into the ground with great force, several bursting open on impact and killing their occupants. The technology was obviously not very advanced. The zeppelins flew in more gracefully - that is, with the grace of a one-winged bird compared to the pods' brick-like entry. Only one of the bulbous transports crashed, however, and the majority of its occupants survived. The others began unloading their fares. The first out were heavily muscled and tusked with olive green skin. They wielded axes and clubs, with the occasional sword amongst them. They were adorned with a mix of fur clothes and plate mail made of a mysterious, glowing metal.
Next to arrive from the zeppelins and pods were a bovine species. Two legged and massive, these giant steers wielded tree-sized clubs and halberds. Their garb was quite different, being of mostly charms, loincloths, and slight armor plating. These dwarfed the the green skinned warriors, but seemed somwhat subservient to them.
Finally, a group of pointy-eared, blue skinned, diminuitive creatures with pointed faces and tusks similar to the green skins (but not as large) appeared. These creatures had hair on their head, most of them fashioned in a mohawk. They carried spears and primitive energy weapons.
Several of the green skinned brutes, who seemed to be the leaders due to their large swords and standards attatched to their backs, began screaming at the motley group of warriors.
"Alright, you lot! The WarChief wants that mining facility! Fan out, standard groups! First group to find it gets kodo meat!"
There was a roar of approval from the horde and they set out at a frenzied pace.
One of the groups, led by one of the standard-bearing warriors, began closing with the facility.

Mompa was still struck with awe at it all. These creatures were masters of technology. Some of the gadgets they were using made his steam engine look about as advanced as a stick. Doors that opened by themselves, lights that didn't require fire, seeing into other areas just by looking at a square on the wall...

None of the other villagers were feeling very talkative. They had, after all, just lost their village to a horde of demons. Mompa wasn't too concerned though, his inventions were the only thing he was bothered by and this was certainly an enlightening experience.

He was concerned though, that with all their power, the lizards couldn't stop the demons. He had watched their brief battle through the entrance to this technological dream world. Their weapons sounded ferocious, spewing blue fire at everything. But the demons just got up and came back for more...

He clutched the little dagger he kept in his belt. It wasn't much, and it probably wouldn't be any use against a demon with such power, but it was better than nothing.

He stood up, and looked at the large set of blinking lights in the wall behind him. Squares in the walls displayed a peculiar written language, glowing a fierce red and scrolling rapidly. Some had stick drawings of rooms and strange devices. Lots of buttons, similar to those on the box the lizards had been playing with earlier, twinkled like a multicoloured starscape.
He reached down and touched the black surface, avoiding any of the buttons. He rubbed it. It was cold and smooth, like metal only... it was perfectly smooth. No hammer marks, no fold creases. He would love to see the furnace they used to make this.
He stepped back nervously as all the lights suddenly switched to a blood red colour. It shouted at him, a blaring, repeating scream drilling through his skull. He turned to run to see what he had decided was the 'boss' lizard striding up to him. He placed his clawed hand against Mompa's chest and shoved him hard. Mompa felt his feet lift of the ground as he flew back into the wall. He fell to his knees, winded, and bowed his head in submission. He hoped the lizards knew of mercy. He wasn't sure what it was did, but that mechanical screaming suggested it wasn't good.



"What did it do?!" Third cried as he ran into the room. He'd taken the Gerash to the armoury to get some more weapons for them to use. He'd only just walked back into the control centre to see First standing over the small, elderly creature, snarling.

"I don't know," First growled. He glared down at the mammal, which cowered disgracefully on the floor. Third moved to the console and started tapping buttons quickly. The alarm stopped blaring, and he looked down for a second.

"Sir, it's a perimeter alarm," Third said quietly. "The mammal didn't do anything."

"Perimeter alarm? Where?"

"Section 34, level 5," Third read. "Probably just another cave-in."

"We've been over the assumptions thing," First snapped. "Take a Gerash and check it out."

"Yes sir," Third sighed. He walked up to a Gerash. Although the reptile towered above him, he still had to appear strong for the Gerash to follow him. "You, with me, now."

"I will fight, sir," the Gerash mumbled. He followed Third out of the room, slamming his boots down on the metal plating so hard that all the other metal plates in the room vibrated.

First looked down at the mammal, and held his hand down to help the creature up, as he had done when they first encountered it. The creature took it and First pulled him up, patting him on the shoulder roughly. He moved out of its way so it could join the others.

"Stupid creatures," he shook his head. The two remaining Gerash glared down at the group of mammals. They were probably hungry. He decided to distract them. "You!" he shouted. The Gerash shook its head, as though in a daze, and looked at First.

"Sir?" he replied.

"How did you end up on this planet?" First asked. "I thought your drop pods were recalled."

"Our pods not fast enough, they weren't," the Gerash said. "We see the ship explode and decide to land so the enemy vessels not see. Then creatures start attacking us, creatures resistant to weapons."

"They are the Kree," First told him. "The sonic concussion rifles the Third gave you will kill them, but at a short range."

"Killing good," the Gerash nodded. "Short range better than no range at all."

He turned to the other Gerash and they laughed, a slow, droaning laugh. First snorted. They didn't find much funny, what with having brains the size of nuts; but what they did find funny usually involved violence or explosions, or both.

Still, they may act like big lumbering oafs, but their tactical knowledge was almost as extensive as a Ghargonians', and their speed and strength was far superior. He felt much more comfortable having them around, even if they did start eating the mammals later on.



Third held his hand up, signalling the Gerash to stop. He backed up again. He pointed his snout down, and took advantage of the fact that his eyes were on the sides of his head by only poking the top of his head around the corner.

There were at least fifteen of them. Sunlight poured through the hole they'd made. They must have found an area of the base only slightly buried, and dug their way through. The turret in this corridor had been torn from its mount -- one of the Kree had impaled it on its arm, and didn't seem to notice that it was still there.

One of them was looking up, making strange clicking noises. The others took note, as though they were communicating, and crowded around the one making noises. They all started looking up. Slowly, their heads turned in the direction of Third's position.

He quickly jerked his head back behind the corner, readying his sonic rifle. The Kree roared, a bellowing sound that travelled down the corridor like a shockwave. He heard their feet, such as they were, tap against the metal as they slowly walked in their direction.

He turned to the Gerash and motioned that they should fall back. Quietly, they made their way around the previous corner, and hid there instead.

The first of the Kree reached where Third had been standing, and put its face on the metal plate. Sniffing? Maybe. It looked up in their direction, and seemed to grin, bearing is metal-like teeth. It screeched, attracting the attention of the others, who were sniffing in other places, and they started sprinting towards the two reptiles.

"Fall back," he shouted to the Gerash, who started running backwards down the corridor. Third ran up ahead of him and took a position behind an emergency bulkhead, ready to shut it as soon as the Gerash was through.

At the other end of the corridor, several Kree slid around the corner, slamming into the wall and increasing their pace when they could 'see' them.

The Gerash was just out of range of the sonic rifle, and he grabbed his plasma blaster instead. Gerash were much larger than Ghargonians, and as such, their standard issue assault rifle was a little larger. It was actually huge, the Ghargonian version of a minigun. Great big balls of plasma flew down the corridor, lighting the walls blue as they went, and slammed into the Kree, stopping them in their tracks. Whenever one of the balls missed, it slammed into the wall at the far end of the corridor, near the hole in the ceiling, leaving a huge black scorch mark on the metal wall. One ball hit a particularly weak area of the wall between two metal sheets, and they crumpled under the explosive force and flew off the wall. Circuitry underneath exploded, leaving wires hanging out of the wall. The lighting at that end of the corridor started flickering on and off, damaged.
One of the Kree managed to stay standing after one blast hit it in the chest, by pinning its arms through a gap in the floor plating. But the Gerash responded by turning all his attention on it. After a few shots, the lower halves of the Kree's arms snapped clean off and it flew back with the force of the blasts.

The Gerash kept running backwards, gunning down any Kree that made a run for him, and skidded to a halt behind the bulkhead's tracks. He bent down to one knee and braced the gun against his shoulder, firing a sustained blast down the corridor as Third slammed his palm against the emergency containment button. Red lights flashed and an alarm sounded as the emergency bulkhead slowly lowered to the ground.

Third stood against the wall, relieved, when the door finally shut and the Gerash stood upright again.

"Is this the only way in?" the Gerash asked. Ask them to solve a maths problem and they'd try to bite you, but a Gerash had a sound tactical mind.

"No," Third shook his head. "There are many corridors on many levels that all lead to many places. I don't know if we can close them all, even from the control centre."

"Then we must seal the control centre," the Gerash said.

A large, Kree-shaped dent appeared in the door as a loud bang filled the air. They were pounding the door from the other side, and showing a surprising amount of strength in the process.

"Let's go," Third nodded, and jogged down the corridor. More Kree began pouring through the large hole they'd torn into the top of the ancient base, clattering off down the network of metal corridors to find other ways to get at their reptilian targets.

Gorbgan looked at the monitor. He narrowed his yellow eyes, squinting, but shrugged.

“I see nothing,” he said.

“That is because there is nothing, sir,” Kelrod said. “Yesterday, two systems went blank. The Kree have been destroying our extreme-range automated sensor outposts. First they will blind us. Stories suggest that they will then begin destroying all our communications relay stations – already, in fact, we have lost contact with our outpost on the other side of the galaxy, Earth. Then they will start attacking the limited operative mines we have in the Core Worlds. And finally, they will come here. Ghargonia Prime. To complete the extermination.”

“You have made no progress in modifying our weapons to destroy their ships yet?” Gorbgan asked, standing upright.

“No, sir,” Kelrod said. “Our scientists have looked at the sensor data gathered by the Ghargonica and they have been unable to figure out what makes the Kree ships so resistant to attack. So far as they can tell, they have no energy shields. Their hulls don’t appear to have layered armour, thermal armour or any kind of visible armour. As sensors are unable to penetrate any deeper than the hull, they believe their ships are simply constructed of a very, very, very tough metal we have not yet encountered. As nobody has ever actually found a Kree homeworld in the millions of years our race has been capable of travelling in space, it is possible it is not even of this galaxy.”

“Nothing is indestructible, General,” Gorbgan told him calmly. “The Kree have a weakness, and you must find out what it is and decide how you may best exploit that weakness before they arrive here.”

“I have no greater desire than to ensure the survival of the Imperium,” Kelrod said, bowing. “If the Kree have a weakness, I will find it and they will regret the day they encountered our race.”

“I will hold you to that, General,” Gorbgan said quietly.

General Kelrod sighed in relief when the Ghargon left the command centre. Having your boss looking over your shoulder at every turn isn’t so comfortable, he’d found. Maybe he should go easier on his own subordinates. Now wasn’t the time though.

“Colonel,” he shouted over to one of the Ghargonians working at a console. “If you had to make an estimate on how long it would take for the Kree to arrive here, judging by Kree efficiency in destroying our sensor arrays, and how many targets we have left, what would you say?”

The Colonel’s snout went down as he closed his eyes, thinking. He looked up.

“Roughly five days,” he said solemnly. “Give or take.”

“That’s not much time to defeat an enemy that wiped out an 11,000 lightyear empire,” Kelrod said, his enthusiasm sagging. He snapped himself out of it though. “OK people, I want you back to analysing sensor data, any remote references to the Kree in Imperium archives, their battle tactics so far, anything and everything that could help find a solution. Let’s show them what they’re dealing with.”

"Blademaster! Gro'thall has found something!"
One of the green skinned orcs had his axe activated. The metal fed off of a small fusion power source, which caused it to vibrate at hypersonic speeds. Such technology allowed even the orcs' hand-to-hand weapons to be a threat to heavy armor.
The commander orc with the massive sword and standard attatched to his back leapt to his feet and jogged over.
"What did you find, Gro'thall?"
"Gro'thall has found entrance to ancient shrine! Could be commune place for shamans inside," answered the orc known as Gro'thall.
"Good job, Gro'thall. Extra honeywine for you. Alright, Cairne and Dusthoof! Get over here and make this hole bigger!"
Two of the minotaur-esque bovines clomped over and began pounding the ground with their clubs. The commander orc activated his vibroblade and stabbed down, aiding their efforts. After nearly an hour of this, a sizeable hole had been made in the metal barrier.
"Zul'jin, get in there."
One of the blueskins leapt in, instantly activating a small glowrod.
"It be interesting down here, Blademastah. Many buttons and switches. Old technology, quite valuable. WarChief will like dis."
"All of you, inside!"
The orcs, tauren, and trolls hopped down into the facility one-by-one. As they fanned out and searched for anything salvagable, they set off a distant proximity alarm...

((Ghargonia, if you want inter-nation RPing, now's your chance.))

First had his feet up on a dead console, sitting in a stool. He twirled a pistol on his clawed finger, bored. He hated waiting. He was a shock trooper because it wasn't in his nature to sit back and do nothing. Most Ghargonians opted for the officer ranks, leaving the Gerash to handle the tough stuff. But a few, like himself, joined up with the shock trooper division -- the specialist Ghargonian division of the army. Usually reserved for special operations. Though, like officers, they had full authority over the Gerash ranks. Perhaps more authority, as the Gerash respected warriors more than anybody else.
And as the name of his soldier class implied, he hated waiting.

When the master console suddenly started blaring again, he almost shot himself as he jumped to his feet. Stomping across the metal floor plating, he ran up the stairs and followed the railing to the console. He glared at the mammal, just in case, and jerked his head back to the console.

Perimeter alarm. Those Kree were persistent. Although, it was the same location as they had originally entered.

“Third!” he shouted. “I thought you sealed off that section! How did they get back in?”

“Sir, they’ve torn down all the emergency doors I put up,” he said as he walked up the stairs. “A few repulsor fields are working nearer the command centre, but for the most part they have the run of the entire facility.”

“None of the turrets in that entire quadrant are working,” First said, slamming his fist down on the console, leaving a dent. “Those damned things have torn them all to pieces.”

“Are the feeds working?” Third asked.

“I don’t know,” First said, tapping some buttons. “It’s possible. They might not have bothered with them – they don’t really draw much attention from the smartest of people.”

The screen flickered. For a moment, it looked like it wasn’t going to display anything more than static. But finally it held itself enough to display a picture. It was fuzzy and unstable, but it showed a dark corridor. Blast craters littered the walls, both from where the Gerash had shot it up earlier, and from the turret’s initial defence before it succumbed. The hole the Kree had torn in the roof of the base had grown somewhat, letting the setting sunlight pour inside.

“What are those?” Third asked, pointing at some silhouettes milling around below the hole.

“They’re not Kree,” First said after studying the moving characters. “Too big. Whatever they are, they’re armed.” He put a clawed finger against the screen. When the image was stable enough, Third could just make out some kind of melee weapon slung over one of the intruder’s shoulders.

“Pirates?” Third asked. The Imperium had a problem with alien looters. An empire, dead for thousands of years, can be a goldmine to some people. Their habits died hard, even when the empire rose from the dead. “Mercs? Invaders?”

“I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care,” First grunted. “We have enough problems already. Just… take care of it. One way or the other.”

Third reached down to his belt and yanked his battleblade. Twirling it around he finally rested its tip against the floor.

“You two, on me,” Third snapped, shouldering his two rifles. They nodded, picking up their rifles. “And don’t forget the Kree are still out there somewhere.” The Gerash looked at each other, and reached down for their sonar concussion rifles too, slinging them over their shoulders.

Third strode down the metal plates, stopping near the door. He entered a code into the panel next to it. There was a buzzing sound as the repulsor field shut off. He entered another code, and the door opened. The Gerash were already aiming their rifles out, carefully easing their way into the corridor, back to back.

“Clear sir,” one of them said, not taking his eye off the other end of the corridor.

Third nodded and stepped out.

“Back in a flash,” he said. He entered codes on the other side, and the door slid shut, flickering red as the repulsor field flashed back to life.



Having passed through the last sealed door, the small squad was fairly cautious. They could hear the distant tapping noises of Kree’s feet hitting metal flooring. The Gerash were calm, but alert, panning the area with their rifles cautiously. Third held his battleblade in his left hand, and his sonic rifle in the other. First had said that kinetic energy worked against them, so he was eager to attempt cutting one in half with a pure terralium blade.

He nodded to one of the Gerash, gesturing at the partially destroyed doorway up ahead of them. The Gerash nodded and jogged up ahead, taking a position behind the door, but looking through the hole. Definite Kree activity in this area, judging from the way that door had literally been torn apart. These emergency bulkheads were more for containment of fires or gas leaks than stopping animals; they weren’t made of particularly strong metals. The Kree had apparently made short work of them. Closer to the control centre the emergency doors were more like blast doors, thick sheets of terralium with added protection from energy fields. Nothing like that in the outer areas.

Third and the other Gerash reached the door. The two Gerash took positions on either side of the hole, poking their rifles out, as Third stepped through cautiously. He snorted reluctantly in the dark area, and deployed his helmet. The glowing green eyes shifted to night vision, allowing him to see better. The lights in this section were offline, so it was pretty dim.

He span around as he heard a screech. A single Kree had been digging around in what appeared to be crew quarters, and it had spotted him. It leapt into the air, roaring at him. Third, quite surprised, stepped back quickly and swung his blade at the creature as it passed in front of him. A healthy slicing noise reassured Third, and the Kree hit the ground in two pieces. Its legs were now separate from his body. It didn’t seem too bothered though, and it started digging its spiked arms into the cracks between floor plates to drag itself towards Third. It was pissed, screaming and roaring in random pitches at him.

“Shut up,” he said, and a concussive thumping noise deafened everyone as he shot the legless creature. He looked back at the Gerash and nodded.



They reached the same corner Third had hid behind before. He looked around the corner. Nothing there. It was dark outside now, so he couldn’t shut off his helmet without losing his ability to see – all the electrics in this section seemed to be down. A Gerash jumped, slamming hard into the metal plating, hard enough to send a rippling shockwave down the remaining floor plates down the corridor. He completed the position-revealing noise by firing a few shots down the corridor. As the balls of plasma flew down the corridor, they illuminated the walls, the floor, the ceiling and anything else that happened to be in there. They really were smarter than Third gave them credit for; he was using his rifle as a light flare. But there was nothing to be revealed.

Third sighed, and clicked on his helmet’s intercom.

“Sir, I’ve got nothing,” Third said. “Are you tracking them?”

“Looked like they were fanning out, searching for something,” First’s voice said. “But then the circuitry in that area overloaded. I’m as blind as you should be.”

“Yeah, it is pretty dark down here,” he said. Walking to a point underneath the hole, he clicked on the flashlight at the end of his plasma rifle. He shut off his helmet and lit up the edges of the hole with the light, inspecting it. Blade marks?

“Definitely something new down here sir,” he said. “I think I can see blade marks, or some kind of tool marks. Looks like someone needed a little more room to get in here.”

“See if you can find them,” First said. “If they’re intelligent enough to reason with, see if you can explain the threat on this planet. Otherwise, ‘explain’ how trespassing on Imperium property is not advisable.”

“Sir,” he said, re-deploying his helmet. The Gerash didn’t have helmets, but they didn’t really need them. Between their improved eyesight and hearing, they were perfectly happy in the dark. Third looked back at them. “Come on you two.”



They were in a powered area of the base now, and Third had shut off his helmet again. He was about to give up the search and head back for safety – relatively speaking, anyway – when he heard something. He stopped dead in his tracks, raising a hand to signal the Gerash to do likewise.
Another noise. A Kree? Several Kree? With shoes on? The unknown intruders, then? He glanced down the corridor. There were definitely some ‘things’ down there. They seemed to be busy doing something, but he couldn’t make out enough details to be sure. He looked at a Gerash. The brute nodded and took his place by the corner, peering just the top of his head around to look down the corridor. He took a long look, then backed away.

“Not Kree,” the Gerash grunted quietly. Third nodded, and gestured with his hands.

Third span around the corner and dropped to one knee. His plasma rifle aimed down the corridor, he held his bulky arm in the air. A Gerash dropped to his knee right next to him, the butt of his rifle against his neck as he aimed his own bulky rifle down there. They didn’t fire though. The other Gerash hung back out of sight, just in case.

“Kekar!” Third bellowed, though he spoke in Ghargonian. Not many species these days knew the tongue, what with it supposedly being a dead language until recently. His growling tone wasn’t threatening, but it was firm. “Reekula Ghargant Matelia mak tenak shika!”

He kept his arm high above his head. It could go any way. The intruders could shout back, enough perhaps for the translation computer he was carrying to pick up enough grammar to start a matrix. The intruders could be hostile, and they’d have a firefight on their hands. Or they could be Kree after all, and they’d have to start running very fast in the opposite direction. They’d find out one way or the other.

The blademaster's head shot up, followed by the others in his squad.
"What was that?" inquired the venerable orc.
"Gro'thall not know."
"Darkhorn! Gather two of your men and find out what that noise was! If we're not alone on this planet, I want the Fleet Chief to know."
One of the minotaurs hefted his halberd and tightened the knots in his hair. He grunted to two of his fellows, and they set off towards Third.


Meanwhile, another party of orcs and trolls had managed to run into a pack of Kree. Though the insectoid enemies hadn't noticed the green skinned brutes, the blademaster in charge of the second squad didn't want to take any chances. He activated his vibrosword and cried out an orcish war scream. Two dozen orcish grunts and at least twice that many blaster-wielding trolls charged at the Kree. The blademaster's sword sliced through one of the first Kree with little difficulty, though both halves of the enemy continued to move. It took the axe swings of three of the blademaster's fellows to finish it. The trolls, however, had more luck. Bolts of condensed energy shot out from them, and several of them hurled vibrospears at the Kree. The orcs began falling back, but the blademaster continued to slice through the Kree like a molten knife through butter. As he was overcome by the aliens, he shouted one last cry into the air.


Aboard the Drag'thar, a shaman's eyes snapped open.
"Our warriors have engaged some sort of hostile enemy. One squad has been overrun."
The shaman's guardians turned towards him, and one gestured to its partner. The guardian took off on its dire wolf steed through the grass-covered ship. He reached the ship's Great Hall (bridge) and reported to the chieftan. Preparations for a second wave began immediately.


Darkhorn kicked over a metal cube, and regretted it immediately.
"OOF! Damn orcs. Making us investigate some noise."
"Silence, Darkhorn," warned one of his totem-carrying companions. "We don't know what's over here."
"I'll tell you what's over here," said Bluepelt. "Dust. Lots of it." The three tauren minotaurs chuckled in their own baritone way, but the laughter stopped as they came upon Third and the Gerash.
"Just our luck," said Darkhorn as he activated his halberd. "It's inhabited. LOK'TAR, MY BROTHERS!"

A few more Kree dropped down through the hole, gracefully landing on their bent legs and scurrying off into the dark corridors. Two figures stood above the hole, whom the Kree were ignoring. Because they were Kree too.
They still had the same kind of legs as the others, but their hands were different – because they had some. Three spiked fingers, capable of holding things, sat at the end of their arms instead of a big spike. Their heads were the same too, however two tiny, beady black eyes were positioned near the front 'corners', blinking rapidly. Because of their hands they walked upright, instead of scurrying around a lot like the others.
Each of them clutched a small device in their hand. It was a small brown ring, made of the same material as their ship. The ring was more of an oval, with the end that pointed away from them ending in a spike. The spike was some sort of emitter, perhaps a weapon.
The two clicked and squealed to each other, apparently having a conversation. One of the normal Kree stopped and looked up at them. One of the two humanoid Kree raised an arm and shot the Kree with the small device it was holding. A small yellow ball, similar to those fired by their ships, engulfed the Kree and it dissolved instantly. They continued clicking madly, and then finally jumped down into the hole. They were a little taller than the other Kree, and so a little heavier, and they made a loud clang as their hard feet hit the metal. One of them reached for a control panel with its spare hand, pressed some buttons and shook its head. The other screeched in dismay, and fired at the panel. Their weapons weren’t very loud, making only electrical pulsing noises. It didn’t make much noise when it hit the panel either, but as soon as the yellow light had subsided, it revealed a large crater in the metal wall.
They looked at each other and then started running down one of the corridors. The normal Kree couldn’t find the Impure Ones, so they were going to have to do it for them.

*****

“Lok’tar?” Third repeated, confused. His eyes widened as they seemed to move aggressively, grabbing weapons and running at them. “Oh frak… suppressive fire; try not to hit them, but if you have no choice, try and just keep it limited to injuries, OK?”

The Gerash nodded. The one hiding behind the corner stepped out and aimed his rifle down the corridor and they both started firing blue plasma balls, aiming just in front of the running figures. Lights exploded and fell to the floor, consoles on the walls blew, and floor panels were ripped up, but none of them hit the attackers. Imperium weapons were originally designed thousands of years ago to scare primitive species into submission, so they were very loud and bright. Although the size of the blasts did a lot of splash damage and were very versatile, they weren’t really any more or less powerful than the typical rifle of an equivalent species. They just made a lot of noise and fired fairly rapidly.

Third fumbled with the translation computer, hoping that whatever they’d just said was enough for it to start a matrix. He turned the volume up and lifted it up to his jaws.

“Attention!” he said, hoping it spewed something out that was understandable to the creatures. “The Ghargant Imperium wishes peace!”

He lowered the computer and nodded at the Gerash to stop firing for a second, to see what they did.

The trio of massive tauren, each one almost three and a half meters in height, seemed unphased by the weapons firing. Just as Darkhorn was about to bring his halberd down onto Third's head, a vibroblade clanged against it.
"Idiot tauren! Could you not hear the creature?" snapped the orcish blademaster.
Dusthoof, the totem-carrying tauren, spoke up. "Sounded like gibberish to me, blademaster."
"When we return to the Gul'gamesh, schedule another lesson with Grak'deen Kua! The shaman needs to teach you a thing or two about listening without ears." The blademaster turned towards Third, his white beard swinging with irritation. The vibroblade came up, centimeters away from Third's face. "You! Explain yourself! Give me one good reason to not to end your insignificant life and give my shaman teacher a vial of alien blood for his gukda ceremony."
The rest of the blademaster's squad had begun clustering around now. The orcs held their axes menacingly while the trolls leveled blasters and vibrospears. The smattering of tauren, however, seemed oddly interested in a pacifistic sort of way.



A trio of larger zeppelin transports burned through the atmosphere in a flying V formation. The two zeppelins on either side began dispatching large, flying mammals. These mammals had a lionish head with a fur-covered body and batlike wings. Their tails ended with a stinger that secreted a toxic venom. On each of these creatures sat an orcish rider wielding a large vibrospear and several extras in reserve, along with a blaster and a vibroknife at his side. These were the elite guard of the shamen - the oon dabbu, or wind riders. The zeppelins landed with extreme grace compared to the earlier vessels, and from each one emerged an ancient orc atop a white draenorian wolf.
"This place stinks of corruption," said the first.
"Indeed. The demons have been here," said the second.
"Is there not a world the demons have not tainted?" inquired the third. "However, there are...other...scents here. We must commune with this land to find its secrets."
"Agreed," said the first and second.
A bonfire was built, and the three elite shamen, or FarSeers, sat in a triangle formation around it. They began a meditative chanting while aides fueled the conflagration with strange herbs and combustible rocks.

Third looked up at the tangled blades, moving back a little. With all that extra talking, the translation computer probably had enough to start a matrix for sure this time. He held up the translation computer to his jaws again.

"If you kill me, one of several things could happen," Third said. "These two characters behind me here could get angry. Or, the rest of us could use this facility's internal defences against you from a secure location. Or, the Imperium will send a fleet after you. Or, most likely, you will be overwhelmed by creatures that know no fear, no remorse, and no pain, and have immense numbers. Creatures which seem most resistant to attack, and very strong. Our ancestors call them the Kree, but as they never even attempted to communicate with us before they wiped us out, we don't know what they actually call themselves. And as we just recently restored power to this base, it's highly likely the Kree will be sending a ship to investigate, and destroy."

He looked around. Gerash aimed their bulky plasma rifles at a couple of the creatures' heads. The creatures held their blades in a similar fashion. A battle here would likely be quick and bloody. He was bluffing with most of it except for the Kree part. He wasn't sure if the transmission they'd sent had even reached Ghargonia Prime. He wasn't sure if the Imperium had a fleet left to send. And he wasn't sure if any internal defences were still working now that the Kree were running around breaking things. He wasn't totally dishonest though, as the Kree would likely slaughter them all whether they were working together or not. It was after all what they did best.

"Either way, you will likely end up dead," he shrugged, pushing the blades out of his face slowly. "However, if we work together, all of us have a much better chance of survival. If it's salvage you're after, we'll show you an armoury full of exotic weapons. Our people have experienced the Kree before, trust me when I say you don't want them to live. Now, if you..."

He stopped as he heard clattering behind him. Kree burst around the corner, tripping over themselves as they scurried towards the crowd of prey, snapping their metallic teeth together and screaming at them.
At a glance, Third counted six or seven. One of them launched at a Gerash, who wasn't ready. The Kree covered ten metres in a single jump, slamming feet-first into the soldier. He toppled to the ground, narrowly jerking his head from side to side as the animal's spiked arms jabbed down, slamming into the floor plating and creating deep dents. The Gerash planted a metal boot against the creature's chest, pushing it away slightly. When he had enough distance, he put his weight on his arms and slammed both boots into the Kree, knocking it into the others like a bowling ball. He jumped to his feet, ready this time. The other Gerash, now that his companion was clear, started blasting his plasma rifle at the Kree, knocking some of them to the floor. They got back up again and started running wildly.

"Those are the Kree," Third pointed, calmly. There was more clattering from the other end of the corridor. The sneaky things had called in reinforcements, surrounding them. Another five came around the corner. They seemed to have more intelligence than Third gave them credit for. Either that, or they had intelligent leadership organising them all.

Third pulled his sonic concussion rifle from his shoulder and thrust it at one of the intruders. "This will only stun you or I, but to the Kree, it's deadly. Go it alone with your blades if you want, but I wouldn't bet on you having very long to live. We can get you enough of these for your men to survive this if you agree to a truce."

He turned around to face the now-near Kree, drawing his battleblade and holding his plasma rifle in the other. Now lacking a weapon that could kill them instantly, his plan was to pin them to the ground with plasma fire and then cut their arms and legs off. The Gerash already had their concussion rifles at hand, waiting for his signal. The only problem with the concussion rifle was that with the new frequencies it took a full second to recharge after a shot, so they needed to make efficient use of their shots by focussing on a single group of targets. "GERASH, KILL!" he shouted.

*****

First looked around as he heard something impact against the repulsor field outside. A Kree, or Third forgetting it was there? He moved close to the metal wall by the door, and put the side of his head against it. He didn’t have ears as such, just holes on the sides of his head. Although he had powerful hearing senses, they had limited arcs of effectiveness.

Another buzz as something touched the field. Then, a clicking noise from the control panel. Someone pressing buttons; it must be Third after all. Although, he was pressing far too many buttons, and nothing happened except a ‘code refused’ noise.

Angry clicking noises resulted.

“Gerash, on that door!” First shouted to the last remaining Gerash at his disposal. He rushed over to a console and activated the room’s plasma turrets. They dropped from the ceiling, turning to aim at the door calmly. The mammals ran down to the lower central chamber, taking cover under tables and consoles.

The noise of buttons being pressed stopped. Quiet clicks, almost like whispers. Then he heard two Kree stomp away. The noise of their solid 'feet' such as they were hitting the metal was unmistakable, although these ones sounded either heavier than most Kree, or just more bad-tempered.

Close call.

But it sure sounded to him like they had discovered how to press buttons.

"Trolls, fire full spread! You men, HAVE AT THEM!"
The orcs pushed the power on their vibroaxes to full, creating a steady sonic hum as the thorium metal vibrated at hypersonic speeds. The deadly blades were more than they appeared, being able to hack through most armor with ease. The orcs, showing surprising dexterity for beings of such great mass, hurled themselves towards the Kree with reckless abandon. They were quickly followed by the tauren behemoths. Dusthoof hefted his family totem, which were used as massive war clubs by low ranking tauren, and smashed a Kree against the wall. He didn't bother to see what effect it had, wallowing into the fray and smashing anything that wasn't green or that had horns with his totem and hooves.
The blademaster found himself face-to-face with a Kree. He identified what he believed to be the 'head', and slashed his vibroblade horizontally to decapitate the thing. As he moved on, he swore that the thing was still moving.
The trolls hefted their blasters and fired again and again. The beams of focused energy did little but knock the Kree back, but they were better than nothing.
To the back of the trolls, a single orc stood chanting. He wore what appeared to be a wolf pelt about his head and was adorned by many orcish emblems. As he spoke, he asked the planet for its help in defeating these things. Two spheres of electricity began forming in the orc's hands, and he hurled these things at the nearest batch of Kree.
A younger troll yanked the concussion rifle from Third's outstretched hands, looking it over with a hungry look on its face.
"What's dis ting?" he asked as he accidentally activated it. It hit a Kree in the stomach, killing it instantly.

One Gerash was kicking the Kree away, using his spare wrist to deflect their spiked arms. He swung a leg around, slamming a metal boot into the side of a Kree's head. It flew up and slammed into the ceiling, fell back down and got up, snarling. The Gerash shot it with a concussion rifle without even looking, and swung his spare fist into another Kree's head. It was crushed against the wall. The Kree stepped away, apparently dazed, but then shook its head and jumped at the Gerash.

Third looked around to see a large, brown, moving javelin flying at the Gerash, who was already busy with several others. He shrugged, lifting his plasma rifle and firing. The Kree was knocked from its flight, and instead sent the opposite direction, hurtling back down to the end of the corridor. Where several more Kree emerged, snarling at the fight ahead of them.

"Rightyho," Third nodded. "That's enough for me I think." He looked back. The trolls had only a couple left to deal with, and they were calving them up quite nicely. There were no sign of Kree reinforcements on that side.
He looked back round. The Gerash were using the butts of their rifles to drive the Kree back and then shoot them. One of them had green blood trickling down his leg from a small hole in the armour, but he seemed to be unbothered, fighting as normal. The other had a slash across his snout, just narrowly missing his eye, but he too was too busy to pay much attention.

Third swung his battleblade through a nearby Kree, and then fired his plasma rifle at the 'busy' end of the corridor. He drove them back, but he only had a few more rounds left in this clip.

"OK you two, time to leave," Third shouted, looking back. The trolls were done with their Kree, turning to face another dozen or so on the Ghargonian side, with more on the way if that clattering noise was anything to go by.

He didn't have time to fumble around for his translator. Instead he looked at the one that appeared to be the leader and waved his hand backwards. He hoped they understood the Ghargonian Military hand signal for 'fall back'.

"Relutima tell kanu, vest naka pakash telos!" he shouted at them. Without the translator they probably wouldn't understand, but it should at least grab their attention. He turned back in time to see a Kree jab its arm through his upper leg, roaring in delight.

"AGGGHHH!" he shouted. Unwillingly, he put his plasma rifle against the Kree's head as it raised its spare arm, and pulled the trigger. Its arm ripped out of his leg as it slid down the corridor. Other Kree jumped over it as it struggled to get to its feet. Third winced, but remembered his training. He sheathed his battleblade and pulled out a spare utility belt from his sack, tying it around his leg. One of the Gerash saw his predicament and let him sling his arm over his shoulder, steadying himself on his good leg. They started to back off down the corridor. Third pulled out his pistol as the rifle ran out of rounds, and started firing that at them instead. They were smaller, less powerful blasts, but they were at least forcing the Kree to stop for a second when they were hit.

*****

"Alert, power core shutdown procedure initiated," the computer said.

"What?" First spluttered, spinning around on his stool. The centre screen on the master display console showed a minute countdown. The core wasn't failing, it wasn't overloading, and it wasn't running out of fuel, it was just... shutting down. The Kree?

He looked closer. Some obscure access codes were used to authorise the shutdown command. Probably an ancient code of one of the original Ghargonian inhabitants. He and Third had found it necessary to generate new codes for themselves to get around, as they couldn't access the old security database. He'd never seen this one before.
Given how corrupt the database was after two thousand years, it must have been used by somebody who already knew it. A Ghargonian, still alive on this base after all this time? Or the Kree… they were the originals, after all, held in stasis… it’s possible they knew the code, but he doubted it.

He quickly entered in his own code and pressed the override button, averting the core shutdown.

"We're going to need to get out of here soon," he muttered to himself as he started dredging through old logs and files to find somewhere else to hide.

The blademaster didn't have the foggiest idea what Third had said, but he guessed from his actions what he meant.
"Lok'nar osh! Lok'nar osh!"
The orcs began falling back, the trolls providing fire cover. The blademaster hurled a vibroknife at a pursuing Kree to slow it down. He caught up to Third, and his eyes flashed unnaturally. As the orcs and trolls passed by, the tauren keeping the flank protected. As he ran alongside the alien, he spoke. Only, it wasn't in orcish or draenorian basic. He spoke in flawless Ghargonian.
"Some friends you have here, alien. Any idea how to stop them?"

Third looked at the creature, then down in his sack. Yep, his translator was switched off. He looked back up, narrowing his yellow eyes. Interesting.
The Gerash that was essentially dragging him along on one foot pointed his arm backwards and fired a few shots without looking, knocking down a couple of the Kree that were chasing them. After that, they screamed after them and seemed to give up for the time being.

"Erm... right. Not really," Third said. "These rifles like the one I gave you are good against small numbers, but for a full-scale war we might need something a little more potent. And I'm not sure how they could be adapted to take on ships. There are legends in ancient computers about these creatures that say their ships are invincible, though I doubt such a claim. I actually doubted they could build ships at all until I saw a couple fly off a few days ago. They seem like stupid, instinctive creatures."

He dodged his head as the Gerash slung his rifle over his shoulder. Third snapped at the brute, who'd apparently forgotten Third was leaning on him, and then shook his head.

"I suppose we might have found something in this base," he continued. "If the Kree weren't running around in it. Our ancestors here seemed to be working on ways to kill them, like this rifle, until... the Kree killed them instead."

The empty-handed Gerash dropped back from the rest of the group, jerking a door shut that the Kree had simply torn open, destroying the mechanism. He jogged back up when he was done. It wouldn't last, but it'd slow any of them down.



After a few minutes of running, and going down two flights of metal stairs, they reached a door. It was different than the others; it appeared stronger. A red glimmer covered the door, and several yellow warning plates with red Ghargonian text plastered over them.
The Gerash steadied Third next to the door and he reached down to the control panel. He stopped as he noticed tiny little holes in the centre of each of the buttons. He looked up at the Gerash, who shrugged unknowingly. Third shrugged and entered his codes.

They stepped through, stopping as they saw three large roof-mounted gun turrets and two soldiers aiming weapons at them.

"Hi..." he said nervously, looking around. They lowered their weapons, and the turrets began panning the room casually. "Nice to feel welcome."
He gestured at the group of orcs and trolls to step inside. First and the other Gerash brought their weapons up again, but Third waved his hand.

"It's OK, they're... well, they're not Kree anyway," Third said. First looked them over for a while, then nodded and lowered his rifle. The Gerash was more cautious but did the same.

"Welcome to damnation," First nodded at the newcomers. He looked back at Third. "What happened to your leg?" Third waited for the group to file into the room and then shut the doors, relaxing when the field buzzed on.

"Oh, a Kree thought it would be good to use it as a pin cushion," Third snorted as the Gerash dumped him on a chair and walked to their guard posts. "I... what's the matter?"

"Well," First began as he entered his access code to override a core shutdown. "Since you've been gone, the power core has attempted to shut down five times."

"Frek..." Third said. He looked down at his leg. The hole was severe. A human might have required surgery, but he should be OK if he kept the belt on tightly. "If the core goes down, so does that repulsor field. And the turrets. Those smelkars can get in if that happens..."

"Which worries me too," First nodded. "But not as much as the fact that it's not an automatic procedure. There is somebody repeatedly entering an old access code and commanding it to shut down. And each time, they get better at deflecting my attempts to stop them."

"Well that's never... AGGH... that's never good," Third winced as he pulled the belt tight.

"We can do one of three things," First said, sitting back. "Find and secure the power core. Sit tight here and hope the Kree don't get in. Or find somewhere better to hide. There could be a fourth option, though. If you can hack it on that leg."

"What is it?" Third asked, slamming his feet to the ground and getting to his feet in an effort to answer First's subtle 'are you fit for duty' question.

"When the core first started shutting down, I started looking for alternative secure locations to take refuge until help arrived," First said. He called up a map of the facility and pointed at a huge room near the Southern section. "I found something interesting in the hangar manifest. There are the usual interceptor fighters and suchlike, but there is one called 'Kree Gunship 1'."

"Kree Gunship? What the frek is one of those? A captured Kree ship?"

"My first thought," First nodded. "But I looked deeper and found that it's an Imperium-built, anti-Kree gunship, about four times bigger than a standard fighter. It's pretty much useless against any conventional warship. But apparently, against a Kree ship it's formiddable. Its shields and weapons are tuned to deal with the Kree and the Kree alone."

"And how does this ship have any better chance against a Kree ship than the most advanced battleship in the fleet?" Third asked.

"I'm not sure," First shook his head. "I don't even know if it's still intact; the Southern section is near the old terralium mine and its sustained massive damage."

"Alert, power core shutdown procedure initiated," the computer said for the sixth time.

"Same access code, same location," First sighed, working quickly as he started bypassing several lockout procedures and finally entering his code. It was taking longer to avert the shutdown every time. Many more times and he'd be too late.

First looked at the strange new creatures, who milled around, seemingly bored. "Hang on... how the frek did you people get here? Is your ship a warship? Is it battle-ready?"

"Our ships are battle-ready. Two destroyers and a carrier, making up the Ark'tro exploratory fleet, are currently in orbit. If you can convince the Fleet Chieftan to aid your cause, we will have roughly two thousand warriors and pilots at your disposal."
One of the grunts roared in rage. Unlike the blademaster, he spoke in orcish.
"Blademaster! You just told them our strength!"
"Silence, Zoon'pa. I am in charge here, and I will make the decisions."
"But...you in charge us, but you not lead fleet."
"Fleet Chief will agree. I know it. We are in the same clan, him and I."

He then barked an order, and four of the massive tauren stepped forward.
"You must secure this 'core', alien. These tauren shall aid you."

"Unfortunately the core is on the far side of the Southern section," First said. He pointed at a map on the screen. A green room sat alone on the far side of many, many red zones. "Getting there would be tricky, even if there weren’t Kree running around."


He looked around, pointing at several vents and another door at the rear of the room.

"This room isn't going to be easy to hold either," First shook his head. "Once the repulsor fields are down, there are potentially multiple entrances into this room."

"Kree can't be shutting down the core," Third shook his head. "They're idiots! Have you not been seeing all these creatures? They're animals! To be able to shut down the core, you need hands anyway. If they still used the same safeguards back then as we do now, first you need to access the console, then you need to know and be capable of entering an access code, then you need to lift up the shut down button protector and press the button. And to do the sorts of stuff necessary to try and block a cancellation, you need to know how to use a computer!"

"It's unlikely," First nodded. "But I heard them. Pressing buttons. While you were gone, there was someone standing outside the door trying to enter the access code to lower the repulsor field. And they were making noises like Kree! And now this? It's almost as if they know that if the core goes down, so does that field... and do you know anybody else old enough to remember an original access code?"

"Maybe there were some Gerash Guardians in stasis," Third shrugged.

"I don't think so," First shook his head. "We'd have seen them by now. No. What we need is a way out of here. And a way of stopping a Kree ship from coming before we can reach the hangar and get out of here."

"I thought you said you weren't even sure if there were any ships in the hangar...?"

"I'm not, but we have a better chance of finding a ship there than defending this control centre, or getting to the core," First snapped.

He braced himself as the base shook. A metal panel fell from the roof and a light exploded, dust raining off the disused consoles.

"What the hell was that?" Third asked. Lights and consoles started shutting down. When it was pitch black, the red emergency lights came on again. First fumbled around with the master control console, but there was nothing.

"Dead," First shrugged. This time there was no light on there to switch everything back on again. "My guess is that the core's been destroyed."

"Wouldn't it go critical?" Third asked.

"Not if you did it right," First shook his head. "But if you didn't, then there's still a delay of about almost an hour before it hits critical mass. There are some emergency containment systems that don't require power, but they only last so long."

"What now?"

"I think we need to investigate the possibility of an anti-Kree gunship," First nodded. "Without power, the hangar's more defensible than the control centre anyway. It's bigger too. I don't fancy fighting those things close quarters..."

He pointed at Third's leg, as though he was living proof.

"Alright, alright," Third nodded. "Let's go to the hangar."

One of the Gerash dug its claws into the crack of the door, and started pulling. He growled as he struggled, but eventually the diminishing charge of the electromagnetic lock subsided enough for him to slowly slide the doors open. Another Gerash stood behind him, aiming a sonic concussion rifle through the gap.

"It's going to be fun trying to keep these mammals from making too much noise," Third nodded at the group of mammals, who seemed to be preparing to leave with them.

"You want to take them?" First sighed.

"Wel, they have been helpful," Third said. "And they seem to follow us of their own accord, rather than listen to instructions."

"I can think of ways to stop that," First said, nodding over at the unoccupied Gerash. He was still gazing at the mammals, his jaws open slightly.

"If you want to eat something, soldier, eat a Kree," Third snapped.

"You fellows want to come along?" First asked the Blademaster. "We'll be passing by that hole you came in through, if you want to order your ships prepare for battle. Or take cover behind a moon or something. It might be less disastrous to let a Kree ship land rather than try and attack it. It's not like there aren't too many Kree here already; what're five hundred more going to do?"

"A lot," Third winced, seeing how hard he could stamp with his bad leg.

"Although, if we take too long and the core does go critical..." First said. "Oh, nevermind. Given that there are thousands of Kree on the surface and only a few hundred in here, I'd say both sticking with us and heading to the surface are both equally bad ideas."

*****

The humanoid Kree roared angrily as another attempt to shut down the core was averted. It slammed its hands into the console, smashing straight through the Impure metal. Whoever was stopping him seemed to know the computer better than he did.

His companion roared in frustration and stomped out of the room, heading down a corridor and stopping beside a door. The other one followed.
Without a second thought, the angry Kree jammed its fingers into the crack in the door and yanked them open as though they were made of paper. They came off their tracks, and sparks flew as the inner mechanism was ripped to pieces with the sheer force. The angry Kree stepped through, followed by the calm one.

The calm one seemed to be trying to calm the angry one down, clicking madly and occasionally grabbing its arm. The angry Kree ignored it, stomping towards the main power core. A huge metal cylinder occupied the centre of the large room, with numerous consoles attached to it and the walls around it. The Kree stopped when it could see the core, raised its arm and fired its weapon several times.

The yellow pulses flew into the core, making light work of its protective outer shell, and hit a vital part deep inside. It exploded, filling the engineering room with a ball of fire that sent the two Kree flying into the far wall. The entire base rumbled and shook violently, and the fireball subsided.

"Warning, core overload in progress," a snarling, mechanical voice said in Ghargonian. The two Kree looked up as all the lights shut off, replaced by red spinning ones. "Emergency conta...ta...ta...ta..." the voice got stuck, and then gave up.

One Kree looked at the other one and nodded, clicking enthusiastically. The other nodded in agreement and they started sprinting out of the room, still steaming from the heat. They roared, a bellowing roar that attracted the attention of every Kree snooping around the base.

"We shall go with you, alien. I have more men on the surface, and several of my fellow blademasters as well. If there really are as many Kree out there as you say, then I must stop the FarSeers from landing. The shamans may have combat skills superior to my own, but three FarSeers are no match for thousands of Kree. Grak'thal! Take command. Use stealth to follow the aliens. You, shaman." He gestured to the pelt-wearing orc towards the back. "What is your name?"
"Morg Truthseer, blademaster."
"A surname? Then I am honored to have you. Come with me. Dusthoof, Darkhorn, you must come with me as well. We're heading to the surface. The rest of you, follow Grak'thal's orders as you would my own."
There was a rounding cry of "Zug zug!" from the orcs, and a larger orc grunt stepped up to First.
"We take point. You tell us where go."

Meanwhile, the blademaster and his handpicked team had vanished. They made their way to the surface without incident, and the aged blademaster set his hand upon Morg Truthseer's shoulder, and the shaman began chanting. The blademaster felt his spirit floating away from his physical body. He floated upwards, upwards through the atmosphere. He spotted the destroyer Gul'gamesh and willed his spirit towards it. He passed the crew without their notice, going through walls and flesh with equal ease. He entered the ship's Spirit Lodge and immediately felt at home. This is where his master had taught him the ways of the shamans; the ways to commune with the spirit world.
"Master, I have returned."
Kag'ar Winterfang, the ship's FarSeer, turned to him with blind eyes. The FarSeers ritually blinded themselves to better commune with the spirits. Kag'ar could see both flesh and spirit with equal ease.
"Ah, Samuro. You have returned to me. Tell me, how goes the conquest of the savage planet?"
"We have met...resistance. An organism known as the 'Kree' have opposed us at every turn. Our weapons have only limited effect against them. Even the shaman, Morg Truthseer, can barely harm them. We have met allies, however, who know how to defeat these Kree. They say that the Kree have more ships en-route."
"What do you suggest, grasshopper?"
"We must abandon the battlegroup. Leave the ships with a skeleton battle crew and send everyone else to the surface. We have taken refuge in an underground facility, but it too is infested with Kree. With the rest of the Horde, they should be no problem."
"And the pilots?"
"The aliens have identified a ship holder inside the facility. They will be able to dock there."
Kag'ar seemed to think for a second. He then responded.
"I shall need more time. You, however, must return to the physical plane. Your flesh case is in peril. Rejoin your allies, and wait for my signal."
"Yes, Master."
"Touch your tongue to mine, grasshopper."
"Zug zug."
The blademaster's ethereal form touched its tongue to the FarSeer's, and he was instantly transmitted back to his mortal body.
"We must return to the facility! NOW!"

It was eerily quiet. The metal boots of the Ghargonians and Gerash tapped lightly against the metal floor; considering their size, they were remarkably stealthy when they wanted to be. The Orcs followed behind, also being surprisingly stealthy.

First had deployed his helmet. The corridors were once again dark except for one or two red lights, powered by the emergency generators. The closer to the Southern section they got, the fewer lights there were. The corridors were narrow, accepting maybe two Ghargonians side-to-side, and one and a half Gerash. The bare metal walls offered no cover, so it was lucky their foes used melee attacks.

First stopped, raising his hand. A Gerash stepped next to him, listening. There was tapping. It stopped, just up ahead; a T-junction. That was where they needed to go, and it sounded like a Kree was already there. First turned his flat hand sideways, and looked at the Gerash, making a forward chopping motion. The Gerash nodded, and slowly walked towards the turn-off. Before he was halfway, a Kree stepped around the corner. It stood on its long, bent legs, and lifted up an arm. It had no spike on its arm, just a hand which clutched a... weapon?

A yellow pulse flew from the small ringed device it held, and engulfed the Gerash. When the light subsided, the Gerash was gone.

"For the love of Krak..." First exclaimed. A Kree with an energy weapon? "Open fire!"

The remaining two Gerash and Third started firing at the Kree with their plasma rifles. The Kree actually sounded like it was laughing as it merely took a step back under the onslaught. When First shouldered his plasma rifle and grabbed a sonic concussion rifle, the Kree's tiny eyes widened and it stepped back into the turn-off. First ducked as its arm poked back around and fired off three more energy pulses. They impacted harmlessly with the wall, vaporising large craters in the metal.

"On our six!" Third shouted, ducking as some more energy pulses flew into the wall next to him. He yanked a concussion rifle out of a Gerash's hands and rolled forwards, trying to get in range. He fired, a booming noise echoing down the corridor. The Kree stepped back, sagging. It shook its head, but it was too far away to be lethal. It fired at Third and stepped around a corner, taking refuge. Third dropped his rifle to the ground and jumped back as it vanished in a burst of yellow light.

First reached into Third's sack and pulled out a plasma grenade. He set it to maximum yield, started a countdown and nudged an Orc out of the way as he through it down the other end of the corridor, back where they had come from. It bounced, landing just beside the corner the second Kree hid behind. The Kree made a curious clicking noise from behind its shelter. First saw a hand reach for the grenade just as a white flash blinded him. The explosion ripped floor and wall panels from their set locations, and the upper roof supports at that end of the corridor collapsed. Rocks fell in from above, blocking off the other Kree. First could hear it shooting at the obstacle; it wouldn't be long before it found a way in.

It wouldn't be so easy with the first Kree though. They needed to go that way, and that Kree had a weapon. He nodded at one Gerash, who stood behind him, aiming his rifle at the turn off. First edged towards it, his sonic concussion rifle aimed where he thought the Kree would be.
As he rounded the corner, there was nothing. Just an empty corridor, stretching off in the distance. He looked back around and shook his head. He couldn't hear the second Kree shooting anymore.

"I think they're gone," First called back. "Let's keep moving." He led the way down the next corridor, towards the hangar bay.

*****

The Kree looked down at the round, metal object. A curious expression, if you could call it that, appeared on its face and it clicked with interest. It bent down to pick it up, and stopped. It seemed to realise what it was. It exploded, and the Kree flew backwards, smacking its head on several of the dead lights above before landing on its back on the floor. It hopped to its feet to see rubble and metal falling down into the corridor, blocking it off from the Impure Ones.

The Kree roared, stomping towards the blockade with its weapon raised. It started firing at the blockade. Each time a pulse vaporised a crater into the obstacle, more debris fell down to take its place. It fired faster, madly, clicking in frustration. It paused, looking into space. It nodded and turned, running back down the corridor.

The first Kree had already run off, jumping into a hole in the ceiling. The Impure Ones had found a way to kill their brethren, after all these millennia. They were going to have to fight a little differently this time.

*****

Kelrod pointed at the screen enthusiastically.

"There!" he said. A small blip on the screen, and then nothing.

"I still do not see it, General," Gorbgan grumbled.

"A scout ship," Kelrod said. "It is probing our system and hiding behind the outer planet. This is new; according to legend, they are supposed to simply sweep through our system without stopping."

"Have you done something to cause them fear?" Gorbgan asked.

"No... that's just it," Kelrod shook his head. "We're even weaker than the first time, I have no clue why they would be hesitant this time."

"Have you found any way to defeat them?" Gorbgan asked, changing the subject.

"Well my lord, we have increased the shielding of half our battleships by 140%," Kelrod said. "They should now withstand one, maybe two Kree hits before overloading."

"That is it?" Gorbgan snorted.

"I'm afraid so," Kelrod nodded. "If our scientists had more time, they may be able to find something to use against them, but as it is... that's al we can offer at the moment."

"It is a start," Gorbgan said. "Alert me at the first sign of a Kree fleet."

"Yes, my lord," Kelrod bowed, and turned back to his monitor.

As the blademaster's squad tore across the open plains, the blademaster looked up. Small dots sped through the skies, and he instantly recognized them as Drak'qua fighters, the standard single ships of the Horde. It was a squadron of six, flying in standard box formation. They suddenly dove, spraying bursts of energy across the ground several kilometers away from the blademaster. Samuro knew instantly what was going on. His bretheren had spotted a group of Kree and were moving in to destroy them. He wanted to call out to the fighters, to warn them of the enemy's abilities, but knew there was no way. Wind Riders came after the fighters, hurling spears at anything that still moved.
Could our weapons really be effective against the Kree? thought Samuro to himself.
As if an answer to his silent inquiry, three surviving Kree shot up and attacked the low-flying Wind Riders. There was nothing the blademaster could do to help his comrades, so he only spurred his squad onwards. They came to the original entrance that the Tauren had made, and Samuro leapt in. He was followed by Dusthoof and Darkhorn, and then finally Morg Truthseer. Samuro turned to the young shaman.
"Find them."
"Already done, blademaster," responded the pelt-wearing orc. "This way."
The shaman took point, leading the older orc and pair of Tauren through the maze. They were hardly expecting it when they ran into a wall of debris.
"It looks like they ran into trouble, blademaster," said Dusthoof.
"Indeed. Stand back." Samuro turned his blade to full power and stuck it into the debris. At first only a few pebbles rattled down, but the blademaster began twisting the sword and small boulders began dislodging themselves. The Tauren moved to help. Dusthoof smashed the cave-in with his totem while Darkhorn used his halberd in the same manner as Samuro's blade. Within the space of a few minutes, the debris had been cleared. The squad kept moving, eventually finding their way to the hangar.
"Lok'tar, my brothers. We have returned."
The orcs beat their breasts in triumph for reasons that would be unknown to the aliens. Samuro turned to Third.
"We must prepare this ship holder. Many more of my people may be coming. If there is a Kree fleet on its way, then I hope the FarSeers have the wisdom to move our army into the safety of the base."


At that very moment, actually, dozens of zeppelins were on their way towards the hangar. They were escorted by four squadrons of fighters and a detatchment of Wind Riders. The Horde on the ground had begun a retreat from battle, heading towards the entrance to the base. It was about to get a lot more crowded.

Not far from the planet, a rippling formed. Space itself appeared to be wobbling, and a patch tore open. A black hole appeared, blotting out the stars behind it. It continued to grow until reaching a certain size, and then stopped. Nothing was sucked in, nothing was blown out. It did not appear to have any depth, it was just a black spot.
Next to it, another hole tore space itself open, blotting out the stars. That stopped expanding when it was the same size as the first, and then it did nothing.

After a few minutes, a ship came out of each. A dull brown ship, with two curved-back 'blade' wings on either side surrounding a round command section. They arced left, towards the planet, cruising away from the holes calmly. Once they were clear, the holes 'zipped' themselves back up, leaving normal space as though nothing had happened.

The two ships flew in a lose formation, making their way towards the planet.

*****

The Kree stopped near the vent. It could sense a presence; peering through, it saw the Impure Ones, already in the Place of Evil. The large room housed the Destroyer of Kree, and few of the normal Kree were comfortable entering.

The Kree backed away, and held up the small weapon. It made some clicking noises into the back of it, and then turned to find another way in.

*****

Third was the first to limp up to the large door. He looked it up and down, and once deciding that it was intact, he started looking for a control panel.

"That won't open automatically," First nodded. "Too big for the emergency generators to shift."

"I know..." Third said, bending down. "I'm looking for a release catch so we can pull it... ah, here it is."

He reached into a hole in the wall, fumbled around for a second, and grunted with success when a loud 'clunk' echoed inside the wall. He stood back up, brushing the dust of his metal-coated arm.

"Give me a claw, here, would you?" he nodded at a Gerash and an Orc. First lowered his rifle at the door, while the other Gerash aimed his rifle down the corridor, watching their backs.

The three of them put all their weight into it, slowly opening one half of the door. They looked in to see their unlikely comrades already inside.

"Should be safe sir," Third called over his shoulder. He braced the door open while they filed in, then he and a Gerash pulled it shut.

While Third fumbled around inside the wall to try and lock the door again, First strode over the metal deck plating to the group already inside.

"I see you found your way," First said to their leader. "We ran into some trouble back there. Kree with energy weapons and hands. Possibly the same Kree who build and fly the ships."

He looked around the hangar. He stopped his searching when he saw a ship, crammed up against the wall. It was covered with dust, and a few metal bracing poles that had fallen from the roof over time, but otherwise it was fine. Third walked up to him, brushing his arm off again.

"Is that it?" Third asked.

"I think so," First said, admiring is lines.

In terms of design, it was very similar to a Kree ship, with long, curved, slightly down-pointing blade-like wings surrounding a central living area. Only this ship had been Ghargonianised; the blades joined up at the rear, the engine plating mounted between the two and acting almost like a weld to hold them together. It was more like one large, bent blade than two short ones. It was about 100 metres long, and had only a couple of windows on the central habitat. Two large weapon emitters were mounted on the front tips of the blade wings, as well as several missile and torpedo mounts underneath. It glistened metallic silver, dispite the layer of dirt that covered the ancient craft.

First walked over to it, looking up at the central area. It was a flat-bottomed cylinder, which ended in a cone halfway between the two blades, and at the rear it merged elegantly with the rectangular engine plating. He reached up and pressed the hatch release. Without any power, the ramp simply dropped down, narrowly missing First's head, and slammed loudly into the deck.

"Woah," First said, rubbing the side of his head.
He looked up into the dark cabin, stepping in cautiously. A skeleton sat beside the exit of the craft; apparently whoever this was had also taken refuge from the Kree. Apparently he had waited too long. He looked around, following the very narrow passageways until he found the cockpit.
He looked out of the dirty front window, which was curved right around a two-seated control room, and knocked on the terraliglass. Third looked up and saluted, but continued talking with a Gerash.

"Now, where's the power..." he thought out loud, looking around. There was a small datapad under the main control panels, which curved elegantly around the front of the cockpit. He reached under and picked it up.

He made his way back out and stepped down the ramp, waving the panel around.

"This thing says we need a troop transport-level microfusion generator," he called across the hangar. "Gerash, see if you can find the equipment storage room. And find a control panel for this main door!" He pointed at the huge doors that doubled up as the wall of the far side of the hangar, which no doubt opened to the outside world.

"Well, does that tell you what it does?" Third asked.

"Apparently, it doesn't have any conventional plasma or tachyon weapons," First said. "Because nothing they tried could punch through the Kree's hull to damage the internal systems, they had to find a way around it. The weapons on this gunship thing, which the pad calls a 'Bladeship', are just harmless energy pulses to you and me. But they're specifically tuned to the energy frequencies of the Kree ships, and they'll pass straight through the hull. Apparently they have a captured Kree ship stored somewhere in this base, though I have no idea where. These energy pulses supposedly overload a Kree ship's power systems, and blow it up from the inside."

"Just like those rifles are modified to overload the Kree themselves," Third nodded thoughtfully. "And the shields?"

"Oh they won't last long," First shook his head. "Kree weapons are very powerful. A single ship could literally destroy a planet within an hour of constant bombardment. The shields have been modified, however; instead of absorbing energy like standard shields, which is what caused the overloads, they act like a conductor, and siphon most of it harmlessly away from the ship. Unfortunately, Kree weapons are so powerful that even the small amount of energy that does get through means that the shield grid can only take ten or eleven shots before collapsing."

"That thing better be quick enough to dodge incoming fire then," Third snorted. "Or it'll be a short trip."

"Do you have ships incoming?" First turned to the Blademaster. "We have to find a way to open the hangar doors; it would be quicker with your men assisting the search. We're looking for a small room filled with consoles, like the control centre only about a fifth of the size."

"I'll go and help the Gerash search for a generator," Third nodded, limping off.

*****

The Kree looked down on the hangar, clicking quietly. He stood on a vent opening, which bent slightly under its weight. The Impure Ones had found the Destroyer of Kree, and were trying to switch it on again.

The Kree looked at the vent in the distance, a wall vent on the far right side of the hangar. The Kree's companion peered out. One of them closed is eyes for a few seconds, and the other nodded. They had to wait until the right moment to strike, now that they had anti-Kree weapons. The Kree slowly started unscrewing the vent.

"Dit you hear someting?" inquired Zul'kis, one of the Trolls to Brokentotem.
"I heard a creaking, if that's what you're asking," answered the behemoth Tauren.
"What do you tink it be?"
"This place is old. Most likely some dust shifting. Noting to worry about. Now hurry, we need to get those doors open."
The Troll and Tauren moved away to aid in the search. Unbeknownst to them, they had been standing directly beneath the vent where the Kree dwealt.


The Blademaster's men had already begun to fan out. Several scouting parties had joined Samuro, and he stood with several other tall Orcs adorned in similar armor and equipped with similar vibroblades. As First asked him the question, one of Samuro's bretheren recieved a shamanistic message. After a quick discussion in Orcish, Samuro turned to First.
"One of Daisho's shamans has found your control center. A Troll team is en-route. Follow Morg Truthseer. He will show you the way, alien. As for your generator, perhaps a power source from one of our zeppelins would serve."

"Found one!" Third shouted. A Gerash was towing a large object on a gravity lifter. Only problem was that the grav lifter was over 2,000 years old and didn't work anymore. So he was making a few grunting noises as the sled scraped across the floor, ripping up floor tiles.

"I appreciate your offer," First said to Samuro. "But with something involving this much power I'd rather have something designed for the job if at all possible. If this generator fails, however, I may just take you up on that..."

"We won't know till we fit it," Third said, stopping beside First. "And I won't fit it until the Gerash has taken it into the ship." He looked back at the Gerash. If reptiles could sweat he'd be leaving a slime trail.

"First, go with this Truthseer," First said. "They believe they have found the control room for this hangar; if they have, open the doors. They have incoming vessels."

"Yes sir," Third saluted, and walked off with Morg Truthseer.

"Where'd the other Gerash go?" First wondered, looking around.



Third passed through the door, looking around the small room. Consoles were packed in, and a terraliglass window overlooked the hangar.

"This should be it," he nodded. "Good job. I just hope the emergency generators account for the hangar doors..."

He reached over to a console. It was an old-style one with no lights, so he wasn't sure if it would work. All the same, he entered his command authorisation code and entered the door release sequence. He looked up.

A huge, floor-rattling, deep 'boom' reverberated through the entire base. Another, similarly loud 'clunk' followed. Third looked around as the room started shaking, multiple clanging noises coming from all around. There was a hissing sound, and another loud clunk, and the huge doors of the hangar slowly parted, dust and rusted metal falling to the ground below.
The horrific screeching noise send shivers down Third's spine as the doors slowly pulled away from each other. There was another hiss, and the doors stopped moving with a metal-on-metal thud.

"Damn," Third said as the noises stopped. "They only opened a quarter of the way. How big are your ships? We need to find some kind of lever or mechanism or something to open them fully."

*****

The Kree's head darted up as a huge clunk started shaking the air vent it was in. That was the least of its problems, though, as a loud screeching sound pierced its sensitive ears. It span in mid air as it curled into a ball, slamming down onto the loose vent. The vent tilted under the newly-distributed weight, some of its screws missing. As the whole thing stopped shaking, the remaining screws snapped, their age betraying them. The vent cover fell free, tumbling down the long drop to the hangar floor. The Kree looked around, almost comically, as it felt itself start falling. It span in mid air, ready to land, and started firing off energy blasts at random targets. It hit the ground with a force that would have killed even a Gerash, but it simply hopped up and started taking pot-shots at the Impure.



The missing Gerash had stumbled upon the other Kree. The Kree burst out of the vent, slamming into him. The Gerash stumbled, shocked, and jumped to a ready pose. The other Kree were lethal in close quarters due to their spikes. Despire the apparently increased strength of these new ones, the fact that they had no life-threatening spikes increased the Gerash's chances of winning.

Grunting, he took a swipe at the Kree, its palm impacting with the Kree's upper head. It dropped its weapon as it fell backwards, and the weapon span across the floor.

The Kree roared at the Gerash. It took vicious, incredibly fast swipes at him. Its hands hit the Kree's face with such force that it didn't need spikes to do damage. The Gerash was knocked sideways, hitting the ground hard. He went to flip back to his feet when the Kree slammed its leg into his side. Kree legs looked fragile and delicate, but the force of that kick send the Gerash sliding across the metal floor, hitting a wall.

The Gerash struggled to get to its feet, only to be sent flying by the Kree as it span its arm into his jaw. The Gerash went straight over the Kree's head, his substancial body mass creating ripples in the floor plates as he landed on his back. The Gerash span on the floor, hoping to knock the Kree off-balance, but when his hefty metal boot hit the Kree, it didn't even budge. Instead, it lifted a leg and slammed it down on the Gerash's lower arm. Snapping sounds were never a good sign.

Apparently bored, the Kree slipped its arms under the Gerash and lifted him from the ground. Ignoring the repeated punches to the face and the attempts to wriggle free, the Kree carried him towards a corner of the wall, and pressed the Gerash's back up against it. Instead of supporting his weight, the Kree now tried to push it through the wall, against the corner. One hand against the Gerash's head, another against his lower legs, it seemed to find it easy to fold the Gerash around the corner, and didn't seem bothered by the horrendous snapping sounds and roars of pain. When it was confident that the Gerash wouldn't annoy it again, it let go and walked off to find its weapon. The Gerash dropped to the ground, contorted, dead.

*****

The Kree ships passed quite close by the fleet in orbit of the planet. They didn't seem to care though. They didn't even adjust their course to try and avoid them. As they passed through the atmosphere, a small hole opened in the bottom of each ship. Small little blobs fell from the holes. As they fell, small wings folded out and they zoomed off towards the ground at high speed. Fighters?

The Kree ships continued on towards the ground, preparing to land their payload.

Morg Truthseer waved off the Gerash.
"There's no need. Tauren! Get down there!"
A squad of a dozen Tauren began moving towards the door. They took up position by the stuck pieces of metal and began pushing. Slowly but surely, the door began rising.


Not so far away, the Orcs had seen the Kree crashing down from the vent. The Orcs charged the Kree, reducing the intruder to ribbons. Three Orcs and a Tauren fell to the Kree's shots, and a Troll picked up the weapon.
"Intresting. Dis could be useful."
Samuro called to Third.
"The Kree are here! We need to defend ourselves!"


Outside, fighters began strafing runs of the ground, which was crawling with Kree. The impacts of their pulse weapons could be heard inside the base.


A pair of zeppelins entered the now-widening doors. They landed and disgorged their occupants. Amongst them was a wolf-riding FarSeer. The Blademasters bowed to this newcomer. Obviously, this ancient Orc was a figure of authority.

((Sorry for the short post))

OOC: Sorry, I've had a new car and been otherwise occupied. I'll understand if you're gone away from this by now. I'll try and tie this up in a post or two.

IC:

First beckoned Third and the remaining Gerash up the ramp as it slowly started to close.

"It's time for some Kree-bashing," First shouted.

"Where's the other Gerash?!" Third called as he clambered into the ship.

"Don't know, no time to wait," First said. They all moved towards the front of the ship as the ramp rose to a sealed position. A Kree snuck around and put its fingers on the end of the ramp and pulled itself inside just as the door slammed shut and hissed.

The engine plate at the rear glowed as a deep, thrumming hum filled the hangar and it lifted from the ground. Suddenly, it accelerated forwards.



The Bladeship burst from the underground hangar, spraying dirt everywhere as it skimmed the ground, spinning like some sort of deadly ballet dancer. It arced around the sky just as yellow energy blasts began pounding the ground above the hangar. The Bladeship weaved through the trees and fired two white bursts of energy, similar in appearance to the Kree weapons fire. The blobs impacted with the much larger Kree ship, and it stopped firing. Hovering in space, electrical waves gave its hull a watery effect right up until its hull buckled and its core overloaded. The ship slammed into the ground, crumpling under its own weight.

Through the ball of fire that slowly moved up through the sky a stream of five Kree fighters appeared, chasing after the Bladeship and firing rapid-fire energy pulses at it.

*****

The fleet of Ghargonian ships had put themselves between Ghargonia Prime and an armada of Kree ships. There must have been a hundred at least, all flying casually towards the planet in a loose formation. Ghargonian ships outnumbered them, but even a single Kree ship could probably wipe them out.

Kelrod gulped as he saw them. He looked over at his second in command, who shrugged.

"All ships, this is General Kelrod of the Ghargant Guard," he announced. "Engage the enemy. Prevent them from reaching Ghargonia Prime at all costs. You must not fail."

The ships slowly pushed forward, leaving about fifty behind to hold the line.

*****

"Woo hoo!" Third shouted. The Bladeship pulled up at the last minute, leaving the last Kree fighter to slam into a tree, exploding and knocking the tree over.

"Last one, let's get home," First said, pressing buttons. The Bladeship came about and soared out of the planet's atmosphere.

"Look down there," Third pointed out the window. Another Kree capital ship was following them into space, gaining on them.

"We don't have time to deal with them now," First said. "I have to figure out if the artificial singularity generator still works... deploy some maskers. Ah, here we go..."

A small hole opened ahead of the Bladeship, and it passed into it. The hole closed behind it, leaving the Kree ship to veer off, apparently disappointed.



"Impure... onesss..." a voice said in Ghargonian. Third span around, to see a Kree. It was... humanoid. Sort of. It had fingers and eyes anyway, which was more than the others had. One of its arms was raised, aiming some sort of device at them.

"Holy Krak..." Third reached for his pistol, but the Kree put the device against his head.

"Ceassse your movementsss," the Kree said, hissing. "Die otherwissse..."

Third put his hand in the air, giving up for now.

"I didn't know you ugly freks could speak in any language, let alone ours," Third snapped. "You've not been very polite you know."

"Sssilenccce," the Kree said. "The Impure Onesss will die, but firssst you will stop thisss ssship."

"I can't," First said. "Not until we enter normal space."

"Then you will dessstroy this ssship," the Kree said. It's voice lacked emotion, but it was purposeful. "The Impure Onesss mussst die."

"We're impure huh?" Third snorted. "Funny, I thought for a minute there you were an overgrown brown bug with an intelligence problem."

"Sssilenccce," the Kree repeated. "We are the Pure Onesss, you are the Impure Onesss. We will purge the universsse of impuritiesss as our genetic coding dictatesss."

"You what?" Third said. "Genetic coding? What are you on about, bugface?"

"We are perfect lifeformsss," the Kree said. "Created to be perfect by the Firssst Raccce, your raccce, to excel in battle. We were created to ensssure the dominanccce of the One Pure Raccce. But the Firssst Raccce are also Impure. So now you mussst be dessstroyed alssso, or we will fail."

"Oh great," Third nodded. "Just great. So you're our fault now, huh? Well you can shove your perfection down your throat, we're not destroying this ship. And you're coming with us."

"The Impure Onesss are weak, you will do as I command or I will kill you and do it anyway," the Kree said simply. Third nodded at the Gerash who put an arm around the Kree's neck, pulling it to the ground. As it kicked its legs and screamed in angry protest, it dropped its weapon. Third caught it and pointed it at the Kree just in time to see the Gerash thrown down the corridor and the Kree stand up to attack them.

"Impure one," Third mimicked. "Stop or I'll kill you. I suppose this weapon will kill you. Although I suppose this weapon was built by us too."

"Our weaponsss and shipsss are of our own desssign," the Kree clicked. "We left thisss galaxy in sssearch of better materialsss, so that we might destroy our creatorsss as they commanded usss to."

"Right..." Third nodded. "I'm going to take this thing and stick it in a forcefield. We can 'interrogate' it later... man, the Gerash will have fun figuring out how to hurt your kind..."

"Got you," First nodded, just as the black of the hole they travelled through gave way to stars and a nearby planet. "I'm going to kill some of his fr... wow... that's a lot of friends. Get back up here as soon as you're done."



The Bladeship had emerged into normal space just behind the Kree armada. Almost immediately, they moved from a docile state to a frenzied state, nearly every ship jolting into action. Most of the fleet moved to tackle the Ghargonian fleet, but a few ships moved for the Bladeship.

"Ghargonian Fleet Commander, this is the First of the First Shocktrooper Batallion," he announced. "This is Bladeship 1, an anti-Kree gunship. Any ships with laser-based weapons modify your frequencies to those I am submitting; it should overload Kree ships and cause them to auto-destruct."

"This is General Kelrod," a voice came through. Kelrod was Gorbgan's only competitor to the position of Ghargon, although he never formally challenged him. He was a powerful man and a good leader, though even he must have been having some trouble with the Kree. "Where'd you get... never mind. Can you help us with that thing?"

"I think so sir," First called. "Don't rely on us though, we can only take so many hits before we're as vulnerable as your ships."

"Acknowledged, let's get busy," Kelrod said.

Third came up and sat down in the co-pilot seat. "You heard him sir, let's get busy."



The Bladeship started firing. Energy reserves were not a worry, given how close they were to the homeworld. Brilliant white blasts streaked across space, though most missed their targets. The Kree ships were surprisingly manoeuvrable, ducking and diving when they needed to.

The Bladeship wasn't without agility either, as it started spinning and weaving as the Kree ships unleashed their own weapons. First thought they were done for when one blast hit their shield, but it held. The Kree ships had completed their pass, but the Bladeship wasn't done yet. Without stopping or altering its course, it span around and started firing into the Kree's rear. Ships started exploding as the blasts finally hit home.

A few clicks away, the Ghargonian fleet was divided. Some of the older ships engaged the Kree. As their weapons hit the Kree ships three or four times, they exploded. More ships dropped away, reinforcing the defensive lines; presumably the ships that lacked laser weapons. The Kree were having success though; ship after ship of the Ghargonian fleet was cracked open like an egg, spilling her crew into space.

The Bladeship finished with its share of the armada, and sped over to the main bulk of the fighting. Her weapons tore through the Kree ships as effectively as Kree ships tore through Ghargonian ships. The Kree ships started to do something they hadn't done before... pull away. Dodging energy blasts, one of the Kree vessels flew into a black hole, disappearing. Several other vessels did the same. Those that remained did so to ensure their friends got away safely, as the Bladeship ran rings around them, pounding them with lightning. The two remaining Kree ships finished off the last of the laser-equipped Imperium vessels, and turned their attentions to the Bladeship just in time to be hit by her energy blasts. They span out of control before blasting to pieces.

The Bladeship span, streaking through the fireballs as she turned to join the remainder of the fleet.



Gorbgan sat in his throne, surprised when he saw the message.
A brown head with two eyes snapped its sharp jaws and appeared to scowl at him.

"We will return, Impure Onesss," the creature hissed. Then the screen went blank.

Gorbgan looked up at the two shock troopers. One of them stood on a bandaged leg, but showed no weakness.

"You have saved the Imperium," Gorbgan said in a low rumble. "First of the First, what is your given name?"

"I am Trekkor, my lord," First said.

"From now on, you will be General Trekkor of the First Shocktrooper Division," Gorbgan nodded. "Third, you are now the First."

"Thank you, my lord," First bowed his head. Third shrugged and also bowed. First nodded and walked out of the room, followed closely by Third.

“I wonder how our friends on the base are doing?” Third asked.

“Attempt to contact them,” First said. “If they do not respond, fear the worst and send in the GMS Kraken to annex the planet.”

Third nodded, and walked off. He would find the large communications complex in the East Military Headquarters and send messages in various frequencies.



First stood before the energy field. The Kree slammed itself against it repeatedly, until finally giving up.

“Impure Onesss have not won,” the Kree hissed. “The Pure Onesss will leave the galaxy, find better waysss of killing, and then return more powerful than ever. You have won nothing here!”

“We have you,” First nodded. He now wore an officer’s uniform, which was a black metal suit with large shoulders, but it wasn’t as bulky as a trooper’s armour. It would only resist light weapons fire (OOC: Cardassian uniform, only metal with flexible joints). “That is a small victory. We can experiment on you, find out what makes your ugly species work, and find ways of killing you too.”

“Irrelevant, I will die of my own choiccce,” the Kree said. “You will die ssslowly and painfully asss the Pure Onesss wipe your filthy presssenccce from exissstenccce; you ssshall know only pain in your final hoursss. We are coming, and nobody can ssstop usss… not even our creatorsss.”

With that, the Kree stood back and started convulsing violently. It fell to the floor, its eyes shut and its mouth open slightly.

“Damn,” First growled, slamming a fist into the metal wall beside the holding field. “Take this thing to the science building, see if it’s of any use at all. And get the engineers looking at the Bladeship, find out how to make more.”

He left, having new assignments to prepare for.