NationStates Jolt Archive

A popular myth that persists amongst humans is that humans reached to the stars in a spirit of optimism.

This is a clear lie. Humans ventured into space to gain advantage over other humans in military and technological terms.

Essentially, humans are in space because we want to find better ways of killing each other.

In this spirit, the Pact of Iron (a sacred and indissolvable union of Atopiana and Skgorria) has found an unoccupied planetoid in the middle of unoccupied space and has decided to open it as a penal colony on the surface for all governments who wish to dispose of their more troublesome criminals and undesirables.

The planet itself is roughly the size of Earth and is teeming in plants and annimals, but is seemingly devoid of intelligent life. Closer examination by a PoI Survey team revealed that something vicious existed on the surface, judging by the screams of the team just before they died and the fact they were found shredded by a follow-up unit. Following a few deaths, the following notable animals have been classified.

Kh'rask - sentient liquid rock forms that hunt humans to gain essential nutrients. They defecate diamonds and are relatively rare, keeping to set territories.

Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beasts - named by the unfortunate who spotted and encountered them. These are mobile plantforms that like our calcium-rich bone matter, so have a tendancy to use their spiky tendrils to rip us apart to get at our bones.

D'rasii - calcium-shelled land crabs which are four meters tall and encased in six-inch thick bone carapace. Preyed on by the Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beasts.

Pollovi - floating ballon-like creatures that subsist by consuming molecules in the atmosphere. They give off a coloured gas that is poisonous to humans and will kill if too much is inhaled. D'rasii seem to be immune to this, and hunt the Pollovi extensivley.

The Schlurp - a large tentacled creature that inhabits the waterways and seas of this world. Named for the ominous it makes when it grabs humans by the orifices and drags them underwater to be violated and devoured.

There also exists a large variety of animals and plants that have not been classified, we in the PoI are not interested in useless biology.

The planet has one landing zone, a domed fortress with one airlock leading to the surface guarded at all times. The walls are 4 metres thick of durasteel and duracrete supported by multiple shields and physical supports in the inside. Shuttles and fighters are let in through a retractable roof. It is garrisoned by a mixed Division of Mechanised Infantry and Ubersoldaten and a wing of fighters and bombers.

Prisoners are tagged with InfiDan tags then cast out onto the surface and left to fend for themselves. They are not harmed in any way by PoI troops or personnel, but once cast out of the landing zone they are never allowed to return. Additional supplies can be bartered from by approaching the outside of the landing zone with Kh'rask diamonds...if the guards are feeling in a good mood.

In space, several hundred of the Pact of Iron Fleet stand vigilant, with multiple planet-killing weapons pointed at the surface in case of rebellion and riot.

The Pact of Iron offers the following options for prisoners:

The Night Of Their Lives - 400 dollars - dumped outside the landing zone and left for the night, then retrieved in the morning. Prisoner's safety is not guranteed.
A New Home - 1,000 dollars - shipped to the world and booted out to live on the planet until they die.
Detention - 10,000 dollars - shipped to the world and booted out to live on the planet until their sentence is up (1,000 extra per year after the 10th), recovery optional at another one-time cost of 10,000"
Extermination - 100,000 dollars. The subject is coated with Kh'rask male pheremones and dumped in a male's territory.

Disclaimer: Death is not the responsibility of Pact of Iron Penal Services Ltd

"So this is our new assignment," grunted Governor-General Frank to the behemoth who commanded her Guard Division, Storm-General Beckenbauer, "well, I suppose we must make the most of it. See the troops to their quarters, Storm-General. I'm going to watch the first assignment of prisoners get shoved out of the airlock..."

OOC: come on people, 50% discount on the first delivery! Simply dock with our orbiting station and we'll transfer prisoners and do the rest..

IC:
"As you will" the Storm-General confirmed. He turned his mighty bulk and moved over through the new command centre, his metal feet clanging on the dull floor.. Technicians and soldiers alike turned to look at the Storm-General in horror and awe, ceasing their duties and tasks.
"Shhh, that's Beckenbauer"
"What? The hero of Krandor?"
"Yep, but keep your voice down."
"To go from glory to that...what must it have done to him?"

Here I am, the feared and respected Storm-General Beckenbauer he mused as he walked. I once walked as the most powerful General in all Skgorria, now what am I? I am but a walking monster, dependent on machines to walk and breathe! What sort of man am I? Beckenbauer ceased his internal whining when he came face to face with a company of Ubersoldaten standing at attention. They snapped to attention and raised their arms in salute.
Then again, if I am to stride the battlefield with soldiers like these, things are not so bad....

OOC: Ubersoldaten look like the Ubersoldiers from Return to Castle Wolfenstein

OOC: Ubersoldaten look like the Ubersoldiers from Return to Castle Wolfenstein

OOC: But better! :D

IC:

Crossing to the view-screen of her room, Governor-General Frank stood and watched as a panoramic view of her planet scrolled past. Soon, the prisoners would be released into this deathworld, released to survive if they could, and die if they could not.

"Only those with force, an the strength of will to use it, will survive. A truly admirable state of being will be reached by these people. I almost envy them," she muttered, "and then I remember that I have a world, and they do not."

Now we march the prisoners outside Beckenbauer commanded. The company advanced to holding cubes and waited for the time-delay to release the prisoners. Soon the cubes hissed open and prisoners fell into the harsh artifical light, temporarily dazzled by the bright lights after their time in near-darkness.
On your feet! Beckenbauer bellowed and the prisoners struggled up. The Storm-General reminded himself this batch was full of cripples and other such pathetic specimens that the Pact had gathered together to be disposed of.
Out of the lock! he bellowed, and the Ubersoldaten began herding the prisoners towards the interior lock which had been opened. Passing through the wire and other defenses, the three hundred prisoners stood in the middle section of lock. They shambled and huddled against the far door as the menacing figures of the Skgorrian troops strode in. Beckenbauer opened a link
Ma'am Frank, request permission to exit the LZ

"Permission granted with pleasure, Storm-General."

Laughing to herself, Frank switched the view screen to display images of the airlock and the Outside...

The sound of her voice was a soothing balm on his raging torment, her words were spoken with the power and strength that was everything he idolised and adored, everything he had been raised to cherish.

Everything that was now all gone from him.

The calm faded, and was replaced by a rage. Beckenbauer harnessed it, chanelled it, let it turn into something focused, something pure and restrained. He watched as the interior door closed and the holding area fall into darkness. The prisoners were growing more and more worried, then gasped as the exterior door grinded open.
Out, now! Beckenbauer commanded, activating his chainsabre and letting it roar to give weight to his words. Soon the prisoners had scrabbled outside onto the alien world, staying close to the dome but backing away as the Ubersoldaten exited...

"Oh, Storm-General," began Frank, "make sure you impress the fatal nature of their sentence on a few of them, will you?"

As you will M'am Beckenbauer winced at how perfect her words were, it felt wrong that one such as she was speaking to one like him!

Beckenbauer unleashed his rage by firing a plasma bolt into the face of a young mother cradling a baby. The headless body sprawled backwards, and Beckenbauer hit the falling baby with another shot, turning the infant to cinders. The other prisoners screamed, but did not move for fear of punishment.

You are all going to die on this world unless you prove yourselves the Storm-General snarled. No-one will move unless I say so. You there, with no arms! he pointed his weapon at a man who had no limb after his shoulders, Clap your hands and you may live. The man glanced at both of his stubs and sighed.

Maybe this will be fun after all...

OOC: for the worst of the worst wouldn't just killing them out right or using them in horrible experimentations keep crime much lower?

Ah, thought Frank, senseless brutality with a dash of sadism to cow them and keep them in line just like unruly sheep. Excellent. I can work with this man!

Aloud, she said: "Well done, Storm-General. If you could move them to that little hillock over there and explain the rules, that would be excellent."

OOC: for the worst of the worst wouldn't just killing them out right or using them in horrible experimentations keep crime much lower?

OOC: the whole point is that we want these people to die in horrible ways! Why don't you send a prisoner and see if they can survive? :P

IC:

Beckenbauer had his company form a triangle around the prisoners, with a platoon at each side. They then marched up to on top of the hillock where they were able to get a good view of the landscape. It was flat but full of greenery and large open bodies of liquid. The main plant seemed to be a tall grass that came up to the waist of an average person, but there were also trees and other strange plants. Creatures galloped and slithered all around, and the prisoners were not comfortable.

You may not re-enter the LZ Beckenbauer informed the prisoners you will die here. If you find any diamonds then bring them back here and maybe you can barter for some supplies. Now go and die. The Ubersoldaten then stepped away and all marched off, leaving the prisoners standing silent. As Beckenbauer marched away, he heard someone crying.
Music to my ears...

"Governor-General," began her aide, "should we not have given them the supplies that were in the shuttles?"
"No, Jansen, we should not have done. Those supplies are needed by us. The prisoners will live or die according to their strength of will."
"Very well, Governor-General. I'll have the supplies moved to General Stores at once."

OOC: the whole point is that we want these people to die in horrible ways! Why don't you send a prisoner and see if they can survive? :P

OOC; because all my prisoners are all horrible mutants that eat raw human flesh and stand at least 4 meters tall.(that you genetic modification.) they also look like the hell knights from doom 3. Imagine all of your bones and flesh tearing, stretching to the point of wear you almost double in height, your body changes, your eyes fall out of your head, and are grown over, your head elongates, out of your arms grow razor sharp blades that are a meter long. your skin becomes like flexible bone.

OOC; because all my prisoners are all horrible mutants that eat raw human flesh and stand at least 4 meters tall.(that you genetic modification.) they also look like the hell knights from doom 3. Imagine all of your bones and flesh tearing, stretching to the point of wear you almost double in height, your body changes, your eyes fall out of your head, and are grown over, your head elongates, out of your arms grow razor sharp blades that are a meter long. your skin becomes like flexible bone.

OOC: Then they'll fit right in! :D

For just 5,000 dollars we can drop them into the atmosphere to create stunning meteorite displays. :)

OOC; because all my prisoners are all horrible mutants that eat raw human flesh and stand at least 4 meters tall.(that you genetic modification.) they also look like the hell knights from doom 3. Imagine all of your bones and flesh tearing, stretching to the point of wear you almost double in height, your body changes, your eyes fall out of your head, and are grown over, your head elongates, out of your arms grow razor sharp blades that are a meter long. your skin becomes like flexible bone.


OOC: then you can't see shit :P

OOC: then you can't see shit :P

OOC: Without eyes, that statement is quite true. Blind monsters! They'd die within an hour!

OOC: then you can't see shit :P

they use a kind of sonar type wave to "see" it shows them what's infront of them they emit a loud low roar that can deafen you.

they use a kind of sonar type wave to "see" it shows them what's infront of them they emit a loud low roar that can deafen you.

Come on, let's have a fight. 10 of these things on 10 of my Ubersoldaten?

Come on, let's have a fight. 10 of these things on 10 of my Ubersoldaten?

My GDP is on Skgorria's Ubersoldaten.

OOC: fine then. 10 of my more monsters from hell agaist your uberidon'tgivefucks.

OOC: fine then. 10 of my more monsters from hell agaist your uberidon'tgivefucks.

OOC: Your Hellmonsters are doomed. :)

OOC: no need to swear, swearing is a sin and I fear for your soul my friend. Let Jesus into your life

Get the rest of the men inside, me and 1st Squad have a mission to perform. Beckenbauer instructed his sargeant, who merely nodded and began herding the leviathans back inside.

1st Squad on me called Beckenbauer and began to accelerate to a run, the rest of the squad following close behind. Soon they would be on the battle plain...

"This should be interesting," said Frank, "Screen - show Storm-General Beckenbauer's viewpoint. I want to see through his eyes..."

OOC; how should we do this? i was think that the planetiod is a storage center and a power failure kills all but 10 and they wake up.

OOC: as long as those 10 reach the co-ordinates that's fine. I don't want anymore on the planet as this is a nice little hell-hole just by itself.

IC:
Query: Visual Data Steam 0001 Transmission Reuqest
Yes/No
Yes
Data Transmission Begins....

The visual data began to be transmitted back to the LZ. It showed Beckenbauer's vision, which saw the plains emerging and long grass being trampled underfoot. Around him was this grass and a few trees, but for the most part the plain was flat and empty...

Under the plain, ten hell knights moved in a pack, finding their way to the surface, they walked for many days and nights, until they came to a place where the soil was thin, and soft. With a brief exchange of roars they started to attack the roof of the tunnel until it caved inward, the monstrosity's dug out of the dirt and climbed to the surface. They smelled man flesh. The largest of them looked to the sky emitted a roar that could be heard for miles.

OOC: are you within visual range of me?

Beckenbauer halted his run as he heard the unearthly yell.
Eyes up, I want a perimeter! The Ubersoldaten clumped into a circle That was no monster we've seen yet.
Storm-General! barked one of the Ubersoldaten I have a contact on my scanner...it's large sir.
Ready weapons! Beckenbauer ordered, and 10 plasma cannons whined as they charged to activation.
So it begins...

Excellent, action at last, mused Frank, I really must get this bunker redecorated. Bare white walls are far too ... dull.

OOC: are you within visual range of me?

OOC: not yet.They move in burst speeds of up to 89 Km/h.

IC:

The creatures broke up with the largest circling around, and 2 on each side of the soilders, leaving 5 to charge the Ubersoldaten head on. The 5 rushed in first. They were fast. With in minutes they had reached the soilders. The dove into the formation with claws out slashing and halking into the Ubersoldaten.

Incoming at 3 o'clock! called one of the Ubersoldaten as a group of creatures came charging across the plains. Panic was absent from his voice, panic was another emotion that was lost along with the body when one became Ubersoldat.
Charlie, open fire! [B] called Beckenbauer. Five plasma cannons spat hot death towards the hellmonsters as they closed across the plain, firing constantly.
[B]We're being flanked! called another Ubersoldaten, Delta ready for CQB! The five Ubersoldaten of Delta fired their plasma cannons.

Thinking at the speed of several computers, Beckenbauer saw that he was in an ideal tacitcal situation. The enemy was charging him across open ground, with no ranged weaponry.

OOC: RP casulaties please, and do remember you are charging head-long into plasma across an open plain

The tough hide of the first creature was burned through. Instead of discouraging it, it roared in anger and by this time was with in arms length and slashed the closed one to him. The slash was at head level. Three of the creates fell to their demise and collapsed to the ground.

The Ubersoldat looked down at the creature's slash and calmly took it on the helmet. The claws smacked the adamantine armour and made a sizeable dent, causing the soldier to rock. However the creature had made a connection with the electrified armour and send a massive electric shock through the creature.

Mystified as to how little affect their plasma cannons had had on the enemy, the other Ubersoldaten powered up their chainsabres that roared to life. They hacked down and kicked at their smaller foe, one Ubersoldaten falling with many wounds to his chest.

OOC: how tall are your Ubersoldaten?

The Chainsabers slowly cut through the thickhide and like the plasma just made the monsters angry. With a low slash aimed of the legs of several Ubersoldaten. The largest one came in frombehind and started attacking with stabing movements. After being cut into it gave a 250 decible roar that could make a normal man deaf.

OOC: Oh, a mere 16', and kindly don't ignore the electric shock. It's enought to kill an elephant and happends every time you touch one of my Ubersoldaten

IC: the roar did nothing to the Ubersoldaten, as they were not normal men. They were barely men at all, they were machines consctructed with a living heart to die for an Empire that cared nothing for them.

But that didn't matter now, all that mattered now was the fight. Kill or be killed, Social Darwinism in its purest form.

The low slashes being aimed at the Ubersoldaten exposed the beasts even more, allowing the Ubersoldaten to strike at the heads of the beasts and their arms. However one Ubersoldaten was knocked over after his leg was severed at the right knee, he fell without a sound.

OOC: 16 foot! then there are almost the same size. 5 meters=16'3".

With the necks of the monsters exposed another four fell but not before taking swipes at the chests of the Ubersoldaten. The largest of them reached out with his massive hands and tired to grab the heads of two Ubersoldaten. If he succeed he would smash them together. The other two monsters took swipes at the backs of the Ubersoldaten. The cuts had driven them insane. They lowered their shoulders and charged the Ubersoldaten. If they knocked them down they would rip them apart.

OOC: 16 foot! then there are almost the same size. 5 meters=16'3".

OOC: That's interesting, as you previously said that they stand "4 meters tall"

1m = 3'
4m = 12'
5m = 15'

So even at 5m they're 1' smaller than the Ubersoldaten. :)

OOC: That's interesting, as you previously said that they stand "4 meters tall"

1m = 3'
4m = 12'
5m = 15'

So even at 5m they're 1' smaller than the Ubersoldaten. :)

OOC:I said atleast 4 meters. and you forgot that 1 meters=1'3" so 1'3" times 5 equals 16'3".

OOC:I said atleast 4 meters. and you forgot that 1 meters=1'3" so 1'3" times 5 equals 16'3".

OOC: 1.3 x 5 = 6.5 - not 16.3. :p

Did you mean 3.1? In which case: 15'3", not 16'3"

OOC:3 foot 3. my bad.

OOC: why must you continue to ignore the shocks? Then I ignore your backslashes

IC:

As the creature reached for the heads of two Ubersoldaten, they threw up their chainsabres in an attempt to block the arms. They also fired their plasma cannons, dangerous at close range but they needed all the help they could get.

With 7 of the enemy down and only 2 of the Ubersoldaten on the floor, Beckenbauer ordered the men to move around. Seeing the charge, he send a thought-com
Let them take you over.The two Ubersoldaten made a wild swipe at the enemy, but the impact sent the two troops sprawling. The Ubersoldaten tried to grab the beasts and pull them over. However the backslashes had taken a toll, and another trooper had collapsed, circuitry misfiring and setting fire to his insides.

OOC: why must you continue to ignore the shocks? Then I ignore your backslashes

IC:

As the creature reached for the heads of two Ubersoldaten, they threw up their chainsabres in an attempt to block the arms. They also fired their plasma cannons, dangerous at close range but they needed all the help they could get.

With 7 of the enemy down and only 2 of the Ubersoldaten on the floor, Beckenbauer ordered the men to move around. Seeing the charge, he send a thought-com
Let them take you over.The two Ubersoldaten made a wild swipe at the enemy, but the impact sent the two troops sprawling.

OOC: that's what killed the 4.

OOC:3 foot 3. my bad.

OOC: Jolly good, carry on. :)

OOC: that's what killed the 4.

Ah I see, editing post!

How utterly inefficient. We employ our criminals in productive work, our criminals are spending seven hours a day clearing land for biodomes on the planet Muse for the Ming Commercial House, RFS, and spend three hours a day in psychological rehabilitation groups led by the Department of Mental Hygiene. They will be rehabilitated or be a permanent labor pool.

The largest of the monsters bit down on the Ubersoldaten's head. With razor sharp fangs and acidic saliva, the creature would crush the helmet. The ones that were charging the enemy started to rip and shred their pinned opponents.

In British Londinium, we're for brevity, and toss prisoners into giant blenders.

How utterly inefficient. We employ our criminals in productive work, our criminals are spending seven hours a day clearing land for biodomes on the planet Muse for the Ming Commercial House, RFS, and spend three hours a day in psychological rehabilitation groups led by the Department of Mental Hygiene. They will be rehabilitated or be a permanent labor pool.

Well good for you, however Ma'am Frank does rather enjoy watching criminals and the impure suffer at the hands of the wilderness

In British Londinium, we're for brevity, and toss prisoners into giant blenders.

We are most intrigued about these blenders, please tell us more...

On the plains

As the two Ubersoldaten on the floor were torn into, they kept a tight grip on the beasts, sendign huge ammounts of electricity into them. Meanwhile Beckenbauer and 2 other Ubersoldaten were firing with their plasma cannons into the exposed backs of the beasts.

The head of the Ubersoldaten being enclosed by the beast was utterly crushed, depriving him of his visual and audio sensors. It didn't stop him from ramming his sword into the beast, setting it on full power. Meanwhile the Ubersoldat's partner continued to hack at the beast with his chainsword as the Ubersoldat who was now missing a portion of his leg sat up and started firing at the beasts pinning his comrades.

How utterly inefficient. We employ our criminals in productive work, our criminals are spending seven hours a day clearing land for biodomes on the planet Muse for the Ming Commercial House, RFS, and spend three hours a day in psychological rehabilitation groups led by the Department of Mental Hygiene. They will be rehabilitated or be a permanent labor pool.

Pah! A mere seven hours? 20 hours work and 4 hours inspection and eating makes much more sense.

The last of the creatures fell. How ever the lab the came from had its power restored.......

The Lab came back on line And its Central AI;Oswell rebooted his systems and did a system check on the facility.
/\
Inventory:
Lab creations:
1,200 Hell knights
5,600 Hell hounds
24 Kings(OOC:basically 50 foot tall Hellknights)
20,000 defensive drones(OOC:armed with 2 50 mm coil guns,8 E11 Blaster rifles)

Current Inventory
1,190 Hellknights
5,600 Hellhounds
24 Kings
20,000 defensive drones

\/Inventory check complete/\

Facility check:
Entrance to old mining tunnels breached.

Conclusion: Hellknights escaped during power failure.
response: Call for retrieval team to recover missing Hellknights.


A company of Imperial guard was deploying to the Planetoid.



Captian Smith was breifing the men of Company Arrow.

"We've been making some very badass monsters over at this planetoid and some have escaped. We need to get them under control and returned to the lab. Got it?"

"Hell yes sir!"

They deployed in four assualt shuttles and landed 5 kilometers away. A short jog for Arrow Company.

They circled the Ubersoldaten.

Captain Smith shouted," Put down your weapons. We want to bodies."

OOC: sorry for the delay, but my internet has been cut at home so I'm using university ones. Posting will be very irregular...however I do have various things to say:

1. I have no problems with you having a large monster lab on this planet, this could get rather fun. I really enjoyed the skirmish we had and it would be awesome if we could carry this on.

2. As stated in the opening post, there is a fleet comprised of hundreds of ships in orbit. I think they would spot a whole company of troops trying to land :p I have no problem in you coming down to the surface, but let's RP it properly. If it was you in my situation, would you just let anyone land on your plaent?

I will make an IC post as soon as I can after you have responded to what I say.

"Well," said Frank, as she swung herself onto her desk, "that was unexpected. I shall have to order the Ubersoldaten to conduct a sweep of the area and see what turns up. Oh, and to bring one of those things in for dissection. Now, what to do with the fort..."

GENERAL ORDER NUMBER THREE:

- All Ubersoldaten subunits to sweep a 4km square area of ground each, in a pattern about Fort Neu Io.
- All other units to go to Red Alert.
- Science Teams Seven through Nine to inspect the corpses under armed guard in Contaminant Rooms Twelve A-H.
- All prisoners to be herded away from the Fort.
- All undergrowth to be burned away to the rock within 20km of Fort Neu Io.
- Air assets to patrol the skies at all times.

Action! Unity!

OOC: sorry for the delay, but my internet has been cut at home so I'm using university ones. Posting will be very irregular...however I do have various things to say:

1. I have no problems with you having a large monster lab on this planet, this could get rather fun. I really enjoyed the skirmish we had and it would be awesome if we could carry this on.

2. As stated in the opening post, there is a fleet comprised of hundreds of ships in orbit. I think they would spot a whole company of troops trying to land :p I have no problem in you coming down to the surface, but let's RP it properly. If it was you in my situation, would you just let anyone land on your plaent?

I will make an IC post as soon as I can after you have responded to what I say.


OOC: Ok, I'll edit my post. I've haven't read the opening post. how should i handle this? I can't send in a full fleet because i'm at war.

OOC: Depends, do you want to capture the planetoid, secure the lab or destroy the contents?

If you want to capture the planetoid...then come on and have a go. Bear in mind I have planet-busters pointed at the surface

If you want to secure the lab, then have some ships arrive and explain the situation. Naturally both Skgorrians and Atopians alike will be suspicious..but I'm sure we could work something out.

If you want to destroy the contents, then send us a message ICly and tell us about the lab. We'll do the rest.

Of course, if you'd rather have the lab's inhabitants escape and start causing merry hell on the surface, that could be fun.

OOC: Of course want to secrure the Lab.

there several things that are a hgih prority that i secure the Lab.

Project Flood- creation of the flood xenoform from halo.
Project Hell- created the monsters that you were attacked with.

Skgorria, looky:

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=510638

You've been glassed :)

OOC: Of course want to secrure the Lab.

there several things that are a hgih prority that i secure the Lab.

Project Flood- creation of the flood xenoform from halo.
Project Hell- created the monsters that you were attacked with.

OOC: then send some ships to orbit and start talking to the PoI flotilla up there

IC:
The last of the beasts fell after multiple cannon hits to the face and collapsed backwards, sizzling as it began to cool from the intense heat of the plasma blasts.
You, check the wounded! Beckenbauer adressed the nearest Ubersoldaten. As the soldier checked the fallen troops, Beckenbauer and the others formed a loose ring that encircled the casualties, keeping their sensors prime to maximum range. The Ubersoldaten with no head reverted to his Emergency Action drills...and promptly sat down.
What are these things? wondered Beckenbauer as he kicked one of the beasts to make sure it was dead. If there are more of them, we're in for some trouble...
Sir! reported the soldier responsible for checking the wounded, Four standing, one with half a leg missing and one with a crushed head, but otherwise fine. 4 dead. Shall I call for casevac?
Do so, growled Beckenbauer as he raged internally. Intolerable! 4 of my men dead against a mere 10 of these things! Beckenbauer ceased his raging as he heard the whine of a transport shuttle nearing the scene...

OOC: I will just delete my old post.


General Steven Johnson, Head of 1010102 Office of National Intelligence, was sitting in his office when a call came in.

"Sir, I am getting a report that several Hell knights have escaped onto the surface of the Planetoid, Atimas((OOC: my name for it.)) There is a large fleet in orbit that we have not yet encountered. I think we should send a ship to the planetoid and ask that we get control of the lab Back."

"Send The Frigate Albatross. They just got back from a recon mission into rebel space."

"I will have them leave with most haste."


The frigate jumped into the system and the Capitan, Jack Johnson sent a message in the clear.



This is Capitan Johnson of the 1010102 Empire. We have a Lab under the planet and several of the test subjects have esacaped. We would like to send a team down to recover them. Please respond.

Orbit

The appearance of an unidentified and unexpected frigate on scanners as it entered the system caused a variety of reactions amongst the PoI flotilla. The senior scanner technician onboard the Golan-II station Gates of Berlin spat a moutful of decaf all over the screen in surprise.
"I have an incoming frigate, no reading on IFF!" she called, slamming the button marked ALERT. Sirens blared throughout the station and the crew scrambled to alert status. Shields were raised and weapons were powered up, and the warning was transmitted to the fleet.

On board the Sovereign-class Star Destroyer SS-Zionbane, named after the ancient and illustrious Skgorrian SS division, the captain and crew reacted in a similar manner to that of the Golan-II station, apart from that they picked up the message sent by the frigate.
"What is your response sir?" asked the First Officer.
"Damned if I know," grumbled Captain Petersen, "we'll tell them to hold position whilst we contact Governor-General Frank for orders. Has the flash-warning reached the surface?"
"Yes sir," confirmed the First Officer.
"Good," the Captain smiled as he turned to stare out the viewport at the frigate, "Frank will have her hands full and be rather stressed. She looks devilishly attractive when under pressure."

Capitan Johnson, you will hold your position until we have consulted our Governor-General on the matter. Do not attempt to move to the surface.

With a tearing silence in the fabric of reality, the reinforcement vessel arrived, punching in-system from fold:space and driving hard for the Skgorrian fleet.

The 270km long bulk of the ASV Victory, an Ultra-class Star Destroyer, thundered at .7C to the Skgorrians, disgorging fifteen thousand TIE Defenders, seven Star Destroyers, and a World Devastator to escort it as it bore down on the prison world.

On board, a consignment of a million prisoners... and a reinforced Army Group of the Atopian Military.

"Excellent," murmured Frank, "the reinforcements I asked for..."

Orbit

"It's the Atopians!" called the sensor officer, and the bridge crew cheered.
Wish I could get one of those Petersen hoped, before swinging into action.
"Inform those...whoevers that the Atopians are not hostile. Also contact the Victory for orders and inform them of the situation, and have our fleet move to 'Ready' status." A transmission was sent out to the Atopians requesting orders, Petersen clearly knew he was outranked here.

Surface
Storm-General Beckenbauer disembarked the shuttle and moved across the landing pad, casting no glances backwards at his men. They did well in the face of such abominations he thought, glancing quickly down at his arm and looking at the claw marks on his normally-pristine armour. We must take drastic measures if we are to survive. The Ubersoldat General made his way through past the tightly ordered HabBlocks to Frank's command centre. He strode through the open doors, past several astonished adjutants and secretaries and went to knock on her door. Unfortunately he had not disengaged his combat protocols yet, and his massively boosted strength sent the door flying off the hinges into the room...

Orbit

"Fleet Captain-General," began the Commsman, "the Skgorrians are hailing us and requesting orders!"
"Respond as follows: 'System to be sealed off, planet to be quarantined, all non-Pact personnel to be barred from landing or leaving the planet. Tell the Garrison and Fleet to initiate Protocol: Act of God.'"
"Aye aye," came the reply, "message sent, 03:57:23:89 ship's time."

Surface:

"Ah, Storm-General," smiled Frank, "so good of you to knock. Please, do come in. I have excellent news for you and your men."

Orbit

The orders were relayed and quickly Air Force craft moved into position to execute a quarantine. A solitary man in an EVA unit pushed the enormous battle station away from the planet, as the station's manuevering jets had broken. SS-Zionbane and her sister ships, SS-Hitlerjugend and SS-Landstorm Skgorria began preparing their cargo for a drop...

Surface

I live to serve, Governor-General Beckenbauer intoned, standing to attention and giving a salute. What a fine specimen of a woman she is thought Bekenbauer as he allowed himself one private thought before focusing on his duties

Orbit:

"Hail that unknown ship, and inform her to leave the system at once!"
"At your command, Captain-General."

Surface:

"Storm-General, your task is to create a ring of steel around this base to ensure that nothing gets in or out without my permission. Understood?"

[OOC: I know the thread says FT, but is MT allowed in this thread? I was thinking of using this place to train troops, it seems a lot like a cross between Rura Penthe from Star Trek and the Mars complex from Doom. If not, feel free to IC ignore the request, and I'll delete the post.]

DEMOCRATIC SOVIET REPUBLIC OF KAHANISTAN
Office of the President

Our government has become aware of a planetoid upon which there is dangerous alien life, and feels that this would be an excellent location for me to train the presidential guards in a live-fire exercise.

The idea is that we rotate in blocks of 300 guards for two-week combat and protection exercises. We have a total of 3,000, doubled from the norm of 1,500 owing to a Kraven attack. Therefore, half our force has only the training of normal sentries and infantry. This is where your planetoid comes in; we plan to set up a camp and venture out to hunt the dangerous creatures that dwell on your planetoid, training these recruits in the tactics required for their protection duties.

If accepted, we would wire $10,000 for a two-week detention for 300, plus $10,000 for recovery, for a total of $6,000,000.

Signed,
Major Mara K. Fulton,
Kahanistan Republic Guard,
Director, Presidential Security

Official Communique to the DEMOCRATIC SOVIET REPUBLIC OF KAHANISTAN

We agree that you may train troops on our planet, but under the following terms:
- all forces will be transported to and from the planet in Skgorrian Air Force craft
- your troops will be stationed in our LZ and placed under the command of PoI forces in case of an emergency

OOC: sorry for the late reply

DEMOCRATIC SOVIET REPUBLIC OF KAHANISTAN
Ministry of Defense

The Government of Kahanistan finds your terms acceptable; however, we must ask for a clear definition of what constitutes an "emergency" under which you would take command of our troops.

Further, I will advise here that our troops will not commit violations of international or Kahanistanian law while in your territory; we are merely acting to enhance the combat capabilities of our troops. Their commanders have training and orders specifically to disregard illegal orders, ever since we had a scandal about a year ago where some of our soldiers murdered prisoners of war.

Signed,
General Iosif N. Malakov,
Deputy Defense Minister

---

Al-Qamar, Kahanistan

Space Division Headquarters

Three hundred Republic Guards milled around the landing zone, awaiting the Skgorrian ship. They were dressed in solid gray urban combat fatigues, under which they wore SOV-3000 Dragon Skin body armor (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dragon_Skin_body_armor) and NBC gear. In the desert it was blisteringly hot, so the soldiers had a fire truck spraying them with cold water. Huge crates of supplies lay near the troops' position, filled with supplies, including MRE's, ammunition, fuel, special purpose armament, medical equipment, and other military supplies a soldier stranded on a barren rock for the next two weeks would need. They didn't know what the water was like there, so they also brought huge, heat-resistant containers filled with pure H2O.

The soldiers carried Tavor (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/IMI_Tavor_TAR-21) assault rifles, combat knives, heavy machine guns, and even a few Javelin anti-tank guns with them. They were clearly loaded for bear; they looked as if they were about to engage a Freekish division.

Official Communique to the DEMOCRATIC SOVIET REPUBLIC OF KAHANISTAN

In regards to your concerns, we have contacted the Ministry of Foreign Deployments and Occuptaion and the Skgorrian Foreign Ministry. An emergency is hereby defined as "a situation judged by both the civillian and military authorities to be extremely detrimental to the safety of all Pact of Iron and allied persons in the area."

I recognise that under these terms, being on the planetoid itself would constitute an emergency. It is extremely unlikely that an emergency will be declared, but it would be foolish not to be prepared.

Captain Petersen
Skgorrian Air Force, Battlegroup Vigilance

---------------------------

"3..2..1..Cut!" called out the navigator as he pulled the lever that deactivated the hyperdrive and took the Skgorrian GR-75 Assault Transport out of hyperspace. No longer did it seem that the transport was travelling through an endless tunnel of blue, but they found themselves approaching a planet.
"I don't know why you bother doing that," grumbled the pilot next to him, "it's not like we feel any kick from the exit, we have compensators set to full."
The navigator looked over and flashed the pilot his best smile,
"oh come of it, I'm just trying to have some fun."
"We're not here to have fun, are we?" Stated the pilot, "now shut up and start feeding co-ordinates so I can work out where the hell I'm supposed to be flying this thing." As the navigator started punching in data, he quickly glanced at his scanners.
"I'm not getting any readings on orbiting craft or navbuoys," the navigator stated. "A few orbiting satellites, but no warships. Rather odd..."
"I'll say," agreed the pilot, "might as well get Storm-Major Yuklig up here." Groaning, the navigator undid his restraints and stood up, then walked over to the nearest intercom unit.
Storm-Major Yuklig, this is the bridge. We have arrived and are beginning our descent. The navigator waited a few seconds before a reply came back.
Understood, I will be waiting in the loading area.
Shuddering, the navigator sat down. "He gives me the creeps," he informed the pilot as the view out of the bridge was filled with the planet as they descended.
"You'd be like that if you were a member of Storm Squad, I heard he was a member of Special Action Division," the pilot remarked as the navigator's jaw dropped.
"Special Action Division? We're carrying a man from Special Action Division onboard? Now I regret making that joke about how his boots aren't shiny enough..."
"Shut it," the pilot snapped, "I need to concentrate and bring this bucket in to land." Slowly levelling out and engaging the repulsors, the transport came down and landed at the specified co-ordinates.

Down in the loading area, Storm-Major Yuklig disengaged the latch and stepped out into the sun.
Damn its hot here he thought as he saw the endless piles of sand around him. Withdrawing a white hankerchief, he began to dab the sweat away from his forehead as he walked towards the nearest group of soldiers.
"Who's in charge then?" he demmanded

A pretty, slender woman with long dark hair stood up. "I am." She walked over to the Skgorrian commander. "Major Mara Fulton, Republic Guard." She was hardly the only woman with the group; it looked like the Kahanistanian military was fairly heterogeneous sexually. Behind her, two soldiers lifted one of the large crates of supplies and began to walk it toward the ship.

Fulton extended her hand. She had heard that the Skgorrians were Nazis, and did not generally trust them, but the Defense Ministry wanted the President's security to be trained on the planetoid to defend against threats, and the Skgorrians had the planetoid. She would have to deal with them on some level, and it wouldn't do to be excessively cold to them. She smiled, lightly.

Other soldiers began carrying more crates of gear to the ship, and the man leading them asked where the cargo hold was, in order to stow the gear for their arrival. There were about twenty large crates, mostly holding fuel and military ordnance, a few holding water, and one holding MRE's. Each crate weighed about a hundred kilograms and required two or three soldiers to lift.

The mood among the soldiers was mixed. Some were thrilled about the idea of going into space and checking out the new alien life out there. Belief in aliens was widespread in Kahanistan, but few believed in alien abductions, cattle mutilation, or any phenomena of that nature. Others were afraid of whatever it was that they had to travel millions of kilometers to train against. Some, like Fulton, had a general distrust of National Socialists. Yet more wondered what the government was thinking, sending them out to train in the middle of a war.

Taking the woman's hand, Yuklig shook it vigorously once then released it so he could salute her in the traditional way. Arm straight, 45 degrees, hand flat, clack heels together, just like in drill... thought Yuklig as he ran the drills through his head. He had to make sure this salute was perfect, first impressions were everything.

Yuklig wasn't too suprised to see a woman in uniform, Skgorrian women had been answering the Call for thousands of years. What he was most suprised about was that the Fuhrer was letting Bolsheviks train in Skgorrian territory, but he suspected that the Atopians had probably played a large part in allowing the Kahanistanis to travel to the planetoid: after all, the Governor-General was Atopian.

"Storm-Major Herman Yuklig, SS Special Action Division. Pleased to meet you Major," Yuklig stated with a smile. "I'll get the rear doors opened up and then we can be on your way." Reaching down into his breast pocket, Yuklig withdrew his comlink and thumbed it on.
"Pilot, get the rear doors open."
"As ordered, Storm-Major" came the reply and the huge rear doors of the transport opened outwards, revealing a cavernous interior. The navigator was standing by the doors and was directing the Kahanistanis as to where they should store their crates. As the Kahanistanis walked into the transport they would notice how large the bay was, and the more astute ones would work out that most of the ship was storage areas. There were no cabins or anything like that, just a sealed forward section contaning power generation and the bridge.

"Anyway Major," continued Yuklig, "when we get onboard I have a briefing about the Planetoid for your troops. I'll give it to them unless you want to want your troops to go in cold."

Bridge, ASV Victory:

"Captain-General," called the Navigation Commodore, "we are to be aware and ready for a GR-75 entering realspace sometime in the next five to six hours. Comms informs us that it's carrying those Kahanians."
"Ah yes. Very well, inform Guns to 'ware of the GR-75. Also inform our piquets to be ready to escort them in when they arrive."

The major thought for a second. She wanted her troops to be able to survive, and to recognize that things that they normally wouldn't see as threats could be dangerous, but she also didn't want a bunch of paranoid lunatics on her hands when they got back to Kahanistan.

"Certainly, give us the briefing." She knew a little about the planetoid, but it was mostly information passed down to her by the Ministry of Defense. She would know there were dangerous creatures there, probably more formidable than any enemy soldier they had ever faced.

Meanwhile, throughout the ships, the soldiers grumbled about having no sleeping quarters aboard the ship. Even the RKS Chuck Norris, a floating gun platform classified as a super dreadnaught and never known for its creature comforts, had closet-like rooms with cots and little else. Many of the soldiers, even those who had been scared about the planetoid, couldn't wait to land and actually have living quarters, even if it were just a tent. Some of the grumblings were directed at the Kahanistanian government for doing business with "Jew-hating maniacs" and "genocidal animals." An astute observer would have been able to draw the conclusion that the Kahanistanian government was more democratic these days than Soviet; it had long since gone social democratic and secularized. Soldiers felt free to speak their minds, as there were no secret police to fear.

When the time came for the briefing, Fulton called the soldiers to attention. She personally didn't much like the Skgorrians, but kept that to herself. She joined the troops in formation and waited for the Skgorrian Major to deliver the briefing.

Storm-Major Yuklig had erected a large holoscreen that would display images that accompanied his briefing. He knew that the Kahanistanis were hostile towards him and possibly his government, but he really didn't care. He turned to the troops and began,

"Well first of all some brief details about the planetoid. The climate is quite mild, but tends to rain a couple of times every week. Your messages indicated you wanted to stay out in the open rather than be based in the starport so you'll need some wet weather gear for when it does rain. It's teeming with plant and annimal life, most of which is quite hostile.

The Kh'rask - sentient liquid rock forms that hunt humans to gain essential nutrients, usually roughly man-sized. They defecate diamonds and are relatively rare, keeping to set territories. Their skin is quite tough and they are fast, but we found that our standard blaster weaponry was just powerful enough to pain them and drive them off when used in large enough numbers.

Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beasts - named by the unfortunate who spotted and encountered them, tend to be no taller than knee-height. These are mobile plantforms that like our calcium-rich bone matter, so have a tendancy to use their spiky tendrils to rip us apart to get at our bones. They catch fire easily, so energy-based weapons are superb for dealing with them.

D'rasii - calcium-shelled land crabs which are four meters tall and encased in six-inch thick bone carapace. Preyed on by the Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beasts, but obviously you need a lot of Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg to take down one of these mothers. The D'rasii are quite slow so you can run away from them easily enough, otherwise consistent blaster firepower or explosives will deal with them easily enough.

Pollovi - floating ballon-like creatures that subsist by consuming molecules in the atmosphere. They give off a coloured gas that is poisonous to humans and will kill if too much is inhaled. D'rasii seem to be immune to this, and hunt the Pollovi extensivley. They pop easily enough so as long as you see them before they get too close you'll be fine. At night, these things are deadly as they move virtually silently.

The Schlurp - a large tentacled creature that inhabits the waterways and seas of this world. Named for the ominous it makes when it grabs humans by the orifices and drags them underwater to be violated and devoured. Stay away from water, as most of it tends to be acidic anyway.

There is also a new creature we encountered, we're calling it the "Hellion" at the moment. As you can see here, it's 4 metres tall and heavily armed and armoured. It moves damn quick, it even gave our Ubersoldaten problems.

You may find some prisoners on the planet, under no circumstances are you to give them supplies or aid. Failure to comply means we abandon you on the surface forever.

Questions?"

Fulton didn't have any questions, but the acidic water meant she'd brought her bathing suit for nothing. She'd hoped to do some recreational swimming during downtime and maybe even conduct underwater combat exercises if time permitted. She turned and looked at the other soldiers, maybe they would have a question she'd overlooked.

A skinny black man in the middle of the group raised his hand. "We don't have blasters, will our rocket launchers be effective against the Kh'rasks?" Kahanistan was fairly conservative about technology; it was only a series of defeats against the Freekish and CAD forces, combined with the ever-present threat of war with the Kraven Corporation, that had made it politically possible to add ETC weaponry to their arsenal, and railgun technology was still in its infancy, although planned for the next generation supercapital. Energy weapons had been experimented with before, but the project was deemed too expensive and inefficient, and shut down; the soldiers heading for the planetoid were armed mainly with assault rifles.

Yuklig's eyes widened in surprise.
"Excuse me?" he gaped, "you don't have blasters?" Yuklig then took a good look at the armaments the soldiers were carrying - to his complete and utter surprise he saw they were equipped with old projectile weaponry.
"Forgive me, but the last time I saw weaponry like that which you are carrying was when I took part in a Holocaust re-enactment last year. To answer your question, yes rocket launchers should prove effective. Won't help you if they get in close, and if they do I suggest you run." Yuklig cleared his throat, then continued.
"Let me be frank, if you don't have energy weapons then your chances of fighting off Kh'rask and D'rasii are severely compromised. You'll need to use explosives on them, in the case of the D'rasii I would recommend trying to roll a grenade underneath them. If there are no more questions, I will inform you of your choices of deployment."

Holocaust re-enactment? These assholes re-enact the slaughter of millions of innocents for fun?! The soldier's hands clenched around his weapon in fury. From what he'd read, the Nazis weren't too friendly to blacks.

Fulton nodded in the lieutenant's direction, to defuse the situation. She turned back to Yuklig. "What are our choices of deployment, Storm-Major?"

Yuklig smirked as he saw the Kahanistani soldier's hands tighten. Best to let them know who they are dealing with he thought.
"Your choices, Major, are as follows: we can either land in the spaceport and you can set out on foot from there, it will take you a while to reach any annimals though as they tend to stay away from the spaceport. However using the spaceport as a base of operations will allow you to return easily enough for food and water. In addition, our troops will be there to bail you out if you get in over your head. Quite what you're going to do to the Kh'rask when you run out of rockets apart from bleed on them, I have no idea.

Your second option is that we land the transport somewhere in the wastes and leave you there for two weeks. You'll quickly encounter these beasts that you seem so keen to fight, but you'll be far away from supplies and aid.

Your third option is that we dock at the Golan-II station Gates of Berlin and then we put you in drop pods and insert you in that way. We'll program the pods so you're a days hike away from the spaceport so you can move the spaceport if you wish or move deeper in, your choice. Personally, I think that way is far more fun, there is nothing like a fast-paced orbital insertion. Believe me, I've done a few. You see flames blazing out of the windows as you race towards the planet, it's the ultimate ride and I would thoroughly recommend it. " Yuklig smiled in recollection of his various drops.

Paucity of threats and proximity to Skgorrian troops would defeat the entire purpose of the exercise. It was clear to all Kahanistanian soldiers present that the first option was a no-go. For most of these soldiers, it would be a once-in-a-lifetime trip, unless the exercise went well and was expanded to other units and made a part of routine training. May as well make it as fun as possible for these guys...

"We'll go with the drop pods," said Fulton. The majority of the soldiers whom the Skgorrians had managed not to offend earlier nodded in agreement. Many were talking among themselves about how they'd want to tell it to their buddies back home, or to their grandchildren.

"Drop Pods? Fantastic!" beamed Yuklig, "I envy you, you lucky devils. Tell you what Major, as a token of my respect for your courage you can borrow this," Yuklig withdrew his blaster pistol from the holster and placed it grip-first in Fulton's hand. "You'll get just under a hundred shots from that, accurate up to 120 metres. You can hand it back when you are done," he stated with a wink. Raising his voice and adressing the rest of the Kahanistani troops, Yuklig continued.
"We will be arriving at the planetoid in roughly 5 hours, assuming our hyperdrive doesn't explode and that our flight crew is at least mildly competent. I suggest you catch some rest now, it will take us less than ten minutes to dock with the station on the other side and then less than that to get you all into the pods." Sketching a quick salute, Yuklig about-faced and walked into the bridge.

"How are they?" asked the navigator, swivelling around in his seat. Yuklig frowned at the formality, but nonetheless felt inclined to answer the question out of politeness.
"An interesting bunch, their tech level is somewhat...lower than we thought. They're still using projectile weaponry." The navigator's jaw dropped.
"Sir, they're going to get slaughtered! We can't let them down on the surface."
"Hardly ensign," scoffed the Storm-Major, "they are soldiers just like you and me. They are here to test themselves, who are we to refuse them that challenge?"

Respect for my courage? What is going to happen to us now? Fulton took the Skgorrian's blaster and put it in her rucksack. She and the rest of the soldiers went back into the cargo area to wait five hours for the arrival. During this time the Kahanistanians mostly conversed among themselves.

Major Fulton gave a recap of the briefing. "Our primary purpose here is to improve our observation skills, to detect threats when we return. The greatest threat we'll be facing is probably the Pollovi. They're deadly at night when they're hardest to spot, so we'll be posting night sentries to spot them, and we'll be sleeping in gas masks, MOPP will be reduced as we discover areas where the Pollovi are less of a threat. The D'rasii are slow, you can outrun them easily, but if you see them, there are probably Pollovi in the area, so keep an eye out for them."

"About the D'rasii, don't engage them if you don't have to. If you do find yourself in a situation where you're facing one, shoot at it with your assault rifle, it's got bone armor on it, but we all know a 5.56 millimeter round can penetrate bone, and a lot of them might even send it running. Failing that, you can try to lure it into a patch of bone-eating plants, but be sure you don't step on one yourself." She felt a bit weird about using the fuck-word with her troops in a briefing.

"That brings me to the next threat. We weren't told what the bone-eating plants look like, so be on your guard. This is part of our training, to teach us to keep on our toes. Do not pick any of the local plant life, I know some of you will want to send an exotic plant home, but it's not worth losing your arm, your leg, or your life. Do not step on any of the plants." She was aware of sounding like a rainforest guide, but she wasn't going to lose anyone to the Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beasts. "I can't emphasize enough, stay away from the plants. We have enough MRE's to last for two months and we're only going to be here for two weeks, you shouldn't need to try to eat any of the plants."

"Now, if you see diamonds or anything on the ground, it's probably Kh'rask droppings. Take them if you want, but the Kh'rasks are very dangerous, and they're a lot faster than the D'rasii, and you won't be able to lure them through the bone plants. Save your anti-tank rockets for the Kh'rasks and the Hellions. If we identify the bone plants, set them off with Molotov cocktails or incendiary tracer rounds." She held up the blaster. "If you run into a Kh'rask or a Hellion, you can get me, but this only holds about 90 shots."

The recap was over in ten minutes. For the rest of the time, the Kahanistanian soldiers continued to converse. The black man who had taken offense to Storm-Major Yuklig's statement about Holocaust re-enactments walked up to Fulton.

"So, do you trust these people? They're goddamned Nazis."

"I don't like them any more than you do, Lieutenant Caldwell," said Fulton. "But they have the rock, they have the monsters, they have territory that's useful to us. Believe me, it wasn't my idea to come out here, in the middle of nowhere. That came from the Ministry of Defense. They said that if the Freeks attack, we'll have to be prepared to fight them, so we need some combat experience against superior ground forces."

Meanwhile, two female Kahanistanian officers were talking about the inferiority of Nazism. "Holocaust re-enactments? I thought these so-called people didn't believe it ever happened. And they're re-enacting it?"

"Liza, it's what makes Nazis Nazis. They never denied lots of people died horribly, they just push their propaganda about how. It's complicated to explain, I have a book on neo-Nazism if you want to read it when we land."

Another male officer approached Fulton from behind. "So, how'd you get the blaster?"

"Yuklig handed it to me, said it was out of respect for my courage. I don't know what he's talking about, he was the one who urged us to go in by drop pod."

"Me neither," said the man. "I'm not saying you're not brave... but I think he had something else in mind when he handed you that."

"Oh, really? Like what?" she asked.

"I think... he likes you. I think he was paying special attention to you, I just don't think it's the mutual respect two commanders might have for each other, it didn't look that way."

Maybe... "I don't know." Fulton spoke calmly, but in a way that indicated she'd rather terminate that line of conversation.

They were getting nearer and nearer to the planetoid, making sure their body armor and NBC were on properly, their rucksacks were secured, and their weapons in working order.

"Soviets?" spluttered the pilot, "you let damned Bolsheviks on my ship?"
"This transport is hardly the most auspicious of craft is it?" remarked Yuklig drly, "and besides they seem a decent sort."
"I can't believe I'm hearing this," the pilot fumed, "and from a Special Action Division man as well! Don't you know of the interstellar Zionist-Bolshevik conspiracy?"
"Of course I know it fool," Yuklig's face grew dark with rage, "I've spent my entire life facing the forces of Zion-Bolshevism on the front lines. Don't lecture to me about them boy, or you can go to the surface as well." At this, the pilot paled and stopped talking. Silence fell as the 3 Skgorrians stared out of the transparisteel window at the beauty of hyperspace, before the navigator pressed his headphones closer to his head and then spoke up.
"Storm-Major Yuklig," he said, "our listening devices are picking up some interesting chatter in the cargo hold." Yuklig's eyes widened,
"we have listening devices in a cargo hold?"
The navigator beamed in pride,
"Aye Storm-Major, that we do. CFSS installed them the other day, before we left as an added precaution. I've got a few soundbytes if you want to listen."
Yuklig shook his head, "just give me the essentials."
"Well Storm-Major," the navigator began, "Major Fulton emphasised that her troops shouldn't pick up any plants in case they are Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beasts. Imagine that," he chuckled to himself for a couple of seconds before continuing. "Some of the soldiers are discussing the finer points of National Socialism and get this: they think we deny the Holocaust."
At this, the 3 Skgorrians burst into laughter. Storm-Major Yuklig bent double and clutched his stomach from the pain of laughing so much, whilst the pilot had to wipe a tear from his eye.
"I know," grinned the navigator, "amusing stuff or what? Ooo get this Storm-Major, one of the Kahanistani officers reckons you're sweet on that Soviet Major."
Yuklig stopped laughing, "that's clearly not true. Why would they think so?"
"Mainly because you gave her a blaster," stated the navigator, "I know, I know, you gave it to her because they're going to need it and you respect their courage. But Storm-Major, I don't think these people realise just how horrific it is down there."
Sighing, Yuklig leant on the back of the navigator's chair. "I can't just let them go down and face the planet with their current weaponry- it would be a horrible massacre. They want and need a test of skill, I'm just giving them half a chance to fight off some of the nastier beasts." The Storm-Major took his seat behind the flight crew and they waited the rest of the journey out in silence.

Upon exiting hyperspace, Storm-Major Yuklig stood up and went into the cargo bay as the crew took the transport to the Gates of Berlin.
"We are here," he announced, "we'll be at the station in ten minutes."

OOC: Is this RP open?

OOC: Is this RP open?

OOC: most certainly, this RP is open for:
- prisoner disposal
- troop training of all techs (as long as a MT/PMT society doesn't mind contact with aliens)

snip
(LOL!)

"OK, file out," said the Major. "Remember what I said about the plant life down there."

"Yes, Mother," muttered one of the younger soldiers, who had by now heard more about Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beasts and diamond-crapping rock men than he ever hoped to hear about again.

Fulton ignored him. "Just wait until someone leads us to the drop pods."

hey, it's true :p

The rear doors opened to expose a cavernous hangar bay that dwarved the transport. Space and stars were visible through the force-field that kept the atmosphere in.
"Follow me then," waved Yuklig.
Other craft were stationed in the hangar, of various sizes and states of repair. One craft, similar in appearance to the transport, had been totally gutted. Rack after rack of fighters hung above the heads of the occupants of the transport as they disembarked.
"3 squadrons of our starfighters are up there," Yuklig informed the nearest Kahanistani. "Now, on to the main show." He pointed out a row of pods lined up on a belt against the side of the hangar.
"10 men and kit per pod, the seats are arranged all around the outside facing inwards. Our deck crew will help you secure your cargo in the central bin on the floor of each pod. The restraints are fairly easy to use, but our crew will help you if needed. Once you're all in and secured, we'll fire you down to the surface. You'll get a great few through the windows in each pod of the planetary surface as you descend towards it. Don't worry that you can't see it out of the bay, we're just facing away from the planet at the moment. We're not going to fire you off into space."
Skgorrian deck crew began to help the Kahanistanis strap themselves in and load their kit.

Some of the soldiers looked quizzically at Fulton. They would not put it past the Skgorrians to launch them into space. But such would be a bad political move on their part. It was only after most of the Kahanistanian commanders and the majority of the lower rungs boarded that the more skeptical ones boarded the pods, figuring if their commanders trusted the Skgorrians, they might as well too. There was some grumbling and expressions of distrust, but in the end all of the soldiers were in the pods, waiting for their cargo to be secured and disgorged into the hostile territory.

"I saw the planet out one of the other windows, they aren't shooting us into space," said one of the soldiers, trying to assure one of the more distrustful officers in the pod. "I don't think they're going to go this far to murder us."

"You sure? Back in the 40's the Nazis used deception, gas chambers disguised as showers and the like. You think these guys are any different?"

"Not really. But it would be pretty expensive to toss out thirty military-grade insertion craft just to murder three hundred people. I don't think the few million the military paid for this would cover that kind of loss. Stop being so paranoid."

"Paranoid? Fulton just went on about the plants, I don't think I'm being paranoid, Corporal."

They never do... The discussion went on for a few more minutes, probably to only be ended with a loud BOOM! or whatever sound these ships made when they fired drop pods. But that was still a few minutes away...

The Skgorrian deck crew secured the cargo in the storage bins located underneath the floors of each drop pod and demonstrated how to release the lid by pulling and twisting a couple of handles simultaneously. After they had finished securing and demonstrating, the deck crew gave a final check of all the harness and signalled "good to go."

In the hangar's control station, Storm-Major Yuklig was watching along with the command crew as pod after pod was readied for launching.
"Storm-Major," the senior rating reported after a sharp salute, "all pods are ready to fire."
"And the targeting data?"
"All confirmed Storm-Major, the pods are to land in 3 distinct groups each 10 kilometres away from each other. Current weather reports show little to no wind, so the landings should be precise."
"Excellent," Yuklig said, "any sightings of Hellions in the area?"
The senior rating shook his head, "none that have been reported Storm-Major. 2 scout bikes went through the area a day ago and reported signs of Kh'rask, but no Hellions. Storm-General Beckenbauer is conducting a full investigation."
"A good man," nodded Yuklig, "he'll get the job done. Well enough delays, start loading the pods."
"As ordered sir," saluted the rating before moving to the loading controls. The pods started to travel along a conveyor belt that led through the wall of the hangar and out of sight from anyone in the hangar. Each pod would then be steadily rotated ninety degrees to point towards space.
"All pods loaded and ready to fire Storm-Major," reported the rating.
"Launch pods," ordered Yuklig.
At this, the rockets on the bottom of each pod kicked to life andall of the pods screamed into space. Roughly 10 seconds after they had left the hangar, the pods curved down to pass under the station and towards the planetoid. Each of the Kahanistanis would be treated to a magnificent view of the planetoid, and they would see it was mostly green landmass with a few interspersions of water. They would only see this for a couple of minutes as soon the pods entered the atmosphere and flames raced up against the transparisteel windows, making it seem that the soldiers were indeed decending into hell. As the pods got closer to the ground, it seemed that they were going to plunge head-first into the soil - however at the last moment repulsorlifts kicked in and the rockets disengaged, violently jerking each pod upright so it would land on its bottom. With a hard thump each pod set down nearly simultaneously, and the doors all hissed open. The Kahanistanis had arrived.

But there was a problem.

"WHAT?" yelled Yuklig, "what do you mean 'data anomaly in the targeting matrix'? Answer me girl," snarled the Storm-Major in a towering rage. Behind her stood two Air Force troopers, angry on one hand that a member of the SS was chewing out one of their own, but too scared to intervene on her behalf. Yuklig had been on his way to the recdeck when the two troopers had stopped him with a nervous-looking deckhand behind them. A small voice in the back of his head made Yuklig think that perhaps the middle of a hangar bay wasn't the best place to chew out an underling, but he didn't really care.
"I...I..," stammered the nervous deckhand, "I think there's a random glitch in the s..s..sequencer in pod launcher 23. After-launch analysis only just picked it up s..s.sir."
"Fantastic!" Storm-Major Yuklig threw his hands up in the air in despair, "you mean to tell me that pod 23 is somewhere down there, and we don't know where? Can't we just track the transponders?"
"I'm af..f.fraid we cannot do that, drop pods have no transponders. Our sensors cannot pick them up either, too much interference," the troubled deckhand reluctantly informed the Storm-Major, who flew into an even deeper rage.
"Well then how in the Fuhrer's underpants do you propose we find out where they are? I'll report you to the Governor-General for such disgusting incompetence!" Yuklig spat at the deckhand. At this the senior rating, who had come running as soon as the confrontation started, skidded to a halt next to the young deckhand and popped off a quick salute.
"Storm-Major, perhaps it is best that the Governor-General not be informed. Wider questions could be asked of the competency of everyone involved, could they not?" The senior rating's tone was heavy with implications.
"Well, I suppose we shouldn't trouble her with this," Yuklig considered, "but this doesn't let you off the hook deckhand. Aha!" Yuklig's eyes lit up with an idea. "Tell me deckhand, have you ever had drop pod training?"

"I don't see how this is going to work," the senior rating complained.
"What's not to understand, it's as easy as Yid pie. We fire another drop pod set to the same co-ordinates through slot 23, and then trace it. We've even got a locater beacon on it."
"But why put the deckhand in it?" asked the senior rating, carefully masking his anger.
"Punishment, if she survives on the surface then I will consider that adequate discipline."
Another drop-pod was thus fired with one protesting and tearful deckhand in it, except it was travelling at half-speed to make tracking it easier. The telemetry data showed it would be landing roughly 80 kilometres away from the main body of Kahanistani troops, and hopefully right on top of the isolated drop pod.

Drop pods

"Whoo!! Whoo!! Holy motherfucker!!!" First Lieutenant Moses Caldwell bellowed as his drop pod screamed toward the surface, practically squeezing his guts out giving him and the other soldiers in his pod the roller coaster ride of their lives at several G's.

When he landed, while the other soldiers were exulting over the thrill ride, Caldwell counted the drop pods; there were only nine, and the other groups each reported ten.

"Oh, shit..."

---

Missing drop pod

Unfortunately for the main body of the Kahanistanian forces, the missing drop pod was the one with the only blaster in the forces in it. Not only that, but it was in Kh'rask territory, if the oodles and oodles of diamonds were any indicator. Furthermore, male Kh'rasks might smell the female pheromones coming from Major Fulton and three other women soldiers.

"Um... Major?" asked Corporal Lyle Schultz, the man who had been talking to her earlier in the cargo room. "Aren't there supposed to be a few other pods with us?" Behind him, two privates and a sergeant were greedily cramming as many diamonds into their rucksacks as they could hold.

"Yes, there are..." she said. "This is dangerous territory, don't get sidetracked with those," she said to the soldiers who were collecting Kh'rask crap.

The soldiers stood up, diamonds spilling out of one of the sacks as they did. They all locked and loaded their IMI Tavor assault rifles, making sure the grenade launchers were clean and in working order and inspecting the contents of the crate their pod had with it.

Bridge, ASV Victory:

"Fucking incompetant Nazi bastards," laughed the Captain-General as he skimmed the telemetry report his Number One had given him, "they can't even get a drop pod insertion right!"
"No sir. It appears they've put another one after it to try and salvage it, or locate it, or something of the sort."
"Well, not really our problem. What the hell, contact Governor-General Frank, and tell her of the problem. She can decide what to do. After all, we're still waiting for Act of God to be implemented... that reminds me, tell the pickets to double their sweep ranges and increase their speed to .6 C."
"At once, sir."

Governor-Generals' Command Bunker, Surface:

"Storm-General Beckenbauer, be advised that your Navy has screwed up and put the Kahanistani bolshies down all over the place. I want you to have units ready to move in at a moment's notice if and when things get too much. Also, inform 283rd Brigade that they need to send a scout unit out to the last known position of this pod," she said, indicating on her display pod 23's drop site, "which is here on your HUD map. When they get there, I want them to inform me of the situation and bring back any Skgorrian or Atopian personnell they find there. Understood?"

Hunting Grounds:

Pack-leader Uxkx was angry. Fire in the sky meant that the demon invaders had come again. Its ward-mate had been given back to the gods a full half-circuit ago thanks to them.

>colour:hate< {come,} it signalled, {to feast on the demons!} >colour:rage<

As one, the rock outcrop moved. Fluid, swift motions, erotic in their subtle grace, brought the fifteen members of the pack to their seperate hunting positions. Almost noiselessly, the great steel-grey forms of the K'hrask flowed towards the source of the reverberations in the ground. The demons would answer tenfold for the harm done to the pack - and then the pack would feed as it had done before. D'rasii meat was good, but the sky-demons were bliss...

"Major, the rock is MOVING!" Corporal Schultz leveled his Tavor at the rock form, firing the 30-round clip of 5.56mm NATO ammunition at the beast. When it failed to even slow down, he fired the 40mm grenade of the attached M-203, then loaded again. As he did so, Fulton and two other soldiers fired their M-203's. The blaster would likely only be easy to aim if the monster made it to within about 120 meters...

"Aim for the head!" the Major commanded. "Reynolds, do we have any more grenades in that crate?"

"About fifty, Major," said the Master Sergeant as he held a frag grenade, ready to throw at the Kh'rask when it got close enough. He dragged the box to the Major.

The explosive charges sent shockwaves through the crystalline interior of the Kh'rask which had foolishly dashed ahead of its pack-leader. Slowly, inevitably, it began to harden and shatter as it died, its interior torn apart by blastwaves and its surface flash-boiled by the heat of the detonations. As it died, it rippled a series of colours, screaming - silently.

{revenge} cried Uxkx {revenge for our thrice born!}

And with that it leapt, solidifying as it did so. Shrapnel from grenades pattered off it as it dived for the closest sky-demon, and thudded harmlessly into the still liquid form of the Kh'rask behind it.

Another Kh'rask, hit by more rounds from the underslung launchers, turned tail and fled. The rest of the pack, however, came on; already three others besides Uxkx had attacked...

Governor-Generals' Command Bunker, Surface:

It will be as you command thundered the mighty Ubersoldat as he saluted and exited the Governor-General's office. Things are getting stupid here he considered, first this business with the Hellions, and now we're allowing primitive Bolsheviks here? By the Fuhrer, what a pickle we're in. Fucking stupid Navy bastards. Still mentally cursing, he made his way to Dispatch. Slamming his armoured fist down on the desk and making a rather suprised attendant jump, Beckenbauer issued his commands.
I need a scout biker sent to these co-ordinates he stated, downloading the location to the MilWeb.
"But sir," protested the attendant, "it'll take a scout biker 2 days to reach there."
Action without delay! Beckenbauer roared, punching the attendant in the head. Not hard enough to kill him, but enough to send him flying backwards and make the rest of the Dispatch officer staff turn around.
Anyone else question my order?

Fort Frank, Perimeter

Scout First Class Heydrich couldn't believe his orders.
"Keep going in that direction for a couple of days, rescue any PoI personell, then come back." - what a fucking mess. It seemed that contempt was the order of the day. Mind you, it would give him a chance to listen to "Hitler's Top Ten Rallies" on his iPod. (Yup, Apple is a tool of the nazis :p)

Falton's Drop Pod

Junior deckhand Gorboets groggily slapped the hatch release on her pod. She could've sworn she heard shots and gunfire, but it couldn't be. Upon the hatch hissing open, she saw that she had landed roughly a hundred yards behind the Kahanistanis and that they were being attacked. She ducked back into the pod in the hope she could hide, but realised that she would have been spotted not only by her bright red uniform, but by the fact she had landed out of the sky. Tearfully clutching a E-11 blaster carbine, she stepped out of the pod and wildly sprayed at the Kh'rask.

Gorobet's wildly spraying blaster shots accomplished in under a second what the combined fire of the Kahanaians had failed to do in moments. Three more of the Kh'rask wilted, two bursting into hideously bright flames. The rest, however, were on the Kahanians, arms edged with super-dense super-hard minerals slicing down, colours flashing across them in riotous displays of anger and martial prowess...

Master-Sergeant Reynolds was struck head-on by the incoming Kh'rask. He fell over, broken and bloody. Fulton went for her blaster and shot it, getting off two shots. Behind her, two other soldiers crouched by the grenade-round box, furiously loading and firing their M-203's as fast as they could.

Another soldier knelt next to Reynolds, to see if he was still alive after the Kh'rask attack. He had four broken ribs and wasn't breathing. The soldier began CPR on him, but didn't know how effective it would be at getting him back into a fighting condition.

"First-aid kit," said Fulton, before turning and firing a shot into the Kh'rask that was attacking her from behind, in the direction she saw a grenade fired.

Corporal Schultz picked up a first-aid kit, which held not only bandages and disinfectants, but also sutures, heroin (for pain relief), a scalpel, a flashlight, a defibrillator and even an X-ray scope.

Suddenly, another pod fell out of the sky. Help? It landed near to their position, close enough to call for help to anyone there.

"There's someone there! Maybe one of us? Over here and help us!" a Kahanistanian soldier yelled in the direction of the Skgorrian pod nearby.

---

In the other groups, soldiers formed patrols to look for the missing pod, and identify the Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beasts, the idea of which was terrifying to the Kahanistanians, whose worst experiences with plants were being stung by nettles or bitten by Venus flytraps. They were used to seeing plants as harmless organisms. Hopefully they would be identified by being seen eating a dead D'rasii, rather than attacking a Kahanistanian soldier.

The radios had only a range of about thirty kilometers. There was no sign at all of Major Fulton. "Those bastards shot her into space," Master Sergeant Abner Goldstein grumbled. "Spaced her or dumped her into a Schlurp lake."

With the deployment's commander MIA, Lt. Caldwell took over general command of the deployment as the highest-ranking officer remaining. He ordered that threat assessments be made of the area, and patrols be set up to scout out remote locations for the missing drop pod. Unlike Goldstein, Caldwell did not think Fulton had been intentionally spaced or killed. He was, however, concerned about her welfare and the overall security of the detachment.

Oh god they're talking to me! Gorobets panicked, what do I say?. She kept up her sporadic fire, bolstered by the fact she'd taken a couple of them down, but still trying not to hit the Kahanistani.
"Urm...I'm coming!" she called out, advancing erratically, trying to run, balance and fire at the same and not doing a very good job.

Main Dropsite

A group of Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beastd waited in their warren for a food to come past. Food often came past, sometimes on four legs. The most tasty food came on four legs. Food came from the sun as well, but food was better when eaten than soaked in. Suddenly, a food! One beast leapt out, snarling the leg with its tendrils. Soon four other had joined their denmate in getting food.

Uxkx shuddered as the sky demon's bolts hit home. But it was the pack-leader, and the pack-leader was made of sterner stuff. Flashing vibrant orange, it flowed low - then pounced as the demon turned, killing a smaller, weaker pack member...

Its fellow pack members, incensed at the loss of so many, redoubled their efforts. Two went for the demon crouching over the body of another. Four attacked the demons clustered around some strange boxy objects - and the last two circled towards the red demon...

-------

It's hard work, being a plant. It's much easier when your food sources walk straight into you, thanks to millions of years of evolution disguising you as slightly longer, tufted, grass...

Gorobets' eyes widened when she saw that two Kh'rask had changed direction to come at her specifically.
"AHHHHHH!" she screamed, continuing to sporadically shoot the Kh'rask coming towards her.

Fort Frank

Storm-General Beckenbauer was seeing to the outer defences. Turrets and E-webs had now been set up. Just for kicks, they would fire on any of the few remaining prisoners that came into range. He passed on strict orders not to hurt the annimals, they were special.

Information Flash from ASV Victory to All Kahanian Personnel:

http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c51/GenSteiner/Atopiana/Gorobets.jpg

Attached you will see Junior Deckhand Ingrid Gorobets of the Skgorrian Air Force. She is your best chance for survival. If you locate her, protect her at all costs. If you fail to do so, you will in all probability die if you do not have any more blasters.

Note that in the attached picture her hair is dyed red - it is unknown if this is the case or not at present. Her natural hair colour is straw-blonde. She is 5' 6" tall and speaks north-Skgorrian accented German.

The Pack:

The two Kh'rask which had charged the red demon had both fallen, their beings vanishing from Uxkx's thought-sight. Inwardly, it cursed. Today, the pack died - but not without a fight!

Second Lieutenant Ivan Gorov remembered Fulton's advice on the plants, but had gotten careless after not seeing anything dangerous for hours. He did not notice the danger he was in until one of the spiky tendrils lashed out at his leg.

"OH MY FUCKING..." the officer shrieked in pain. He opened fire from his TAR-21 into the monstrous plant. The soldier behind him thought quickly, loading a tracer clip into his weapon and firing incendiary rounds into the maneater, which was now covered in his blood. Gorov fell on his buttocks, and he would be killed in seconds if those tracers didn't set the plants ablaze soon. At best, he would come out crippled, with severe burns from the fires used to kill the plants.

---

Fulton threw down her IMI Tavor and restricted herself to the blaster pistol. It seemed about as effective as an anti-tank grenade launcher against these monsters.

If I free the girl, I let her fire from her position on the ones attacking us. "I'll get us some covering fire." She opened fire on the rock monsters near the other drop pod, hoping to free the girl who was pinned down. In the meantime, the other soldiers fought the Kh'rask with hand grenades, M-203's, and a Javelin anti-tank gun that was in the crate, and the medic tending to the fallen Master Sergeant was knocked down too, badly wounded by the Kh'rask.

When the Kh'rasks were very close, some soldiers fired their 5.56mm assault rifles at the heads, trying to hit the eyes and other relatively weak areas.

Captain Petersen shook his head.
"Incompetent Atopians, the Kahanistanis don't have the equipment to receive information flashes."
"We do though sir," grinned the comms officer, staring at the picture of the rather foxy Junior Deckhand. "Shame officers and enlisted can't..."
"Indeed," sighed Petersen, "oh well, back to the grind. Call a suprise calisthenics drill, I'm bored."

Scene of Ohmyfuckarrghmylegbeast attack

The member that had lashed onto the first food exploded in flames, as did one close to it. A third member attempted to latch onto the top of the food, whilst the other two bounded towards the other food. They were hungry, and wanted food.

Food, thought the plant, sustenance. Its long, furry tendrils began to ooze a highly potent acid designed to dissolve organic matter - for ingestion.

Other tendrils began wrapping themselves around the struggling Gorov, while the main body of the plant began shifting away from the bullet impacts...

The Pack:

One of its fellows exploded in a bright flash of fire and shrapnel as the Javelin found its mark - but the others pounced on the crew. Uxkx, meanwhile, landed heavily on the demon with the death ray. The red demon was too far away for it or its pack-mates to reach, so they concentrated on the ones they could...

Gorobets saw that one of the Kahanistanis had a blaster, and realised that it was key to everyone surviving here. So when the Kh'rask jumped on the woman wielding it, she took careful aim and tried to hit the Kh'rask without hitting the woman. She wasn't sure if she would hit, she was a Junior Deckhand and not a Kriegsmarine, but she'd give it her best shot.

She would regret that pun for the rest of her life.

Gorobets' bolt slammed home, frying Uxkx's central neural network.

Instantly, it died, dropping all four tons of itself onto the prone figure of the sky-demon...

...and the remainder of the pack, leaderless, fled.

Lieutenant Gorov barely noticed that his left leg was all but gone as he continued to fire his weapon, losing consciousness at the same time his Tavor ran out of ammunition. Three other soldiers formed a wall around him, spraying incendiary tracer rounds into the deadly plants. A flamethrower would have been nice, but Kahanistanian infantry rarely used them, considering them inhumane. Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beasts were not among the enemies they were trained to fight.

The patrol radioed for help; they needed emergency medical treatment and incendiary weapons. When it came time to rotate the troops out the next batch would have to be briefed on this a lot better.

---

Stray pod

The medic was instantly crushed to death as the huge rock fell on him. However, he had managed to restore the injured Master Sergeant's breathing and heartbeat, though he still required major medical intervention.

Fulton walked over toward the other drop pod, to check on the girl they had just saved. They had one dead soldier, one critically wounded, and four others with minor injuries. Fulton had a shrapnel wound in her left leg. She was still able to walk, albeit with some effort; it was painful even after she'd pulled out the shell fragment.

The last of the beasts died, their death wails carrying far across the plains. The rest would know what happened here.

----------------------------------------------------

Gorobets couldn't believe that she was still alive. Dumbfounded, she let the rifle drop on her sling and it fell to her side. She saw one of the bolshies was coming towards her and her pulse raced. Calm down, they look human enough. Don't look Jewish...so they can't be that bad...can they? She cracked a thin smile and waved,
"Urm....hi, I guess," she mumbled, "it's kind of my fault you're here." Well done, great first impression dunderhead!

Far off, in the hills, the All Pack awoke.

Its rumbling, deep, subsonic roar was felt for miles.

The packs shivered, and began to move...

"Hello there," said Major Fulton, extending her hand to the Skgorrian woman. She was about the same height and with a similar frame, but Fulton was a bit smaller and had dark brown hair and gray eyes. She smiled warmly at the new arrival and introduced herself.

"Major Mara Fulton," said the commander. "I'm the commander of the Kahanistanian deployment here." She extended her hand to the other woman. "What do you mean about it being your fault we're here?"

Slowly, the All Pack began to form at the Mote. Great packs, small packs, the packless - all were coming. Soon, the world would shake!

"Well," began Gorobets, "it's kind of a long story that is really short but I tell things long and I don't know why I think it might be medical but anyway I monitor the targeting programs on the drop pods and there was an anomaly in the targeting matrix that only came out from the exit data and I told the Storm-Major but he got cross becuase he didn't know where you are so he sent this pod down with me in it to track it so he could work where you are which I think is roughly a hundred kilometres away from your friends please don't hurt me." Gorobets attempted a nervous smile, but it couldn't hide the tears welling up in her eyes.

Hundreds of Kh'rask were at the mote now, and every hour brought hundreds more...

The Kahanistanians had no desire to harm Gorobets. Some of the men who were still walking might try to get some action with her, but none of them would hurt her, on purpose anyway. What happened during rough play was an entirely different matter, however.

Fulton gently put her arms around the young woman. "We won't hurt you," she said softly. "But we should get out of here as soon as we can, this is Kh'rask territory."

Nearby, one of the more opportunistic soldiers picked up the dead soldier's rucksack, and crammed it as full of Kh'rask diamonds as he could. He then took a shovel to the anus of a dead Kh'rask to dig out as many diamonds as he could to take back to Kahanistan.

Nodding, Gorobets spoke up. "Apparently the other are to our north-west. Or was it south-west...nope it was north-west, I'm sure of that. I don't know where that is," she said apologetically. "I did bring something with me though!" She darted into her pod and came out moments later with a small cylindrical object that just fitted in the palm of her hand.
"It's a commlink, patched into the Atopian command frequency. You can talk to Fort Frank through this," she beamed. "Now which way is north..."

At first glance, the mote is an mountain of ever-changing colours, a giant patchwork quilt draped over a hill. It is not. It is thousands upon thousands of Kh'rask - it is the All Pack.

It broke up, and flowed south. Towards the sky-demon fort... and the sky demons who had made Ukxkk packless earlier in the circuit.

A soldier pulled out a compass and showed it to Gorobets. It would point the way north, no matter what planet they were on. They worked on the Moon, anyway. "North is this way," he said, pointing.

Fulton went to the comm-link and opened a channel to Fort Frank.

"This is Major Mara Fulton, Kahanistan Republic Guard (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Kahanistan_Republic_Guard), we've been seperated from our unit, requesting coordinates and general direction of nearest Kahanistanian forces to our position, please advise. We also have wounded. Over." She did not want to use Skgorrian technology if she could avoid it, they wouldn't have it in Kahanistan. But she wouldn't let an injured soldier die in training exercises if she could help it.

"Sir," began the Communications Officer, "a call from the Kahanistanis for you."
"Damn," snarled the Watch Officer, "already? That's me out of the pool."

Seizing the handset, he spoke:

"What is it? You need co-ordinates? Hang on, let me check with the Victory."

After a brief pause, he resumed his half-snarled, half-bored conversation.

"You're approximately 8 miles due Nor-nor West of the nearest KRG unit's last reported position. If you proceed to grid ref 092321 you should arrive within a mile or so of them. Best of luck, try not to die too fast. Oh, and tell Gorobets that if she gets to the fort Governor-General Frank wants to speak to her. Fort out."

Slamming the handset onto its cradle, the Officer of the Watch savagely booted a chair across the duty room, before throwing his pay-chip at the smirking communications officer.

"There! You fucking bolshevik! Take my fucking money!"
"You do know that the KRG men are South South East, not NNW, right?"
The Watch Officer blanched, then threw back his head and laughed.
"No, no I didn't, but fuck it, I'm not telling those bastard bolsheviks where they are. Makes up for losing the bet. Damn, but I hope that foxy little Skgorrian makes it though, I tell you that!"

"Eight miles north-northwest of their position," said Major Fulton. "That means we should head south-southeast from here, eight miles. Grid ref 092321," she said, hoping Gorobets would understand the term, because she certainly didn't.

Corporal Schultz nodded. "Eight miles? That's about thirteen kilometers, we should be able to establish radio contact."

"No go," said another soldier. "Jenson had it when the Kh'rask fell on him." It was probably in a million pieces now.

"Oh, and Governor-General Frank wanted to talk to you when we get out of here," said Fulton to Gorobets.

The Kahanistanian soldiers prepared to lug their weapons, wounded, supplies, and loot south-southeast, not knowing that they had received erroneous information from the Atopians.

Gorobets looked at Fulton, realising that the Major was hoping she'd know something about the string of numbers the Atopian had just read off.
"I don't know anything I'm just a Deckhand heck not even that I'm just a Junior Deckhand I know computers but not that well as you guessed oh god I'm hopeless and the Governor-General wants to talk to me oh gods I am so dead." She buried her head on Fulton's shoulders and started crying.

The Mote, having broken up, split further into two groups.

The first, the largest, comprising some 15,000 Kh'rask, was just minutes away from the main force of the KRG, and heading directly for Fort Frank. A smaller group of a mere thousand or so had broken off and was at this very moment surrounding the sobbing Gorobets and her rescuers...

Fulton held Gorobetz tightly against her, much like she did to her one-year-old back home. What else could she do? This woman was clearly in emotional distress. But on the other hand, the Kh'rasks were almost certain to come back in force.

"Maybe he wants to promote you," said Fulton. "But whatever it is, it can't be any worse than where we are now. Let's get out of here. We should probably call in help." She would normally be against it, but they were likely to be outnumbered by the Kh'rask, terribly. Fighting independently was one thing, but engaging a superior enemy force of Kh'rasks was nothing short of nuts.

Well, at least we know we could hold our own against the Freeks, whup Kraven, maybe make the Doomies think twice about hitting us...

The Kahanistanians followed the directions they were given and headed out as fast as they could walk at a sustained pace. They would be able to cover eight miles in an hour and a half to two hours.

Command Bunker, Fort Frank:

Governor-General Frank was in a towering rage, her eyes narrowed and her fists pressed hard against her desk as she screamed into the intercom.

"I don't care. No, that's an order. YES Beckenbauer! NO I don't CARE about the sodding Kh'rask warparty, the bombers can deal with it. And fuck the KRG, I want Gorobets alive! Understand? Good!"

The War Party:

{ahead} signalled the lead Kh'rask, {many sustenance! feast for all mote!}

And, as one, the lead wave of a hundred Kh'rask stormed from the undergrowth towards the hapless KRG men led by Fulton's 2iC...

Dropship 4, en route to Gorobets' last known location

"Sir, we're almost at the drop zone," the pilot called to the back where Storm-General was silently fuming as he studied the seething and pulsing Kh'rask formation. I should be the one leading the assault, a glorious countercharge to rid myself of me!
"Sir," the pilot grew more insistent, "I'm opening the doors now." With that, the bay doors opened at the rear. Well, here we go sighed Beckenbauer and he strode out of the transport craft. Activating his grav-belt, he floated to the ground. A soft thunk thunk indicated that the 4-metre tall hulking armoured Storm-General had landed. A quick scan could not find Gorobets, but he could see a small group of humans to the south-southeast. He started running, calling out ahead: In the name of Skgorria, HALT!

{aiee} screamed a Kh'rask, {the arch-demon! attack sibling-mates!}

As Beckenbauer yelled, the encircling Kh'rask leapt from cover, blade-arms already hardened and ready to carve their enemies limb from limb...

First Lieutenant Caldwell had ninety soldiers at his disposal, including one girl who was missing an arm from an Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beast, two men with bad diarrhea from eating one of the plants on the surface, and one man who was suffering from a nervous breakdown from seeing his comrade having her arm chewed off by a deadly variety of poison oak. That meant he actually had eighty-six soldiers under his command who could fight.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," muttered the commander.

"What is it?" asked a master sergeant.

"Kh'rasks."

"What? Speak up, nigga!"

"Get the Javelins. I want a defense perimeter set up." I hope Mara's all right. "Conserve ammunition, don't fire until you can score a headshot." He did not need to remind the soldiers that they would also be allowed to collect Kh'rask diamonds, they were more interested in staying alive. "And try to contact the other detachments, we might need reinforcements."

God, I hoped for a training exercise, not the goddamn Doomani war all over again...

---

Gorobets' location

Fulton stopped and turned around. "This is Kh'rask territory, what do you want?" Their lives were at stake here, and she had just been consoling Gorobets. The Kh'rask were probably fairly close to them, and closing in. She was a little testier than her normal, calm personality.

When the Kh'rask appeared, however, she fired an M-203 round at its head...

Fort Frank Airbase

"SCRAMBLE," blared the claxons, "SCRAMBLE, SCRAMBLE - ATTACK ALARM!"

Within moments, the first squadron of 12 bombers had taken off, racing north towards the embattled Caldwell as per Gov-Gen Frank's (slightly incoherent) orders.

Kh'rask Main Force:

Without even bothering to slow down, the first few hundred Kh'rask simply swept through Caldwell's position, bladed limbs scything as they went. In their rage, casualties meant nothing to them...

Kh'rask War Party:

As the first Kh'rask rose, it died. But there were over nine hundred more to take its place, and they stormed forwards, ignoring the two sky demons with the blasters, heading instead for the arch-demon and the weaker sky demons...

Targets located: Engage combat protocol Alpha Yes/No?
Selected: Yes
Combat Protocol Alpha engaged

At this, huge bursts of adrenaline were delivered into the remmenants of Beckenbauer's already-enhanced nervous system. He charged towards the nearest Kh'rask, his chain-sabre roaring, his plasma cannon forgotten. From his mouth a liftime of pain and rage burst forth in a sound that chilled all who heard it. He moved with strength and power, he let the rage become him.

I am Rage

For the first and last time in its life, the Kh'rask felt fear. Then, it died, its silicate and mineral body torn asunder by Beckenbauer's monomolecular-edged chain sword. Fourty more leapt for the arch-demon, their blades flailing. Just as quickly, they, too, died. The arch-demon was truly horrific!

{death comes among us}
{then meet it with pride in the all pack}

Swamping the near-defenceless KRG troopers, the Kh'rask shrugged off their casualties from Gorobets' and Fultons' blasters, charging in their hundreds like beasts posessed at Beckenbauer...

I am Rage
They come
I kill
I slaughter
None stand before me
I am Rage

Lost in the depths of his pyschosis, the being once known as Beckenbauer mechanically slashed and hacked at the horde before him like some sort of primeaval god of war. Periodically he would emit his strange scream-cry, as if trapped in a cage of torment and agony.

Meanwhile, Gorobets was very scared indeed. She kept firing into the mass of Kh'rasks but wondered just how much charge her rifle had left. Most of all, she wondered if she was going to live through this day.

The Kahanistanian soldiers who were still armed with only their M-203 40mm single-shot grenade launchers and IMI Tavor rifles took cover behind the Skgorrian mobile suit and fired at the Kh'rask. The ones with Javelins took an advance guard position with Major Fulton and her blaster. They made every shot count, holding their fire until the Kh'rask approached to within range, and aimed for head shots at ranges of 200 meters or less.

The soldiers fixed bayonets to their Tavors, but doubted they would be effective against the rockpeople.

"We need to get out of here," said Fulton to the man in the mobile suit. She sounded urgent, though not panicky; she had held her head under fire before. They're no different from the Sardaukar, in fact they're easier, they have to come close to attack.

---

Caldwell's unit held the line, and the other 186 Kahanistanian soldiers who were combat capable would be coming within the next hour or so. He ordered his soldiers to spread out and take aim, slowly and methodically at the Kh'rask. 127mm rockets flew at the Kh'rask, with the power of a medium artillery shell and the ability to penetrate 600mm rolled homogeneous armor.

However, most of the explosive ordnance they had was in the form of hand grenades and 40mm grenade rounds for the M-203's attached to their Tavors.

Lost under a small hill of Kh'rask, still Beckenbauer fought on. The Kh'rask, in their terror and anger, could hardly hit him - let alone hurt him - while those on the outside died to the blasts of Gorobets and Fulton...

...until, that is, 300 broke away from the pile and advanced rapidly on the remaining Kahanians. The Javelin team was attacked by a further 100 who had remained hidden until now.

Cardwell's Position:

Despite horrifying casualties of over a thousand, the Kh'rask simply did not stop. Thousands of them steamrollered through Cardwell's men, hacking and slashing as they went. Miraculously, none of them hurt the already maimed trooper who'd lost an arm to the plantlife...

Struggling to move from the corpses around him, Beckenbauer opted to use his plasma cannon whilst he was trapped. After firing a few bursts at surrounding Kh'rask, he had worked his way free and charged through the Kh'rask trying to attack the others.
You WILL face me! he screamed, trying to crush a Kh'rask with his free hand.

Gates of Berlin, Orbit

"Looking nasty down there."
"Indeed. Well they did get themselves into it...oh dammnit, if only Frank didn't want the girl. Have 1st Company make ready."
"Sir"

Blood.

Gallons of it littered the battlefield, as the Kh'rasks decimated the Kahanistanian defenses. The Javelins were running low, and now the Kahanistanians, reduced to about forty in number and still having about twenty minutes before their reinforcements got in, were reduced to fighting with hand grenades and well-aimed rifle shots to the eyes and opened mouths of the Kh'rasks.

Caldwell himself was wounded, his foot crushed by a falling Kh'rask. He was on one knee now, but still commanding his troops from behind the dead body of a Kh'rask, shooting over its head at its living buddies.

Sergeant Miriam Steinberg lay down, injured and holding a Javelin ATGM launcher in her remaining hand. She had bent over about three hours earlier to pick up a plant, and the thing had instantly wrapped its tendrils around her arm and ripped the bone out from her flesh. She had only been saved when someone dropped a grenade which set the plant thicket alight and applied pressure to stop her bleeding.

A Tavor lay next to her. She struggled to her feet, holding the rifle by its strap in her teeth and readying the ATGM...

---

Fulton's blaster ran out of charges. Realizing that the Kh'rasks were mainly targeting the Skgorrian Storm-General, she sat down between his legs and fired her IMI Tavor at the Kh'rasks.

The soldiers whose M-203's and FGM-114 Javelin ATGM's had run out of ammunition sat beside her. They were firing incendiary rounds at the eyes of the Kh'rasks now.

Immolating fifty with his plasma burst, the arch-demon added to its already considerable total by crushing another Kh'rask in his robotic hands. A second leapt at him, claws flailing. The mound of Khrask, now numbering over 500 (down considerably from 900 just moments ago!) whirled and flowed towards the arch-demon, determined to remove it at all costs...

1,000 feet above Cardwell's Position:

"Let 'em have it, squadron."

And 12 Scimitar assault bombers unleashed their payloads onto the last known position of Cardwell and his troopers. In the resulting conflagration, 3,000 or more Kh'rask died.

Yet still they came, ten thousand strong...

Reacting instantly, he swung at the leaping beast, smashing at it with his plasma cannon. He felt the cannon go offline, but he didn't care. He let it fall to the ground and held his chainsabre in two hands, continuing his beserk attack. However he could feel the stimulant slipping back from him...NO! It had to stay, it had to!

The rifle ran out of charge, and Gorobets screamed. She didn't know what else to do, so she swung her rifle like a club.

A passing Kh'rask, smacked on the central nervous ganglion by Gorobets' widly flailing blaster, died spasming.

The spasms of the beast ripped into Gorobet's chest, but luckily it mostly caught her uniform and tore a large chunk out of it, but some of her flesh was still removed by the claws of the beast. Gorobets fell screaming, blood welling between her fingers.

He caught sight of this out of his peripheral sensors. It reminded him of...
Daddy, where are you? Please, help...
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Beckenbauer dropped his sword and fell to his knees, clutching his head. Make it go away, please!

Prisoner Transport 0912, en route to Penal Planetoid

"So, we're on a ship full of political prisoners going to a penal colony for them to be executed?"

"Don't be stupid, jackass."

"Well, why don't we shoot them? I mean, we've got guns, and they're packed in like sardines..."

"Hmm...shut up while I think about this...Interesting. Finally, Estragon, you make sense."

"Thank you, Vladimir. I'll turn the ship around, you go execute the prisoners."

"With pleasure."

Fulton jumped up, seeing Gorobets swinging her rifle around. Without thinking that she was exposing herself to enemy action, she pushed her TAR-21 and a clip into Gorobets' hand. "Get under the mech guy, take aim at their eyes!" She pulled out her 9mm Beretta M9 and crouched down.

When the mech went down, Fulton and her party began chucking hand grenades over him at the Kh'rask. Schultz grabbed Gorobets and pulled her behind the mech, giving her a box of hand grenades.

"Can you call for help on that thing?" Fulton asked, referring to Gorobets' communicator.

---

Caldwell's troops were a half kilometer or so from their last known position, but some of the advance guard were caught in the explosion. Caldwell himself was shielded from the heat by the body of the Kh'rask he was hiding behind, but he personally saw two other soldiers incinerated. He guessed another ten or so were in the fireball that he didn't see.

A soldier ran up to him...

A Kh'rask foot was about to crush the commander into paste...

Caldwell turned to the soldier next to him.

"Tell Mara... I... love her..."

The soldier grabbed his commander, ignoring his words. He dragged him out of the way of the foot...

It was too late, death was near for them...

BOOM!

The Kh'rask suddenly went down like a felled tree. Caldwell looked behind him.

A woman with one arm sat down nearby, holding a Javelin, still smoking at the barrel. Behind her, the cavalry arrived. Well, infantry, anyway. The reinforcements were here.

"Remember, make every shot count!" commanded the Second Lieutenant. He was wounded, a casualty of an Ohmyfuckinggaaarghmyleg beast, but was carried because the reinforcements couldn't just leave him laying around.

"Might be time to put some distance between us and the Kh'rask?" he asked.

Caldwell staggered toward the reinforcements. "You heard the man. Retreat!" They would let the bombers do the work on the Kh'rask. As long as they didn't run into anything else, then they were safe. They weren't going to get cooked by the Skgorrian bombers any more if they could help it.

A rear guard of about thirty fired Javelins to cover their retreat, but were more interested in slowing down the enemy than in killing a lot of them.

Voices:

"How is he?"
"He'll live."
"If you can call that a life."
"The needs of Skgorria outweigh his."
"As you command sir."
"Can you hear me Beckenbauer?"

Voices fade.

Senses come back.

As the blows of Kh'rask slammed against his armour, the Storm-General slowly stood up. He couldn't see either of his weapons, so he resorted to lashing out with his hands and feet in a deadly mockery of the Kh'rasks.

Gorobets was trying to fire the new weapon that Fulton had given her, but she'd never fired a projectile weapon before and the recoil sorely affected her accuracy. When the Kahanistani pulled her down, she dropped the weapon and the ammunition and was scrabbling to recover it when a box of explosives was shoved in her hand. She tore the box open and pulled one out, then realised she had no idea how it worked. Air Force weapons drill didn't cover grenades, so she guessed that all you had to do was throw it. She sent a grenade flying with all of her might, and was rather panicked by the lack of an explosion.
"Oh gosh gosh gosh they don't work what are we going to do we're all going to die!" Her outburst was stopped by the Kahanistani's question, to which she nodded.
"Yes yes yes!" She thumbed it on and spoke,
"Hello there?"

Gates of Berlin
"Sir," reported the comms officer, "signal on the Atopian Command Frequency."
"Probably just the Governor-General ranting, still we may as well listen in," sighed the Station Commander.
"Hello there? This is Junior Deckhand Gorobets on the surface I know you guys don't like me much but we need help please oh gosh let someone be there"
"Shall I sir?" asked the comms officer.
"This is supposed to be the province of the Atopians," the Station Commander reminded the comms officer, "but Storm-General Beckenbauer is supposed to be down there by himself, and I'll be damned if he'll go through this alone. Get a platoon of Kriegsmarine down there, at once."
"Shouldn't we call up the Atopians sir, they might get rather narked off."
"Drokk it," snarled the Station Commander, " 'Action without Delay!' Get that platoon down there."
"Sir!" saluted the comms officer, who then relayed the orders to the launch control. He then sent a message back to Gorobets,
"This is the Gates of Berlin, Kriegsmarine are inbound to your position."

At this, Gorobets perked up and yelled, "the Kriegsmarine are coming!"

"Good!" said Fulton. She pulled the pin on another grenade and threw it into a group of Kh'rasks. "The grenades, you pull the pin on them and they go off in a few seconds, so you've got to throw 'em fast once you pull the pin."

"Now how long before those Kriegsmarines show up? We're running out of ammunition. You fire the Tavor the same way you fire a blaster, load it and pull the trigger."

Bridge, ASV Victory:

"Grud wept," moaned Number One, "those Kh'rask have overrun the KRG, and the Scimitars haven't done anything and they've expended all their payload in the process!"
"Well," declared the Captain-General, "as the saying goes, action without delay! Time to demonstrate the might of the Victory, I think."
"What, superlasers?"
"No, don't be stupid, we've got troops down there. A Base Delta Zero will suffice, I think. Target a region five miles in diameter centered on the KRG's last position."
"Sir. How about having Guns miss the region around Storm-General Beckenbauer and just purge a bigger area?"
"If you're confident we can have a 99% accuracy rate, then go for it by all means."
"Sir. Action!"
"Unity!"

Saluting, Number One strode over to the gunnery officer's pits to order the bombardment...

Gorobet's Position:

Ignoring the hand grenades, which were useless against the Kh'rask, and openly laughing - flashing alternately yellow and green - at the 9mm rounds that were ricocheting off their head structures, the aliens continued their equally useless onslaught against Beckenbauer, the human tank.

Despite the ineffectual nature of the main assault on the Ubersoldaten, the Kh'rask were making mincemeat out of Fulton's party, yet, mysteriously, they continued to avoid both Fulton and Gorobets...

Gun Bay Seven Alpha Six, ASV Victory:

"Fire!"

Incandescent bolts of superheavy turbolaser fire from a tertiary bombardment battery leapt through the void at the speed of light, impacting on and around the Kh'rask main force. Methodically, the gunners worked their bombardment up and down the grid squares, obliterating everything that existed above the bedrock in a maelstrom of energy release. The Kh'rask all pack ceased to exist within seconds - yet the bombardment continued for half an hour...

Gorobet's Position:

Surrounded by sheets of light and buffeted by a wall of sound, the remaining Kh'rask, confused and stunned by the ferocious energies of the bombardment (which had been designed to avoid killing the Storm-General), ran.

Scattering from the remnants of Fulton's party, the Kh'rask sped to their deaths in the unceasing fury of the Victory's guns...

"Drokk!" cursed the transport pilot as the Atopians bombarded the surface, "we're supposed to be going down there." He slowed the transport down and changed course to avoid the bolts.
"Stow the chatter and get us down there," ordered the Kriegsmarine officer. She was glad that she hadn't taken the drop-pods, or else they would all be dead now. Her squad behind her showed no sign of nervous tension, after all they were Kriegsmarine.

Having changed course, the transport came down hard near Storm-General Beckenabuer's position. As the rear ramp came down, the squad of Kriegsmarine charged out, weapons at the ready - except that all the Kh'rask seemed to be dead, and the only things left were an immense pile of bodies, a raging Ubersoldat, some bloodied Kahanistanis and a fainted Air Force crewwoman. (It had all been too much for Gorobets and she had fainted). The Kriegsmarine promptly saluted Storm-General Beckenbauer.
"Sir, Storm-Captain Svetlanka Brandenburg reporting!" The mighty mech's head snapped around:
"Sve..sve...Svetlanka?" he asked, his tone shaky.
"Why yes sir, that was my birthname, though in life I serve Skgorria." The Storm-General started shaking, then promptly ran off screaming. The Storm-Captain shrugged, then adressed the Kahanistanis,
"How many of you are alive then?"

The rear guard that was covering the retreat of Caldwell's forces were almost completely vaporized - 24 disintegrated, three other KIA, and three with critical burns. The burned soldiers continued to run, pumped on adrenaline and fleeing in terror, not even noticing that the Kh'rask threat was over...

---

Fulton's unit

Major Fulton looked over her party, which had started out as ten. With Gorobets, there were eleven in total.

"Jenson's dead now... so's Dawson, Reynolds is barely pulling through..." Schultz was limping, hit by a rock, Fulton herself was exhausted, and her injured leg was bleeding again. She had two dead on her hands and five wounded.

The Major struggled to her feet, breathing heavily. "We've got eight living, but a couple of us are critical," she said, indicating the man who was laying near where the Ubersoldat had been, barely breathing, bloody, and growing pale.

"Do you know where the rest of my troops are?" asked the officer. Even after having experienced mortal terror, she was still concerned for the soldiers under her command.

Two of the Kriegsmarine moved forward and picked up Gorobets, one grabbing under her shoulders and the other hoisting her up by the legs. They started carrying her over to the shuttle whilst another Kriegsmarine went to retrive her rifle.
"Good to see that some of your lot made it," stated Brandenburg, "Dawson, medpac!" Another Kriegsmarine retrieved a small box from the shuttle and threw it at the feet of Fulton.
"Its got bandages and painkillers in there, plus a few disinfectants. Enjoy. By the way, your mates are that way." With that, the Kriegsmarine borded the shuttle and took off, leaving the Kahanistanis alone.

Bridge, ASV Victory:

"Firing solution results in, sir."
"And?"
"Nothing moving in the target zone, and it would appear that we sucessfully missed the Storm-General."
"Excellent. Tea and medals all round!"
"Jolly good, sir."

Governor-General's Office, Fort Frank:

"The Skgorrians have Gorobets and are bringing her in now, Governor-General."
"Excellent. Prepare her new uniform and rooms, and inform me when she arrives."

The Major picked up the box of medical supplies. The medic was dead, but all Kahanistanian soldiers had basic first aid training. Fulton bent down next to the critically wounded man. He'd lost a lot of blood and was barely hanging on. Without a transfusion, he had no hope of survival.

"There's nothing I can do for him, unless somebody has O-negative blood," she said, checking his dog tags. "He's gone into hypovolemic shock." In plain English, that simply meant his blood volume was too low and his organs were failing.

None of the soldiers had O-negative.

Shit.

He's not going to die on my watch. "OK," said Major Fulton. "I'll breathe into him, we lug him and the other wounded in the direction that the Skgorrians pointed, we should find Lieutenant Caldwell soon enough." This would hopefully keep the casualty's blood oxygenated until they could get him to someone with a compatible blood type.

With the numerous leg injuries it would be difficult to move rapidly if they were attacked again, and their lack of ammunition would make it difficult to defend themselves against further attacks.

Corporal Schultz continued trying every fifteen minutes to raise Caldwell on the radio, to see if they were coming into range.

Eventually, Fulton tired while breathing into the injured Reynolds, and had another soldier take over for her.

I hope that Skgorrian girl is going to be all right... She had never gotten her name. She did, however, feel she owed it to her to try to help her, but the Skgorrians had taken off before she could even ask for a medevac, let alone what they were doing with her. Gorobets had probably saved most of the group from annihilation by the first Kh'rask attack.

---

Meanwhile, Caldwell's forces realized they were no longer being pursued. They turned around, collected their dead and wounded, and headed back to the base camp where they had fought the Kh'rasks. It would take another hour or so to return there at normal walking speed.

Caldwell's command had not given up trying to reach Fulton, either, not even while fleeing the Kh'rasks and bombers. They made efforts to contact her every half hour.

Both commanders independently gathered that most of the Kh'rasks in that area must have been wiped out. They no longer feared the Kh'rask, but after a few scares with the plants, they avoided anything green like the plague.

Kriegsmarine Shuttle

Gorobets sat bolt upright,
"wh..wh..where am I?" she asked, wanting to ask more but then shutting up as she realised she was in a shuttle full of Kriegsmarine. They all turned to look at her, their helmets staring back at her.
"You're safe," stated one of the soldiers, leaning back to rest against the shuttle's wall.
"Damn lucky too girl, it looked nasty down there. Well fought!" The praise in the Kriegsmarine's voice was genuine.
"To face the full might of the Kh'rask in the open field with almost no support...and to fight at the side of Storm-General Beckenbauer," another Kriegsmarine sighed. "The ultimate experience of purification and testing." One of the Kriegsmarine stood and raised a clenched fist,
"Fellow Kriegsmarine, this woman here has stood on the plains of battle and faced an enemy truly savage - and emerged victorious. I say we make her Honorary Kriegsmarine, as to have survived down there for so long she must be a mighty warrior. What say you, has she passed the test of Blood and Iron?"
"Aye!" came the resounding chorus as the other Kriegsmarine copied the clenched fist gesture.
"Congratulations girl," the standing Kriegsmarine offered, "take this." The Kriegsmarine then reached down to one of his comrades and removed the rank strip from the top-right of the sitting soldier's chestplate. He then handed it to Gorobets without any complaint from the sitting Kriegmarine. "That's the insignia Storm-Private of the Kriegsmarine. Keep it well, Honorary Storm-Private." All of the Kriegsmarine snapped a salute at Gorobets, who gingerly returned it. This was all far too much - only a few hours ago she had been a Junior Deckhand in a serious ammount of trouble for screwing up a maintenance routine, then involved in combat against sentient rock-men, and now she was being made an honorary member of the SS!
"Urm..thanks...sir?" she guessed, adressing the Kriegsmarine who was standing up and had given her the rank strip.
"Storm-Corporal," he corrected her, "our Storm-Captain is up in the cockpit. Now tell us, what's it like to face wave after wave of Kh'rask?"

The Surface

He ran, and ran, and ran. Thousands of years of research and development ensured that he kept running at a constant speed of 45 mph, as if sheer speed could carry him away from the jagged blades of the memories left within his shattered memories.
Svetlanka...Svetlanka...why?

Command Centre, 'Gates of Berlin'

"Junior Deckhand has been secured and is on her way up," reported the comms officer. Storm-Major Yuklig smiled,
"Excellent. Any casualties on the part of the landing party?"
"Negative sir, but apparently our guests took quite a beating."
"Damn shame," Yuklig shook his head, "any progress on getting the Kahanistani frequency?"
The comms officer perked up,
"yes sir, I think I have it. We might not get every single letter through due to equipment issues, but I reckon we should be able to talk to them. Shall I put you through?"
"Good job Lieutenant, award yourself a three-day pass at once! Yes please put me through."
Beaming, the comms officer handed the Storm-Major a headpiece. All the other command centre staff were looking on with thinly disguised jealousy, envious of the Lieutenant's three-day pass. Yuklig secured the headpiece, then spoke.
"Hello, Major Fulton, do you read me? This is Storm-Major Yuklig, do you read me?"

Command Bunker, Governor-General's Offices, Fort Frank:

"Right," declared Frank, as she filed her nails, "now that that Kreigsmarine shuttle's got Gorobets, order them to land here and have Gorobets immediately escorted to my offices. Also, recall that scout I sent out for her - and when he gets back, send him and four more men out to find the Storm-General. Understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am Frank," snapped the uniformed youth, "at once!"

Repair Bay Nine, ASV Victory:

"Damn," said Technician Second Grade Remkin, "this flux-coupling is a right bastard. Hand me the left-twist screw-ratchet will you?"

The Kahanistanian commander picked up her radio. Had Caldwell managed to locate her? She answered the call.

No. This voice was vaguely familiar, and it didn't sound like Caldwell. Then he identified himself as Storm-Major Yuklig...

"This is Fulton. Your connection is very poor, Storm-Major. We need medical attention and need to be taken to our main forces. We have wounded, critically. We have two KIA, two criticals, three walking wounded. We're out of ammunition, cannot survive another Kh'rask attack. Over."

Outbound Scout

Scout First Class Heydrich was most annoyed - first of all Command had ordered him to drive in a straight line for several hours, now they wanted him to come back and then go out again!
"Can't I just wait here for the others to catch up?" he moaned.
"Certainly not Heydrich, now bloody hurry up. The Governor-General is in one of her moods" came the reply.
Groaning, he swung the bike around and headed back.
"On my way," he sighed. At least he had his Ipod...

Gates of Berlin

"Roger that, Major Fulton," responded Yuklig. He then turned to the comms officer,
"tell our shuttle to turn around and head back."
"Sir," started the comms officer, "the Atopians insisted it go straight to Fort Frank. Direct orders from the Governor-General."
"Damn!" Yuklig swore, "what the hell are we supposed to do now?"
"If I might make a suggestion Storm-Major," ventured the station's security chief, an aging Air Force crewman who had once served in the Storm Commandos. "We still have assets at the Fort. Have them send out a shuttle, dump a few Kriegsmarine in it. It'll be far quicker than sending something down from orbit, unless you want a drop-pod sent..."
"No, I've had enough of those damned pods. It would take to long to recover any of them if things get rough. Very well then, contact the Fort and have our Kriegsmarine send a shuttle with medics and equipment to the Kahanistanis," Yuklig decided. He once again took up the headpiece and transmitted,
"Fulton, this is Yuklig. We're sending medics to you now. ETA roughly fifteen minutes, its the quickest we can do."

Fort Frank

The shuttle screamed out of the Fort as soon as the ramp had closed. Medics and supplies were on their way...

Fulton's unit

"We copy, will maintain position for twenty minutes. Over."

A few minutes later, another radio transmission came through.

"This is Caldwell. Do you copy? Over."

"Roger. We've been worried. We intercepted a radio transmission from the Skgorrians." The Kahanistanians on the surface all used the same radio frequency, so Caldwell could hear what the Skgorrians said to Fulton as well as she could, which wasn't well. What he could not figure out, however, was her exact position, only that they were within range of each other's radios.

"Glad to know you're safe. We just lost about a third of our force to the Kh'rask, but we pulled through. We have seventy-one... seventy-two bodies, forty-five wounded, and twenty-two missing. Over."

"Things aren't too good here, either, we're waiting for Skgorrian medics to pick us up, ETA in... six minutes. We have two dead, two critical, three other wounded here. Over."

"What's your position?" asked Caldwell. "We used most of the medical supplies here, but we still have some left. Over."

"Don't know," Fulton replied. "We don't have a GPS. Sorry. Over."

"We'll find you eventually, don't worry. Over and out."

---

Main force

Caldwell's unit did, however, have a GPS. He ordered his radio soldiers to try to locate Fulton's position by triangulating the location of her last radio communication. The process would probably take longer than the estimated four minutes before the arrival of the Skgorrians, but that didn't matter, or wouldn't matter if he wasn't being pressured by the more distrustful soldiers, who thought the Skgorrians were not to be trusted. Their position wasn't exactly weakened by the fact that stray bombs had killed and injured over two dozen soldiers.

"We need to catch up to her before the Skgorrians do, Lieutenant. Those Nazis are going to identify the Jews among her team, kill them, and they'll probably take turns with the women. I don't think I need to spell that out for you."

About a quarter of Kahanistan's population was Jewish (though less than two percent were Orthodox, and fewer than ten percent were religious), and Jews tended to serve in the military in greater numbers than the general population; the military was about one-third Jewish. On top of that, many of the soldiers were Semitic Arabs, which formed nearly half of the population, the balance being composed of immigrants from other countries, mainly blacks and Asians but also Persians and Europeans.

The point that the soldier was trying to make, of course, was that the odds of there being Jews in Fulton's pod were very, very good.

"Don't know how they'd identify the Jews," said Caldwell. "They don't have big noses and sacks of money, you know. Or any of that other stereotypical crap." His own nose was quite large, and he was clearly not Jewish at all, but black.

Throughout the force, emotions were high and they were beginning to factionalize. One faction under Caldwell felt that the Skgorrians could be trusted as long as they were kept at arm's length. Another, under Steinberg, held that the Skgorrians were as genocidal as their Nazi ancestors. A third, minority faction, composed mostly of home-grown Nazis and Holocaust deniers, numbering no more than ten, felt that the Skgorrians were trustworthy, honorable people who espoused a perfectly noble ideology and were horrifically maligned by "Zionists." The fact that ethnic nationalism was frowned upon in Kahanistan (it and religious fundamentalism had caused a long, bloody war in Kahanistan generations ago, in which the fundamentalists were all but wiped out) did not seem to dampen their ardor against the "Zionists."

If the Major and her party were not returned soon, there was no telling what would happen to the command structure. The mistrust of the Skgorrians had grown extremely divisive and would only deteriorate until Fulton was returned.

Atopian Aerospace Force Shuttle Blue 29, 345th Transport Squadron, 98th Logistics Wing, 405 Group:

"This is Flight-Corporal Sternberg to Major Fulton, do you copy, over?"

Governor-General's Offices:

"Where the hell is that Skgorrian shuttle," roared Frank, "it should've been here by now!"

The Kahanistanian commander replied on her radio. "This is Fulton. I'm reading you loud and clear."

The injured soldier who was getting constant air from the rest of the troops in shifts suddenly went into cardiac arrest.

"Shit! Shit!" exclaimed the soldier who immediately began doing CPR on him. They didn't have a defibrillator on them. "His heart's stopped! Major, what's the story on those goddamned medics?" He was clearly frantic, and apparently had less than a rosy view of the honesty of the Skgorrians.

"We've got a medical emergency down here, can you give us the ETA for medical assistance?" She couldn't tell the Skgorrians from the Atopians over the radio, nor did she care as long as the person on the other end could tell her when the medics were arriving.

"Aah, wait a moment Major, I've been given new orders. I'm afraid I'm diverting to Lt. Cardwell's position - there's another aid shuttle ahead of me on the way to you. ETA ten, that's one zero, minutes. Out."

That said, the Flight-Corporal grimaced to his co-pilot and swung the shuttle round, opening the throttle as he did so.

"To the Lieutenant it is, Muammar..."

Kriegsmarine Shuttle, Inbound

"Transmission spike!" yelled the shuttle's navigator. "Head that way!" he gestured to the right. The pilot promptly threw the shuttle around and screamed to the source of the transmission, almost slamming the shuttle into the ground as he cut in the repulsorlifts at the last moment. The 2 Kriegsmarine medics virtually leapt from the shuttle and darted to the Kahanistani. One of them looked at the prone figure, then spoke to his team-mate.
"Cardiac arrest, we need to re-start his heart!"
"I don't have a defrib," the other medic responded, rumaging through his kit. "All I have is my stun baton."
"Fucking brilliant time for an equipment shortage!" snarled the first Kriegsmarine, snatching the stun baton and adjusting the charge level. "Stand back," he ordered, poking the prone Kahanistani figure in the chest and sending a current into him. Hopefully the charge would be enough to start his heart....

Shuttle Blue 29:

"This is Blue 29 to Lieutenant Cardwell, do you read? We're five minutes from your position, please advise local ground conditions, over."

No good. The soldier merely jolted, but didn't otherwise respond.

"He's in shock. He probably has internal bleeding," said Fulton. "He was hit by a Kh'rask. It's a miracle he's held on this long. We need to get him to a medical facility."

The casualty was indeed very pale, and had several broken ribs. It was quite possible he had internal bleeding, but unlikely that the ribs had penetrated his lungs, as he had held on in this condition for about four hours. The soldiers had kept him warm only by raising and tying off his legs, and covering him with their spare jackets.

---

Caldwell's unit

"Open plains, lots of dead Kh'rasks," said Caldwell. "Pretty rocky, but there's an open spot about a kilometer north of our current position."

The two Kriegsmarine looked at each other.
"Are we allowed to do that, Storm-Corporal? Take them back to the Fort?"
"We were told to aid the casualties in any way Storm-Private," reminded the Kriegsmarine, "and if the best way is getting him to the Fort then so be it. Orbit will take too long, it would be best part of fourty-five minutes before he'd be in bacta and that will be too late for him." He then looked at Fulton,
"we can take him with us and give him help, but you have two choices: you stay here or you wait in the shuttle. The Governor-General won't allow you in the compound, but if we keep you in the shuttle you should be fine. I know you probably want to remain at the side of your man the whole time but that cannot happen. Choose."

What the hell is bacta?

"We'll go up in the shuttle," said Fulton. She radioed to Caldwell's unit to tell him she'd be going into the shuttle.

"Caldwell, this is Fulton. I'll be going up in a Skgorrian shuttle with our wounded. Return to camp and hold down the fort. Over and out," she said.

There were several other wounded in the team; most were walking, but some had some pretty serious injuries that would have required surgery back home.

---

Caldwell's forces

"See, I told you she's OK. You're too paranoid," Caldwell said to Sergeant Steinberg. "She's just going up in a shuttle with her wounded, they should be coming to the camp as soon as their casualties are taken care of."

"She's going with them?" Is she really that naive? "She actually trusts them?"

"Not really, but from what I gathered, she doesn't have a lot of choice if she wants to save her guys," said Caldwell.

Meanwhile, around the camp, the soldiers who had been wounded in combat were taken to the medical tent, where there were some bags of preserved blood, sutures, disinfectants, and general medical supplies. They were also hydrated; the water crates each held over a thousand bottles, and there were about twenty of them. Some of the soldiers tried digging a well, just in case. They would also want water to wash with, not just the four thousand or so baby wipes they'd brought with them.

Fulton's Poistion

"Then we go now," ordered the Kriegsmarine. Both of them picked up the casualty and carried him into the shuttle, placing him on a pallet. The shuttle took off as soon as the Kahanistanis got on board and raced back towards the Fort.
"What is your assesment of the injuries?" one of the white-armoured figures asked Fulton.

OOC: sorry for controlling your people and putting them on the shuttle, there seemed little point in slowing the story down. If you want I'll edit and you can put them on.

(No problem, as long as it doesn't affect character development [i.e. it's reasonably in character to do that] and there's a good reason for it. In future you might want to contact me on MSN or AIM, links in profile.)

"This one," said Fulton, "is very critical, he's had severe internal bleeding for four or five hours, our medical equipment is with the main force. The other critical," she rolled over an unconscious female, "has a cardiac injury, she got that about an hour ago, we just stopped the bleeding and carried her along."

The casualty had a rock spike about the size of a man's hand in her back, possibly a piece of a Kh'rask arm.

"Her heart's still beating, we didn't remove the spike." Kahanistanian field medical doctrine, along with much of the Western world at their stage of technological development, generally advised not to remove a stabbing object until the victim arrived at a hospital, otherwise the bleeding and damage would be aggravated.

"The other injuries are less serious," she said. She had shrapnel injuries in her leg from a grenade that bounced off of a Kh'rask. Another soldier had a broken leg and a mangled but still usable arm. A third soldier's hand was about half cut off from a piece of ATGM shrapnel that got too close. He also had second and third degree burns over about 20% of his body.

"We also have two dead, one near the landing point, one where we fought the Kh'rask with that mech guy. The one near the landing point was killed by a falling Kh'rask and the other one took a direct hit over the head from a Kh'rask. We don't expect you to help us find them, but if you could give us the directions from our encampment to our landing pod, we could find them and send the bodies back home."

OOC: Rightyo then :)

Fulton's Poistion

The two Kriegsmarine medics nodded as Fulton described all of the injuries and realised just how lucky they were to have full body armour. Most of the injuries the Kahanistanis had suffered would have been prevented by Kriegsmarine armour, which gave great protection against glancing blows and shrapnel.
"We can do something for a couple of you now," stated a Kriegsmarine as he produced a roll of tape from the small medkit and grabbed the soldier's arm which had a badly wounded arm. He firmly wrapped the tape around the hand, keeping the hand together.
"Dermatape," he explained, "it'll stop the hand from falling off before he gets to surgery." Meanwhile the other Kriegsmarine went around and gave a painkiller injection to those who accepted it and to whom it was safe to do so. The last thing he wanted to do was finish one of the Kahanistanis off in an effort to help them.
"Coming into land!" called the pilot as he flew through the entry port at the top of the Fort. He then set the shuttle down with a hard thump. He hadn't slown down because time was of the essence, and with that in mind he activated the emergency release on the shuttle ramp, which literally fell down as explosive bolts blew up the catches. At the bottom were more medics, who started to load the Kahanistanis onto stretchers as the Kriegsmarine who were onboard the shuttle informed the CMO of the status of the wounded.

OOC: Just so I keep track, all of the Kahanistanis wounded in the shuttle are
1. Fulton
2. Man with 4-5 hours internal bleeding
3. Woman with rock spike in her back (OUCH btw)
4. Soldier with broken leg and a mangled but still usable arm
5. Soldier with hand half cut off and burns

How healthy do you have, if any?

There were three soldiers who had no visible injuries. They went simply because it was even less safe for three soldiers with next to no ammunition than a squad of ten heavily armed crack troops to wander about with the risk of a walking rock or killer plant attack.

The soldiers sat by while the other soldiers were given painkillers and medication. They waited to be taken to the fort and reunited with their injured comrades when they were healed.

Fulton had another question. "We brought a mini radio transmitter with us, we thought it would be able to communicate with our people back home in hours. But, we haven't had any responses from home... do you have a communication system that can help us communicate in a time frame of less than, say, several days?"

A self-important looking black uniformed officer answered Fulton.
"Of course we do, primitive. Not that we'll let you use it." He waved at the two Kriegsmarine medics and pointed at Fulton.
"You men deal with this Bolshevik rabble, I've got an inspection to attend to and I don't have time to deal with babysitting," ordered the officer as he stormed off. The two Kriegsmarine saluted and said nothing until he was out of earshot, then one of them said quite clearly,
"Self-important Army idiot," gesticulating at the officer with the universal two-finger salute.
"They're all the bloody same," moaned his companion. "Look Major, when you get healed me and the Storm-Private here will be able to help you, but right now the medics are going to sedate all the wounded and take them into the medbay." One of the medics stood up from looking at the woman with a spike in her back and nodded.
"Standard security orders I'm afraid. Either we render you all unconscious and treat you, or you stay here. Your choice." The medic's eyes were cold, partly a result of psychological conditioning and training but also from seeing so much gore and death, two things that were never in short supply in the Skgorrian military. "Your healthy troops will stay in the shuttle," he finished whilst the rest of the medics stood ready to carry the wounded into the medical facility if Fulton agreed.

Fulton nodded calmly. She was all too familiar with security; at home it was her duty to ensure the safety of the President. "Go ahead," she said coldly. Assholes. She wasn't going to leave anyone under her command to just die simply because this Nazi had insulted her.

The other soldiers were feeling very offended about being called primitive, but with the life and health of several of their comrades at stake, said nothing.

As soon as the words had left Fulton's mouth, the medics jabbed the wounded Kahanistanis with innoculators. Seconds later, all of them were unconscious and on stretchers that the medics lifted and carried into the med-bay on the other side of the landing platform.
"Well that's that Storm-Private," remarked one of the Kriegsmarine, "I guess we need to wait here until they're all fixed up."
"Who knows how long that'll take," remarked the other Kriegsmarine. "Storm-Corporal, your swastika is chipping," he stated, pointing to the Storm-Corporal's right shoulder where a swastika was painted over the white armour in the standard manner of the Kriegsmarine.
"Drokk it," swore the Storm-Corporal as he looked down and rubbed his shoulder and saw small chips of red paint come off. "Third time this month I've had to redo this." He then looked up at the Kahanistanis and adressed them.
"Is there anything you need? Food, sanitation, water?"

They shook their heads. "We have our own supplies. What's so critical in the fort that you wanted casualties to be unconscious? I'd like to make sure none of your guys does anything... untoward with the Major or the other girl," said the Sergeant who was the most senior of the three healthy soldiers. His hostility toward the National Socialists had finally boiled over.

First, they had ignored Fulton's request regarding the directions to their dead so they could be taken to Kahanistan for burial, then they talked to her in a very condescending manner when she asked about getting ahold of their homeland, and now they were dismissing the Kahanistanians as Bolsheviks, despite the fact that Kahanistanian socialism was more similar to that of 2000 Scandinavia than Bolshevik Russia.

It was not surprising that the hostility they already felt would finally express itself, and without a commander who actually cared about smooth functioning with them, the soldiers decided to speak their minds.

"Excuse me?" coughed the Storm-Corporal. "Untoward?"
"What's he on?" asked the Storm-Private.
"Seems this one here thinks that our colleagues in Army Medical will treat the wounded with less respect than they deserve," snarled the Storm-Corporal, "let me make a few things clear to you: you're on another planet billions of miles from your home, a planet which is inherently hostile to human life. Also on the planet are thousands of soldiers whose technology level is so far above yours its not funny. Surrounding this planet are kilometre-long battlecraft who can burn the surface of this world from orbit, and in some cases destroy the planet utterly. Incidently, your only hope of getting home lies on those same craft. Now, a lot of people here wouldn't mind leaving you to die here, so your only hope of survival is to play along. The Governor-General, the Storm-General, Captain Petersen and the others in Air Force Command...they all don't care if you live or die. So if you want some help then I suggest you suck down some of that pride and stop throwing accusations around unless you want no-one to give a damn. Now me and the Storm-Private here," he pointed to the other Kriegsmarine, "think you lot are brave and we respect you. Stupid, but brave. If you want to throw away our help then go ahead, we'll leave you alone. Chances are next time we see you it'll be on a propaganda poster commemorating the slaughter of your bunch." Despite the obvious tension, none of the Kriegsmarine had made any moves to draw their carbines or assume any hostile position.

The soldiers made no move to go for their weapons, either. They were very low on ammunition, and weren't looking forward to dying or building their homes on that miserable rock. However, they weren't looking forward to the idea of sitting helplessly in the shuttle while their comrades were sedated and helpless with these arrogant Nazis.

"All right," the sergeant said, "but we'll have our own medics examine them after your guys have finished with them. If someone's done something, we'll find out. Capice?"

"Perfectly clear," snapped the Storm-Private. "If anything, they'll get the best healthcare they'll have ever had."
"I'll say," agreed the other Kriegsmarine. "Nothing like a good bacta dunk to cure what ails you," he added. "Storm-Private, you wouldn't happen to have any red paint in your pack would you?"
"Negative Storm-Corporal," the soldier shook his helmeted head."You'll have to wait until we're off duty."
"Damn," swore the Kriegsmarine, "Nader will have my ass in inspection. Never mind, we'll wait here until our guests finish treatment."

The Kahanistanian soldiers sat as far away from the Skgorrians as they could, and waited for their comrades to finish being treated.

---

Meanwhile, Caldwell's forces had the closest thing to a proper military base they could make with their numbers and equipment; they had a radio transmitter they could talk to Earth with (though it took three days to get a message out and another three for a reply), they had a working field hospital that had already discharged many of the less seriously wounded patients, and they even had a latrine pit, though bases back home generally had toilets.

The only thing lacking was a set of prosthetic limbs for the victims of the Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beasts and Kh'rask attacks. Those would have to wait until they returned home. One tent had been converted into a morgue to keep the bodies in until they were returned home, though without preservation facilities they would go pretty bad in the next few days. Caldwell had a soldier on morgue detail whose job it was to wipe decomposition fluids from the corpses and wash down the bodies with alcohol wipes every three days. Of course the soldier wore a gas mask, but they wore gas masks at night anyway, to train them to expect chemical warfare attacks at any time and also to protect them from the Pollovi.

They were also trying to find out where the stray drop pod had landed; they knew of two KIA from their radio communications, but setting up a patrol to look for them was going to be difficult until they had a survivor to join them as a guide.

We of the Ecotechnics Engineering Institute division of Ecological Warfare have a proposal to make. We wish to do bioassay work to collect specimens of the different life forms on this planet. Our ultimate goal is to copy the complete ecosystem of this planet so we can export it to peoples who do not have proper understanding of environmental protocols. We would like to build a base on this world where we can clone and do biological research work on the native life forms. We are prepared to make a considerable investment in time, troops, and money to do this.

Regards,

Prime Ecotechnician Darwin Crick

The two Kriegsmarine were happy that the Kahanistanis had settled down and stopped being confrontational. They started chatting idly about base gossip and the latest happenings, though they kept an eye on their guests.

-----------------------------------------------

"Report?" sighed the same officer who had been rude to Fulton earlier. Despite his protestations, he had been assigned to monitor the Kahanistanis. Looking up from a datapad, the CMO smiled.
"Our guests are doing great, they're all in the tanks." The CMO gestured to 5 glass tanks filled with a translucent blue liquid in which the Kahanistanis floated. Breathing gear was attached to their faces, and although they were breathing the Kahanistanis were clearly unconscious.
"Three of the casualties will have theur injuries will mostly be healed in a couple of days," continued the CMO. "One of the casualties had a rock fragment that had virtually penetrated her back, so she'll take a lot longer to recover, possibly another week. As for the casualty who came in with internal bleeding..."
"What about him?" snapped the officer, "what on earth about him?"
"Its touch and go with him," winced the CMO, "we're doing everything that we can for him, but it'll be a while before we know."
"Wonderful!" The officer rolled his eyes, "you mean he might die on us?"
"Well..." began the CMO before the officer threw his hands up in the air.
"Wonderful!" he exclaimed in mock excitement, "I'll just go and break the news, it'll give me some pleasure anyway before all of this goes down the pan." Shaking his head, the officer left the MedBay and walked across the landing pad to where the Kahanistanis were sitting.
"Want some news about your friends?" The officer had a clearly smug expression on his face.

-----------------------------------------------

For the attention of Prime Ecotechnician Darwin Crick

Your offer is being considered by our government and that of Atopiana. We will let you know when a decision has been made.

Captain Petersen
Skgorrian Air Force, Battlegroup Vigilance

The sergeant was quite obviously agitated by the apparent smugness of the Skgorrian officer. If they've done something to the wounded... He nodded tersely, expecting the worst.

"If you have something, spill it," he said brusquely. The other two soldiers looked at him nervously. Was he trying to start a brawl with the Skgorrians?

One of the Kriegsmarine saw the officer leave the MedBay and swore.
"Damnit Storm-Corporal, it's that Army goon!" he spluttered, "the Kahanistanis are going to punch his lights out."
"They wouldn't dare, Storm-Private," suggested the senior Kriegsmarine, "not after what I told them."
"I'm not so sure," remarked the other, "I suggest we go over there and make sure nothing happens. It beats standing around here."
"Agreed," sighed the Storm-Corporal, "come on, let's head over." The two Kriegsmarine began walking back at a leisurely pace to the Kahanistanis.

Meanwhile, the officer was enjoying himself.
"Well Bolshies, the good news is your Major will make a full recovery, along with 2 of your lot who had minor injuries. They'll be released in a couple of days. The girl who had a rock in her back, very careless of you to let that happen to such a pretty girl by the way," remarked the officer in an obviously provocative manner, "will be in the tank for a week longer. As for that other chap, he might not make it. Turns out he was rather roughed up." The officer's large grin clearly indicated he was enjoying himself.

The Kahanistanian Sergeant was livid with rage. He stood up and confronted the arrogant Nazi officer. "What did you do to her?!" he yelled at the Skgorrian, his eyes narrowing at the grin. "And I'm going to give you three seconds, exactly three fuckin' seconds, to wipe that stupid looking grin off your face before I gouge out your eyeballs and skull fuck you!"

The two Corporals behind him exchanged a concerned look, then nodded. "We'll have to stop him before he gets himself killed or us stranded." They walked up behind him; it was dangerous to disturb him when he was in one of those tirades.

The officer took a step back from the Kahanistani soldier who had stood up, jolted by the man's rage. As per the Kahanistani's request, the officer's grin faded, but was replaced by an expression of pure rage.
"Excuse me?" coughed the officer, balling his fists by his sides, "I would have expected better than feeble and grotesque threats, but then again you are Red scum and no better than your Jewish masters." Emboldened by his tough stance, the officer took a step closer to the Kahanistani so they were eye-to-eye.
"You've just dooomed yourself," he whispered, before turning his head away and waving at a guard station. "Arrest this man! He threatened an officer of Skgorria!" At this, 6 army troopers, stun batons in hand and with pistols strapped to their waists, exited the guard station and advanced across the landing pad. They would be at the officer's side in less than a minute.

The two Kriegsmarine heard the confrontation and ran towards the Kahanistanis, one stopping at the side of the Kahanistani sargeant and the other stopping near the other Kahanistanis. One of the Kriegsmarine spoke to the sargeant in a hushed tone,
"If you want your comrades to live, you'll go quietly."
The other Kriegsmarine spoke to the other Kahanistanis,
"You must make sure your sargeant goes quietly and complies with the officer, if he resists you're all dead and there's nothing we can do to help you."

The sergeant was still furious, but he allowed the soldiers to take him away to protect the two other soldiers in the shuttle. The Kahanistanian corporals looked at him with expressions of deep concern. They then slunk back to their corner of the shuttle. They would wait for Major Fulton to recover and then tell her what had transpired; but for now, there was nothing they could do for him.

Shaken, the two remaining NCO's sat in the back of the shuttle. One of them pulled out a book of Catholic prayers and thumbed through it for prayers for the dead.

"What, you think they'll kill Dawkins?" asked his comrade.

"I don't know... if they do, Fulton will be mad as hell... I was going to pray for Ned." Ned was the one who had suffered several hours of internal bleeding.

The Catholic soldier then began to pray quietly in Latin. The other soldier sat alongside him and repeated after him, though he was less religious.

The Kahanistani was swiftly cuffed and led away to the guard station, where all of his possessions were removed from his person and locked in a secure locker.
"Feeling big and tough now?" taunted the officer, clearly enjoying the enraged Kahanistani being humbled. "Throw him in a cube" he ordered, at which 2 burly troopers grabbed the Kahanistani and marched him into an elevator which carried them below the ground only after one of the troopers had given a retinal scan. Leaving the elevator after a brief journey, they marched down a long, spartan corridor lit by harsh artifical lighting. Along each of the walls were doors, and the party stopped at one of them. The door swung open, and the Skgorrian troopers pushed the Kahanistani inside.
"Enjoy your stay in the cubes," smiled one of the soldiers as the door closed, leaving the Kahanistani in temporary darkness. Light filled the small room after a second, revealing that the room measured no more than 3 metres in each direction. The room was a uniform white, and the only distinguishing features being a toilet and a glowing panel on the ceiling that lit the room. A small hatch could be found on the bottom of the door, but it could not be opened.

Meanwhile, back at the landing pad, the two Kriegsmarine continued to talk about what was going on.
"That Army piece of scum, what a wanker," remarked the Storm-Corporal as the Storm-Private nodded in agreement.
"Not that there's anything we can do about it though," sighed the Storm-Private.
"True," shrugged the other, "only the Storm-Major can do anything about it."

Sergeant James Dawkins sat in what he figured was some Skgorrian jail cell. Well, there were only nine days left on his tour, and he had had plenty of combat experience on his trip; it wasn't all wasted.

The Major should be getting out in about 36 hours... she'll get me out of this jam. This wasn't the way Kahanistanian officers handled things; then again, most Kahanistanian officers wouldn't deliberately provoke that kind of reaction except maybe in training, and then they generally wore padding in case someone boiled over.

He looked around for a way to escape, but only saw one hatch and a toilet. He was far too large to try to escape through the toilet, even if he could somehow remove it and access the pipe. Not even Fulton can fit through that thing, and she's, what, 50 kilos? Besides, there was no telling what was down those tubes. Probably Schlurps. He decided to wait two or three days before he would consider an escape attempt, to gather intelligence and give his comrades time to get out of the hospital.

Back in the shuttle, the Kahanistanian corporals amused themselves by playing Gin Rummy, speculating about what infernal horrors Dawkins must be suffering, and discussing which female officer they would most like to get in a tent with on a cool night.

ooc can the empire dum an group of specialforces under sentance here royol gaurds charged with murdering some of thier own sqaund unarmed but wearing power armour

fluid time later a dropship can bee seen decenting into the atmospere it laned and 120 batle brothers frogmarched the 10 royol gaurd tratior out of the dtop ship and said this the lead batle brother did today we strip you of your ranks think dread being striped of his gear) and tirleof royol gaurds now you go by the tilr of the black traitors

ooc can the empire dum an group of specialforces under sentance here royol gaurds charged with murdering some of thier own sqaund unarmed but wearing power armour


OOC: Yes, you can dump 10 people on the planet, but if you're leaving them as prisoners then they must have all weapons, armour and equipment taken off them. You also owe Skgorria $1,000 per person that you leave here.

Thankyou for choosing the Pact of Iron Detention Planetoid!

IC:

The Army officer was in his office, and having an arguement with an Air Force officer.
"Out of the question!" the Army officer snapped, "Out of the question! I refuse to let him out!"
In contrast to the ranting and raving of the Army officer, the Air Force officer remained patient and spoke in moderate tones.
"I realise, Captain, that I cannot overrule or order you. I don't wish to do that, but I do want to remind you about the man who brought the Kahanistanis from their world."
"And who was that? Some other Bolshevik whore?" spat the Army officer, staring daggers.
"A Special Action Division Storm-Major" stated the Air Force officer in an even tone, though trying desperately to keep a smirk off his face. Got you!
The Army Officer's jaw dropped,
"Special Action Division ? Here?"
"So, you might want to clear things up with him first, before you go executing the Kahanistani soldier. Wouldn't want to make him angry would we? Well, toodles." The Air Force Officer gave a small wave and walked out. As soon as he was out of sight of the stunned Army officer, he broke into a big grin.
Score one for Captain Petersen...
Back in the office, the Captain finally stopped shaking and pressed his comlink.
"Can someone bring the two Kahanistanis in to see me? I need to discuss the status of their..comrade."

The two Kriegsmarine couldn't believe their ears.
"He wants to talk to them? After marching their senior off to the cubes? The nerve!" exclaimed the Storm-Corporal.
"Orders is orders boss," shrugged the Storm-Private.
"It was more of a request, but what the hey." The two soldiers walked up to the shuttle and adressed the Kahanistanis,
"someone would like to see you, to discuss what happened to your comrade. Do you want to go?"

ooc fair enough but thier power armours grafted to em they need it to urvive money wired

ic van hell sing said what do we have here minimal threat ratio

ooc fair enough but thier power armours grafted to em they need it to urvive money wired

ic van hell sing said what do we have here minimal threat ratio

OOC: Well, as long as the armour contains no hidden weapons then thats fine. Money has been recieved. Bear in mind that if your prisoners survive too long and kill too many of the nasty beasties then I might just hunt them down.

IC: An Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beast spotted the food appear. There was once lots of food - but now only 10 food! Food is food, so it moved towards the new food ever so slowly...hoping that it wouldn't be spotted otherwise it would be food

The two men looked at each other. What if this were a trap? They decided this was unlikely; the officer had had a reason, albeit a weak one by Kahanistanian standards, to cart their comrade away. They got up and nodded their heads in agreement, then followed the marines.

---

Meanwhile, in the bacta tanks, the three less critical soldiers recovered from their injuries, though they had not yet regained consciousness. The man with the burns had almost completely healed, and his hand was now firmly attached. The shrapnel injuries in Fulton's legs had virtually sealed, and without leaving scars, either. She would have been proud of the process if she were awake to see it. The guy with the broken leg and mangled arm no longer looked maimed, but he would take a few more hours to recover.

However, the man who had suffered internal bleeding, though his organs were repairing in the tank, had taken a turn for the worse; signs of brain damage were becoming apparent. He had gone without sufficient oxygen for too long. The woman with the spike in her back was slightly better off, probably because she had bled less internally, the spike acting as a plug. She would require another three or so days in the tank.

van hellsing glared at the space marine and said retuirn to the emepoer you lapdogs

Making sure that the Kahanistanis had left their weapons in the shuttle, the Kriegsmarine led them into the guard station. Although the adjutant at the front desk complained about the Kahanistanis being let in, he let them go after checking that the Kahanistanis were indeed expected. They then passed through 3 internal checkpoints as they made their way deeper into the fort, each one consisting of a barricade, a war droid and several Army troopers. It took the party the best part of an hour to reach their destination, but they soon arrived at an office, on which the door read Captain Servchenko. Not bothering to knock, the Kriegsmarine opened the door and ushered the Kahanistanis in.
"Gentlemen," began the officer, "I will not punish your man to the full extent that Skgorrian law would allow me to, but instead he will remain in the cube until your comrades are healed. You understand? Good." The officer had not lost his pompous tone, and it was grating with the Kriegsmarine.
"Now, about the troops in the medbay," continued the Captain, "your senior officer and two others will probably have finished healing by the time you leave here. However the woman with the rock in her back will take another 3 days, and will make a full recovery. As I understand it, her healing process is just time consuming, that's all." The Captain swallowed and dabbed his forehead with a hankechief before speaking again,
"it seems that there are...complications with your other man. His brain has been damaged by a lack of oxygen, though we are attempting to repair what we can. THere is a very high chance that he will become a mental cripple."

The two corporals looked at each other. They still hated this guy's guts, though he seemed in a far better mood to them than when he had provoked the sergeant, and so they were in better moods, too.

"Is the Major conscious yet? Can we see her?" asked one of them intently. They were concerned for the welfare of all the soldiers, but they needed their CO back at the camp. Of course, they would have to check back in a few days to get the more critical patients and their Sergeant released. They saw no reason they should sit in the shuttle for days on end while the soldiers in the camp were probably worried sick about them.

the team walked about the prison and they looked around for a Kahanistan1

the team walked about the prison and they looked around for a Kahanistan1

OOC: Sephorith, just so you know, the only reason Kahanistan has any troops in the compound is beacause they were let in. The Kahanistani troopers aren't prisoners, they're here on a training mission and due to leave in 9 days I think. Your men are on the outside, in the wastes, and if they come near the compound a few thousands bored Skgorrians and Atopians will shoot them to tiny pieces. That is, assuming that the planet's wildlife doesn't do the job for me.

On that note...

IC: The food is moving - they are looking for something. Perhaps budding-mate, or more food?
Either way, the Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beast was hungry. Perfectly camoflaged by the tall grass, which it resembled very closely, it shuffled to the nearest of the Sephorith troopers and attacked it with its tendrils, trying to shred the hard armour and get at the juicy food.

-------

"I see no reason why not," stated the Captain. "I'll have the medteam release the healthy ones. You'll be able to meet them outside the medbay. Now go," he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. The Kriegsmarine saluted and led the Kahanistan troopers outside onto the landing pad, then to the waiting area of the medbay.

The medics had taken Fulton and the two other healthy soldiers out of the tank and siphoned all of the bacta out of them. They were experiencing a shortage of the vital liquid, and as such every last drop had to be conserved. The Kahanistanis would awake lying down on a bed in a wardroom, empty save that for an orderly who would direct them to exit through a door which would take them into the waiting area and allow them to reunite with the other Kahanistanis.

(OOC: I wasn't aware my base was in the compound. I was under the impression it was several miles away from the compound; proximity to Skgorrian troops would defeat the purpose of the training exercise and breed even more hostility.)

They found one soon enough. A group of three Kahanistanian soldiers was patrolling the perimeter of the soldiers' camp. They noticed the prisoners, but they generally tended to ignore them; while their nation was generally interventionist, and felt that incarceration in this miserable place had to be a violation of some international law, they lacked the supplies or ammunition to help mount a massive prison uprising, and in fact such was not their goal. However, their commanders would probably not have cared if the Skgorrians were wiped off the planet by the monsters or the prisoners.

The camp was fairly spartan; a few dozen tents aligned in columns and rows, centering around two huge pits. One was a latrine pit where the soldiers did their business; another was an attempt at digging a well that was now well over twenty meters deep. They had still failed to find water, but spent most of the time they were not on patrol digging it deeper. They had plenty of water to keep them alive for the few days they would still be here before being rotated out, but not enough to wash their dirty uniforms and clothes in. (They used baby wipes for cleaning themselves.)

Near the pits was a radio transmitter, which the troops used to communicate with their government. It took nearly a week to get replies, but some of the more technical-minded soldiers managed to figure out how to use it to send e-mail. This transmitter was the detachment's lifeline to the outside world and was the most heavily protected part of the camp. Patrols in the camp would kill any Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beasts with incendiary tracer rounds from their TAR-21's, or simply rupture Pollovi with a blow from a rifle butt. The soldiers had seen few Pollovi, but still wore their gas masks out of habit. The masks, in combination with their body armor and gray urban combat fatigues, would make for a very intimidating sight to most prisoners.

---

Three of the Kahanistanian soldiers sent to the hospital facility awoke, and were led to the waiting room to the other soldiers. Major Fulton asked about the two other soldiers who had gone into the hospital with her. "Did the others make it?" she asked. She was naturally concerned about the soldiers under her command, especially one she had spent over an hour personally doing mouth-to-mouth on to keep alive.

The two corporals who had stayed behind looked at the returning soldiers. They eyed the Major with a note of concern. She smiled warmly and nodded. "I'm fine. Where's Sergeant Dawkins?" The officer waited politely for the answers to her questions.

the lead one said in english you he said quitly come here said van helsing the burlest of the 10 soldiers said the soldier

meenwhile the other 9 had therm sight on and they spoted it the began c.q.c on it

ooc c.q.c closed qauters combat

OOC: woops should've made that clearer - yes Kahanistan, your main camp is roughly days travel by speeder bike from the compound. The troops I was referring to in my previous post were the ones who came in the shuttles. Curse my lack of clarity!

And sending e-mail over several lightyears? Now that's human ingenuity for you :)

IC:
The Chief Medical Officer decided to answer some of Fulton's questions.
"The woman whose back was punctured by a Kh'rask fragment will take another 3 days to fully heal. It's nothing dangerous or life-threatening, we just need plenty of time to heal her fully. Incidently Major, we found a small cancer in your body, but its been safely removed and you've been dosed with cancer prevention meds. Should protect you from cancer for ten years." The CMO stated this as a routine matter of fact, which for Skgorrians it was. Cancer was unheard of amongst the Skgorrians, and could be prevented with an injection and course of medication. The CMOs voice then took on a grave tone as he delivered the news.
"As for your other man...I'm sorry to say this, but chances are he will end up with severe brain damage. Whilst we don't know the full extent of it, we are almost certain it will leave him severely handicapped. He's a soldier under your command, so we haven't made any big decisions yet regarding him. I'm assuming you won't want him euthanisised, but of course that is an option. We can also either leave him as he is, or we can try and operate. Problem is, that the proceedure is rather complex and could leave him even worse. I'll let you decide, whatever you want done we'll do."
One of the Kriegsmarine then spoke up,
"Your Sergeant Dawkins has been placed under arrest for threatening a Skgorrian officer, and will be released when you leave this world."

----

The Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beast was soon pulverised by the combined force of 9 power-armoured troopers.

let us in were prisoners for here the space marines forgott o drop us of at adin they ditched us in the wastelands

ooc thier prisoners for here

let us in were prisoners for here the space marines forgott o drop us of at adin they ditched us in the wastelands

ooc thier prisoners for here

OOC: are the prisoners talking to the Kahanistanis, or are they at the Skgorrian base?

ooc the kasitasns

ic let usin

Black 29:

"Ah," smiled the pilot, "that's the camp!"

With a roar of retro-jets, the shuttle whined down onto the clearing near Lt. Cardwell's position, its white paint scheme standing out amid the dull green-grey landscape...

Governor-General's Office:

"Lieutenant," drawled Frank, "take that disgustingly ugly Skgorrian uniform off and change into the uniform laid out for you on your bed next door. When you've done that, come back here and you can start your new job."
"Um, um, Ma'am, I'm not a lieutenant and this is m-my uniform..."
"You are now, and it's not any more. Now get in that room and change at once, or I'll flog you for insubordination!"
"Flog me...?"
"Yes! You heard me! You're in the Atopian Space Force now, Gorobets, and you'll do exactly as I say from now on!"
"Y-yes, Ma'am!"

Saluting, shakily, Gorobets crossed to her annex and entered her new room. It was much larger than her room had been on board the Gates of Berlin, with a double bed (Strange, she thought, there's no-one else but me...), and a cupboard. A desk and chair was also present, along with bedside chests of drawers and an attached washroom. Luxury, compared to the tiny bunk-room she'd shared back on the Golan-II.

Removing her torn and stained red environment suit, Gorobets picked up the uniform - and sighed. It was too small for her, clearly. The skirt was far too high on her, the jacket too tight, and the boots' heels were unreasonably high. This couldn't possibly be the right set of clothes. Yet there was nothing else in the room she could wear, and it had been the set on the bed...

"Ah," smiled Frank, as Ingrid came back into the main office, "excellent. That uniform's just right. Now, your first task as my aide is to kneel on the floor so I can put my feet up on you."
"I... what?!"
"Don't answer back, lieutenant! Do as I say!"
"Ma'am," whimpered Gorobets, flinching, "that's not a usual task... I..."
"No excuses! Get on the floor!"
"Yes Ma'am."

Adjusting the way she sat, Frank smiled as she placed her jackbooted feet on Ingrid's back. Now to review the newest bunch of prisoners.

"Oh no," she said, "this simply will not do."

Flicking switches on her comms-unit, she rapped out orders to the Skgorrian contingent of the Fort:

"Locate the new arrivals and inform them to stay further than one mile from the Fort, on pain of death. If they disobey after this warning, disintigrate them!"

Kahanistanian Camp

1LT Moses Caldwell sat in his tent, grimly awaiting the results of the last attempt to contact his government. It wouldn't arrive for days, but he had something else to worry about.

"Sir," said an approaching soldier, "there are people milling around the base. I was about to warn them about the plants, then I saw them kill an OMF beast with their bare hands. These are some tough sons of bitches, Lieutenant."

"Let them into the camp," said Caldwell. "But don't give them any supplies or weapons, we can't spare them and we can't risk the Skgorrians finding out. I'll have a patrol go out and kill any of those OMF beasts within three kilometers of the camp. These guys might be able to teach us a thing or two about combat." I am such a genius. Mara's going to be so impressed with the way I ran this camp while she was out.

"Yes, Sir." The soldier nodded to Caldwell and left. A squad of ten soldiers was dispatched to hunt down and burn any patches of grass an Ohmyfuckinggaaarrghmyleg beast could hide in. Incendiary tracer rounds, white phosphorus grenades, and Molotov cocktails were the weapons of choice of the Kahanistanian soldiers for killing them.

---

Major Fulton had never had to make such a decision about the life of a subordinate before. Her duties at home had mostly consisted of taking reports of suspicious people hanging around the Presidential Palace and following up on death threats mailed to the President, which numbered in the thousands and over 99% of which were pranks. Not to say she had never experienced combat before; she had exchanged fire with Kraven Sardaukar in the capital and seriously feared for her life. But most of her career was just pushing papers, reading reports, filing documents, greeting foreign dignitaries, and finding the time to write her master's thesis in political science. Now, she was being asked to make a life-or-death decision for a soldier under her command for the first time in her life.

"I'll have to know just how serious his injuries are, what the prognosis is with treatment, and what the prognosis is without it," said the Major. She was still reeling from being told she had cancer. Hell, she was only 28 years old. She had always associated cancer with diseases of the elderly.

She had another command problem to deal with, too. Threatening a Skgorrian officer? What got into him? I'll have his hide. He could have gotten us abandoned here. One of the corporals explained the situation to her.

"Major, he was expressing concern for the soldiers being taken in to be treated, and this officer... he was talking about Red scum and our Jewish masters, your typical..." The corporal realized there were Nazis in the room, so saved the invective. "Typical National Socialist ideology."

Fulton nodded. I see. I'll talk to him, though. She was growing steadily more disgusted with the National Socialists and their paranoia about Jews and Communists. While Kahanistan had been founded by a subset of extremist Orthodox Jews, religion in general had steadily dwindled for decades, since the fundies (Jewish, Muslim, and Christian) had mostly killed each other in brutal atomic warfare long ago, and Jews were now a minority, somewhere around a quarter of the population. The notion of Jewish masters was absurd to her; her 2IC on this mission was a black man, she was of mixed Mediterranean origins, the Defense Minister who sent them there was Oriental, and the President was a pagan. Oh well, nobody ever said Nazis were smart.

She remembered that one of her soldiers had speculated that the Storm-Major might have liked her. Maybe he was completely wrong on this, but if it gets one of mine out of whatever hell hole passes for a jail here... She would have to talk to Yuklig after she had received the information to make a decision regarding Master Sergeant Reynolds.

van helllsing said good work my brothers
nrother van hellsong said by the gods of slaughter

The CMO nodded,
"Of course Major, it would be foolish for you to make any decisions until are properly informed. I'll have them sent to my datapad." He did sympathise with her position, it was never easy to make hard choices with those under your command. Still, she's taking the news about her cancer rather well he thought. Suddenly the CMO's datapad bleeped from his belt, and he withdrew it and began to read.
"Looks like the results are in, Major," he announced as he read them out loud. "Let me see...oh my...ouch," the CMO winced after reading one particular section.
"Well Major, here's your information: whilst the rest of the body will be fine, the brain has been severely damaged due to a proper supply of oxygen. Without treatment, your man will suffer an almost complete loss of motor functions and memory loss. With treatment, I am confident we can restore most of his memories and all of his motor control. However this process is extremely dangerous, with a 35% chance that he will not make it. The choice is yours."

The Kriegsmarine didn't envy the Major either, they had made tough choices in regards to squadmates. Normal SS practice would be for to let the man die on the battlefield, and the SS was only just beginning to reintroduce medics at squad level, despite protests that it would weaken the troops.

What would I want done if it were me? The Major figured that with the brain effectively dead, the person was basically dead. She was sickened that the Skgorrians would consider euthanasia so casually, but figured she should expect no less from Nazis. Not that she had anything against medically assisted suicide, but from the options given to her, the man would have either a near-100% chance of effectively being a vegetable, or a 65% chance of becoming normal and a 35% chance of death.

"I'd go with the treatment." As unethical as this sounds, I see no other choice if I want to save him... "If it were me, I'd rather be dead than a vegetable." I hope he makes it, I'd hate to have to tell his family that I got him killed. She was not looking forward to the letter she would have to send his family if he died, explaining that she was partially responsible for it...

She also had the soldier in the brig to free. "Would you know who I could talk to about getting my soldier out of your detention facility? We're only here for a few more days, we'd like to use this time for training."

one of them said yo bos were bored so van said beat someone up then

A lone soldier stood at one of the camp entrances, holding a TAR-21 assault rifle with a bayonet attached. He spied the prisoners who had been poking around the camp, figuring they might be trying to steal supplies. While he could care less if the prisoners made off with some weapons and raised a ruckus, he couldn't risk the diplomatic brouhaha with the Skgorrians.

The soldier walked up to the prisoner. "This is a military facility. We don't know what you guys want around here, but we don't have any supplies to spare. Our base commander should be back here in a few hours, you'll have to talk to her if you want something here."

one of them steped forward i am the chosen champion of my group in unarmed combat now prepare yourself
he entered his c.q.c stance

The soldier nodded. He had seen them tear up the vicious plant life there, but didn't really want to fight. "You don't want to fuck with me, boy. I know Krav Maga. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Krav_Maga) I don't have the time to play around with you assholes."

The man simply stared ahead. The marine would get the first blow in, if he still wanted to fight.

he smiled im no space marine boy

he threw a hard puch at him

Blood sprayed from the sentry's face as the blow broke his jaw. He raised his assault rifle and swung at the Black Squad man, aiming his riflebutt at the space trooper's chest.

he rasied his right arm to block it and threw a spin kick at his oppenant

The sentry fell to the ground, out cold.

fool the soldier muutered

"I'll get started on this right away then," stated the CMO. "This proceedure will take a few days, so I should imagine you'll want to go out to your friends at the camp. As for talking to someone about getting your man released, I'm afraid that is well and truly out of my area of expertise," he apologised, "perhaps one of these fine gentlemen," he said as he gestured at the two Kriegsmarine, "might be able to assist you. Now if you'll excuse me, I must scrub up and revise my neurosurgery." With a loose salute, he left the room.
"You came with Storm-Major Yuklig, yes?" Stated the Storm-Corporal, "then he should be a good one to talk to. Now tha the Storm-General's off on another of his looney ravings, he's got the most influence here out of all us Skgorrians. I'll get him on the line." The Storm-Corporal moved over to a wall terminal and started typing.

Bridge, "Gates of Berlin"

Yuklig was incredibly bored, it had been a few hours since he'd had the last Kahanistani communications intercepted and analysed. He'd paced up and down the bridge for a while, and had even stared at the stars for a while.
"Lieutenant!" he called, "I need something to do."
"Begging your pardon Storm-Major," the Gunnery Officer spoke up from his station, "but you gave the Lieutenant a three-day pass and he won't be back for a while."
"I wish I could give myself one of those," Yuklig sighed, drawing his sabre and fencing at an imaginary target. I know this sort of thing is prohibited under Air Force doctrine, but who's going to stop me? he thought, bringing the sabre down in a sharp cut that removed his imaginary opponent's left arm.
"Storm-Major!" called out the Ensign who had replaced the Lieutenant at the Communications station, "I have a message through for you from the surface. It's a Kriegsmarine, who says he needs to talk to you about the Kahanistanis."
"Excellent!" Yuklig cried triumphantly, sheathing his sabre. "Transfer it to my wall terminal," he ordered as he strode over and activated the viewscreen, briefly displaying the Skgorrian flag before being replaced by the white-helmeted visage of a Kriegsmarine.
"Storm-Major Yuklig," saluted the Kriegsmarine, "Storm-Corporal Fenstermacher here. Major Fulton would like to talk to you."
"Well put her on then," grinned Yuklig, "I'd love to know how she is getting on down there."
"As ordered sir," complied the Kriegsmarine, who then directed Fulton to step up to the viewscreen and speak.

the trooper picked up the unconious soldier s weapon and ammo

primiltie wapon hee said

The soldiers in the camp milled around, unaware of the space marine's intrusion until now...

---

The Kahanistanian commander stepped up to the viewscreen. She pushed her long dark hair behind her shoulders, framing her face.

"One of my NCO's is in your lockup, apparently there was some verbal altercation that got out of hand, and he was locked up. I'd like to have him released and sent to our base camp," she began. "Sergeant Dawkins is very important to our unit, we'd like to have him released as soon as possible, while he's in there he's also missing valuable training time," continued Major Fulton.

She smiled in an alluring manner, remembering the wild speculation that had gone on in the cargo bay, and tilted her head so as to expose her neck. "And there are... only a few days left of training, before we... rotate this crop out and put in another block of troops."

(Pic (http://i73.photobucket.com/albums/i206/Kahanistan/marakate78.jpg) of Fulton. She is in military dress uniform in the pic, but would be in gray urban combat fatigues on the planetoid. She is 5'6" and 110 lbs. with a generally slim frame.)

"No 'nice to see you, Storm-Major'? I'm truly hurt," said Yuklig in a mock-offended way. "A 'Sergeant Dawkins' you say...well let me check our penal records." Yuklig's attention was drawn off-screen for a couple of minutes as he accessed the prisoner database. Thank the Fuhrer for Ultra-level clearance he thought as his password enabled him to bypass several dozen layers of security. After checking the prisoner files, Yuklig once again focused on Fulton.
"Well, I've dug around Major, and according to our official records I see that one Captain Servchenko has detained a 'Bolshevik swine and hooligan' on the grounds of 'threatening an officer of the Master Race'." Yuklig's voice then took on an apologetic tone, "Major Fulton, I really must apologise for the conduct of the Captain, it is extremely unbecoming. The man is desperate to get accepted by the SS, and seems to think that bullying and idiocy are substitutes for dedication and martial prowess. He's very much a desk-bound soldier, more of a bureaucrat than a warrior. I'm sure that you have some in your military. Anyway, your man will be released at once, if you will just give me a second please." Yuklig retrieved a headset from the terminal and contacted the prison.
"Hello...yes, Storm-Major Yuklig here...yes, yes Captain, Sieg Heil Skgorria and all that." Yuklig rolled his eyes, pompous fool he thought. "About the Kahanistani...yes I heard...no, of course I'm not...I don't doubt that he was...anyway, I need him released...why thankyou Captain...send him to the landing pad, to the shuttle. Goodbye." Yuklig put down the handset and spoke to Fulton again.
"Major, your man will be at the shuttle outside in a few minutes," he announced. He then cleared his throat and spoke again,
"Major, I wonder if it would be possible for me to visit your camp for a while? I'm but curious as to how your organisation runs, and it would be a shame for us not to take advantage of the oppurunity whilst we are both here. I'm sure Skgorria can think of some suitable recompense for you allowing a foreign officer to wander the camp," he winked, cracking a cheeky smile.

The bridge crew of the Gates Of Berlin were highly amused by the antics of Storm-Major Yuklig. They started taking bets on how long it would be until the Storm-Major got slapped.

Fulton smiled and nodded her head. "Thank you very much..." she said. "You can join us on the shuttle to the camp, as soon as everyone who isn't still in the hospital gets there. You needn't worry about recompense, we have no objections to foreign officers learning about our military structure," the commander continued. "I could detail a couple of men to accompany you around the base, see if I can get a field manual translated for you. I'll be heading for the shuttle now," she finished.

The two corporals with her, who had been looking at her with some urgency, waited for her to turn off the viewscreen. When she did, one of them spoke.

"Major, we'll need to have you examined when we get back to the camp."

"Examined for what? They've already found a cancer and had it removed."

"You believe them?! You have only the word of these Nazis for that."

"You're being too paranoid. What are you going to have me examined for? Alien probes to detect Martian death rays?" asked the major.

The corporals laughed. One of them bent closer to her to explain. "The three of us, Dawkins and him," he nodded to the other corporal, "thought... you might have been..." how do I say this to my CO and keep it tongue in cheek? "...implanted, all right."

"What are you getting at?" asked Fulton. They were outside the building by now. "Spit it out, Mikolev."

The man spoke to the commander timidly. "Major... we thought that you might have been... sexually assaulted... while under treatment. Why do you think they put you under general anesthesia for shrapnel wounds in the leg? Security concerns? Who puts classified information in a hospital room, Major? Who knows what they did to you?"

Fulton's face went blank, expressionless. It would take some time for this to sink in for her. She was certainly pretty; it would not be unfathomable to believe that someone might want to take liberties with her.

"Well, why do you think the men were put under general? Nazis aren't too gay-friendly, do you think they were raped too? That's a military base, you wouldn't want to have a bunch of potentially hostile soldiers running around freely, would you?"

She decided to try to reduce their concerns further. "If someone wanted to take advantage of me, it would probably be the doctors who would give me anesthesia, not the field medic who wouldn't have time to do anything with me."

She nodded to the surrounding soldiers; they were getting close to the shuttle now. She certainly didn't want the Skgorrians hearing the belief that the Kahanistanian commander had been raped while under medical treatment. That could start another brawl with the Skgorrians, and possibly even armed conflict if the main base heard about it.

the 10 smiled under thier face masks and van helsing said my brothers let uslaunch an attack on thier comand structure

There were 180 soldiers in the base who were still in combat condition. If they hadn't heard the soldier being knocked out, they certainly heard the discussions and got concerned when the downed man didn't request relief as usual.

Within minutes of the scuffle, weapons were loaded, including the few remaining anti-tank rocket launchers in case of a Kh'rask attack. Some of the soldiers came out of their tents to see what the problem was.

the space marines stood in a line van helsing said my broters iget them to fight on your terms unarmed go for kills only he shouted dogs of Kahanistan

prove your worth face us in unarmed combat

"Fantastic Major, I'll see you down there," smiled Yuklig as he closed the connection. As he turned around, the entire bridge crew swung around and instantly busied themselves, calling out status reports to give the impression they had been working the whole time and had not been listening intently to his conversation.
"Enjoy the show?" inquired Yuklig in a challenging tone - none of the crew dared answer him. Without another word, he strode off the bridge and to the officer's personal hangar. It was full of the personal craft of the highest ranking officers, and whilst Yuklig was not a member of the Air Force, his status as a Special Action Division soldier merited a slot in the bay. Approaching the Senior Deckhand, the man responsible for operations in the hangar, he saluted and ordered that his fighter be made ready. He expected it would not take long, as the personal craft of each officer were usually kept in flight-ready status. Sure enough, he only had to wait two minutes before the Senior Deckhand confirmed the craft was ready. Yuklig had to scale a ladder up the side of the craft and then lower himself in through the hatch at the top. Strapping himself in, he began a pre-flight warm up.
Reactor running at full, laser charged...hmm won't need those...oh! Full complement of proton torpedoes, how delightful. Now, to be out of here Yuklig gently pushed the yoke forward and the TIE slid out of the hangar on its repulsorlifts, and down towards the planet. As flames began to shoot up around him, Yuklig checked the co-ordinates that he was heading on. He would land next to the shuttle within the next ten minutes.

Back in the facility, the door to Dawkins' cell swung open and two Army troopers appeared, both armed.
"You're coming with us, seems someone upstairs likes you," one of them ordered.

The Sergeant Major shook his head. "No, we aren't interested in fighting anyone. If you want to show us how you beat up those plant things, then go ahead. But we aren't going to just fight you guys. Now let us take our man and get him to a med tent."

---

Brig

Dawkins stirred from where he had been napping. "Someone upstairs? What's going on?" He got up and warily allowed the soldiers to escort him.

---

Shuttle

Major Fulton sat in the shuttle between the two corporals who had not been injured. It had been three minutes since the conversation with Yuklig. "We're going to wait here for Sergeant Dawkins. Storm-Major Yuklig will be joining us, too," she said.

Good, maybe I can cut his throat. One of the corporals smiled softly, turning his head away from the commander to avoid probing questions. I hate Nazis. The other corporal eyed her with concern. Is she nuts? "Major... why are you doing this? Why are you taking him to the base?"

"Kacelski, I have no ulterior motives, if that was what you were thinking. I simply think it's better if these people are exposed to our culture. Isn't that one of the missions of the Kahanistanian military, to help nations that are under oppressive regimes? He'll come in, see how we all get along, regardless of race, religion, ethnicity... and he'll hopefully question his own beliefs."

She took a breath and continued. "I have no intention of doing anything else. I was merely persuading him to release a soldier under my command. I don't have any hidden motives," she said. "I'd do the same for anyone under my command."

Fulton stared off into space, waiting for the Storm-Major and her detained comrade to arrive at the shuttle.

van hellsing nooded brother zane come here now watch carefully hellsing said as he entered his c.c. stance his left leg be hind his right his hands balled into fists brothe zane charged ath im van hellsing fliped over him and comes up behind his oppant
this is called the turus style of hold

"Very interesting," said the Sergeant Major. "Medic! Tend to our casualty and let these guys show us a few moves."

A medic came out of the tent and saw the beaten soldier on the ground. He picked the man up by his shoulders and dragged him toward a tent.

For now, the soldiers were interested in learning more close-quarters combat. When the injured man came to, there might still be trouble, though. In the meantime, some soldiers began to attempt the Taurus Hold on each other.

The two Army troopers led Dawkins through the checkpoints then to the exit of the guard post. One of the troopers withdrew a clear plastic sack with the sergeant's belongings and equipment and handed it to him.
"Interesting weapon," the trooper observed, then handed the sack to Dawkins with no further comment. He was then taken to the shuttle and left there, the two Army troopers went back into the guard station.

Yuklig brought his fighter down below the cloud level and opened a com channel.
"Fort Frank, this is Storm-Major Yuklig, open up."
"Urm...Storm-Major, this is Fort Frank. I need a password," the voice on the other end apologised. Sighing, Yuklig attempted to remember the code.
"7KX...P? I don't know dammit," he snapped, "just let me in or I'll have you transferred to the Penal Divisions." There was a short pause before the voice came back on.
"Cleared to land."
"Thankyou Fort Frank, over and out." Yuklig watched as the protective dome that covered the Fort opened at the top slid open, and he guided his fighter down onto the launch pad. He was tracked by automated cannons and missile launchers all the way, but Yuklig had faced far worse things and was not too bothered. Setting the Defender down fairly smoothly, he clambered out of the top and jumped down, bending his knees as he landed to ensure he didn't fall over. He checked the scabbard containing his sabre was securely fastened to his belt, and that his replacement pistol was also secure in its holster. Satisfied, he then strode over to the shuttle and walked around to the back where he saw the Major and several others sitting.
"Major Fulton, a pleasure as always," he beamed. Expecting a less than friendly welcome, he gave a wave instead of the traditional salute.

next move is aliitle more dangerous said van hellsing the shadow kick

its a killing move you run up to your enemy and kick themm in the neck of course its only efective in powere armour

The Sergeant Major shook his head. "We don't want to lose anyone here, so let's concentrate on surprise attacks, sneaking up on people, holds, putting people on the floor."

---

Dawkins looked through his bag, and to his surprise, nothing had been stolen from it. He followed his escorts to the shuttle, then walked in and sat in a corner, talking with one of the other soldiers about his ordeal.

---

Fulton nodded and cleared a spot for the Storm-Major to sit next to her. She did not want the other soldiers to harass him, or worse, harm him while he was in their camp. She handed back the empty blaster from her bag. "Thank you, this saved our necks when we were stranded."

most of the move in c.q.care kill moves exceot basic punches and kicks

Taking the offered seat, Yuklig smiled at the news that his blaster had been useful.
"Thought it might come in handy Major, I assume its empty." He took the blaster and checked the power cell - a low beep confirmed it was empty. "Pilot, let's go," he called, and the shuttle rumbled as the ramp closed and the engines roared to life. Soon the shuttle was on its way to the main camp.
"Major, if I may be so bold," asked Yuklig, "I was wondering if you could tell me how effective your weaponry was against the Kh'rasks?"

Fulton nodded. "Well, the Javelins, bigger rocket launchers... they took out anything they hit in one shot. We normally use them at home for fighting armored vehicles. The M-203's," she picked up her weapon and pointed to the attached 40mm grenade launchers, "were effective, if they hit the head, they went down in one shot, otherwise, they took two or three to the chest. The smaller barrel fires 5.56 millimeter rounds, they only had an effect if you scored a hit to a sensitive area like an eye or vital nerve. This..." she showed Yuklig her sidearm, "fires nine-millimeter rounds, the Kh'rasks literally laughed at it."

Meanwhile, in the camp, a badly injured sentry was being treated for a broken jaw. He would be sucking food through a straw for the next six weeks. He stirred and became conscious. "Where am I? What happened?" he slurred.

"One of those new arrivals beat the crap out of you. You're lucky to be alive. The other guys are learning CQC from them."

van hellsing glared and said let us launch a crusade against the monsters give us each a weapon and some ammo and i garrente thiy will fall to us

"No, we don't have enough weapons and ammo, we're low on it from the last monster attack."

---

The other soldiers joined in the conversation, more interested in talking about weapons and combat, and the "cute chick" that had landed in the pod near them, than in heckling the Storm-Major. While they didn't like him for the most part, as long as he was friendly with the commander they wouldn't make it known. The people on the base were a whole different kettle of fish, though.

In the meantime, they continued to discuss the battle. "Then this robot dude came in with some energy cannon and a hella big sword," said Dawkins. "We all got behind him when the Kh'rask focused on him and he killed like hundreds of them. We'd have been toast if he didn't show."

"Most interesting, an underslung explosive launcher," Yuklig mused, "we don't really have those anymore, I know we used to back before the Exodus. We only have hand-thrown grenades and dedicated anti-armour weapons similar to your Javelins." His head jerked around at the mention of the 'robot dude'
"The person you are talking about is Storm-General Beckenbauer, our greatest warrior and general," he said with pride, "you were truly honoured to fight by his side. He is a truly ancient man, kept alive through a combination of sheer will and science. Sadly he is not entirely...intact in the head," Yuklig spoke with sadness, his head falling and his face taking on a glum expression.
"Sir, we're landing now," called the pilot.
"Fantastic pilot," Yuklig immediatly brightened up. "I look forward to seeing your camp," he told Fulton, the excitement evident in his eyes. The shuttle set down softly and the ramp was lowered, exposing the shuttle's interior to the light of day.
"After you Major," Yuklig offered.

the maribes said c.q.c stances people

Fulton stepped off the ramp to the ground. The Kahanistanian camp was not much to look at, several dozen tents surrounding a huge well the soldiers had dug, with a tent next to the well over a latrine pit that served as the camp outhouse. A large tent with a red and white striped flag flying over it was next to the latrine tent, serving as the medical tent.

Soldiers in the camp were in formation, observing the Sephrion troops showing them martial arts skills. Others were sparring with each other, practicing some of the moves they'd learned. There were, as always, sentries posted to watch for the dangerous creatures that lived on the surface.

Fulton turned back to Yuklig. "I'll be in the medical tent for a while, I should be back out in a few minutes."

A soldier behind her asked her a question. "Major, permission to organise a search party for the bodies of the KIA's at the drop site?"

"Granted. Put together a team from some of the fresh troops here, with one or two of you guys as guides." She headed for the medical tent.

Following Fulton out of the shuttle, Yuklig nodded when she informed him that she was needed elsewhere.
"I shall wait here," he informed her, "that way I won't get lost." He was amased at how similar the Kahanistan camp looked to the Skgorrian field camp.
First aid tent there, what's that one...well judging by how everyone is adjusting their trousers as they come out, it's either a brothel or the latrines. Most likely the latrines, they look a disciplined lot. Sentries around the camp, hmm I wonder what the commotion is...WHAT! Yuklig had caught sight of the Sephiron prisoners, he had seen a report on them whilst he was in the Golan-II.
"Major!" he called, "I assume you remember the terms under which you were brought here, I hope that these prisoners have been given no supplies or aid."

van hellsing sepratedf frrom his team mate he said keep drilling them he walked over to his jallier and spat you and me unarmed combat

"Why should I, peon?" Yuklig snarled, standing still and facing up to the larger Space Marine. "You're here as a prisoner, so start acting like one."

i could break you like a twig fool he snaped and punched him

"How dare y" Yuklig's reply was cut short by the Space Marine's attack. He flew backwards and fell to the ground, a crumpled mess.

The shuttle pilot had been watching the proceedings from within the shuttle, and quickly took out his comlink.
"Emergency situation!" He screamed, "Sephritoh Marines are on the rampage!" He dropped the comlink and withdrew his service blaster, sure that the Space Marines would attack the, but he didn't open fire.

Golan-II Station 'Gates of Berlin'

The emergency call was process quickly - the on-duty Kriegsmarine company raced to their pods and screamed down to the surface. Senior commanders tried in vain to contact the Major, whilst a rather-quick thinking Lieutenant who had just returned from leave broadcasted on the Kahanistani frequency.
"What's going on down there? Make it snappy, the Fleet's ready to mount a strike." Just as he said this, he overrheard another officer announcing the launch of another series of pods.

In this other set of pods, a hundred Ubersoldaten screamed towards the planet's surface. They would enjoy the fight, but lacked their leader. As one, they were transmitting to Storm-General Beckenbauer across their Neural Network

Surface

He sat in silence, enjoying the still until a voice clamoured
We need you
But here I am at peace, Beckenbauer cried, standing atop a hill and watching the life flow around him.
Ours is to serve, not to question
I have served! I have served for millenia! his roars were disturbing the creatures, and several D'rsaai scuttled away.
Then continue to serve, fight by our side. You cannot deny it, war is your blood
To this, Beckenbauer had no reply. He sat there, not saying anything.
Through Fields Of Blood and Pain, Skgorria Marches On!
At this, Beckenbauer stood:
Then we march on, he said in a resigned way, and began to sprint back to the Kahanistani camp.

Bridge, ASV Victory:

"Marines on the rampage?" muttered the communications officer, as she hailed the Captain-General.
"Yes, Commander?"
"Sir, it looks like there's serious trouble down there," she said, gesturing to the image of the penal colony, "and the Skgorrians might not be able to handle it."
"Hm. Unlikely, but still... open a channel to the Berlin and the Fort."
"At once, sir."

Within moments, the Captain-General was speaking to the commanders of the Golan-II and the Governor-General.

"This is the ASV Victory letting you know that you have big brother watching you in case you need a Scouring," he grinned, "which I hope you don't. I have utmost faith in your Kreigsmarine, after all."

Major Fulton was in no position to answer the query; she had not been to the camp. However, Lt. Moses Caldwell, the de facto commander of the camp, replied.

"No, they're just showing some stuff. Guess they're bored." It was certainly no stretch to assume that the prisoners would be bored, given that they didn't seem to be afraid of the monstrous beasts that lived on the surface.

---

Caldwell ordered a medic to retrieve Yuklig and take him to the medical tent. While he would have liked to just watch the Sephrions beat the crap out of him, he had to protect the visitors regardless of who they may be, just the same as when he was on duty in the Palace.

The Lieutenant answered a hail from his radio. "One of the prisoners down here attacked the Storm-Major. We have it under control. He's being taken to the medical tent. Looks like a concussion, but we won't know until we've got him in there."

he glared at the medic and said you dare interupt my sport of the many centys i have served the imperium in peace or war i have never met one as brave as you to deny van hellsing his sport you dare much liitlee medic

"I'm just following orders. We're going to take this man to the med tent and get him to safety."

The medic proceeded to check for bleeding and three soldiers picked Yuklig up, keeping his neck stable in case it was broken, and proceeded to carry him to the medical tent.

Meanwhile, the camp doctor was tending to Major Fulton.

"Well, Major..." the doctor said, smearing the contents of a cotton swab onto a slide, "we won't be able to get any results from this until we get back to Kahanistan. I'll just put this in the refrigeration unit until we get there. Hopefully CID can analyse it better than we can here."

The slides had originally been brought in case someone decided on cataloguing the plant and animal life for the nascent Space Division of the Republic Guard and the civilian Ministry of Science, both of which had made requests for information on extraterrestrial life forms. The doctor continued berating the lack of proper sexual assault testing equipment.

"Well, we at least have morning-after pills, Major. People here do, of course, have sex, and sometimes the condom breaks..." He gave the young woman a few pills labeled PEP.

"Pep pills?" asked Fulton.

"Post-exposure prophylaxis. I don't know if you got here in time, but it can't hurt. Should keep you from getting an STD if you really were assaulted in there. You might also want emergency contraception." He gave her another pill.

"Water, please," she said.

The doctor gave her a plastic water bottle, and she took the pills. The doctor wrote out a slip of instructions for medical treatments she would have to follow up on when she got back to Kahanistan.

"Now, these pills will have some side effects, so you might want to stay here overnight. Oh, looks like we have another customer," he said, seeing the medic and soldiers carrying the Storm-Major. "It'll be a bit crowded in here." He proceeded to clear some space for the Storm-Major to be treated.

van helsing growled something under his breath bloody medics

Those in the camp would be able to see and hear twenty pods roaring towards the surface, and also see them impact roughly two kilometres away from the outskirts of the camp. The landing threw up a huge ammount of dust and dirt, and annihilated a small herd of Pollovi who had the misfortune to be underneath the chosen spot for an Ubersoldaten pod to land.

As the dust settled, the Kahanistanis would be able to see a large number of Kriegsmarine and Ubersoldaten forming in an all-round defence, the larger Ubersoldaten towering over the Kriegsmarine by a good two metres. The process was extremely quick and had been done many times, both in peace and war.

Yuklig himself was completely unconscious, but his comlink began to beep before a voice came over it.
"Major Yuklig, status?"

One of the medics picked up the comlink and fumbled with it, accidentally sending a blast of ear-piercing static through before managing to reply.

"We're taking him to the medical tent. He's out cold, but he should be fine. He's breathing and has a stable heartbeat."

They took him into the tent and laid him next to the Major. She was still recuperating from the medications they had given her. The medics then put a cold pack on Yuklig's head and administered basic first aid for head injuries. From what they could see, his injuries appeared minor, but they would observe him until he recovered or the Ubersoldaten took him.

Outside, the sentries loaded their remaining Javelins and readied them, but did not open fire. They would wait to see what the Skgorrians did before making any hostile moves; there was no sense getting the entire camp killed if their intentions were not hostile.

The Kriegsmarine Captain winced as the static blasted his ears, but was relieved to hear that the Storm-Major was stable.
"Good news everyone, the Storm-Major is okay," he called out. The Kriegsmarine cheered, and the Ubersoldaten attempted to emulate the noise, but it came out as a strange ululating drone.
"Nice try anyway," the Captain sympathised as he patted the nearest Ubersoldaten on the leg.
"Captain," called out one of the Kriegsmarine, "it's the Storm-General!" The instantly recognisable Storm-General Beckenbauer has crested a hill and was charging towards the Skgorrian troops.
Crap! the Captain cursed, why'd I have to be senior on this run?
"Welcome, Storm-General!" he saluted as the Storm-General arrived at the ring of defence.
Indeed, now who do we march against? Beckenbauer's voice made all of the normally stoic Kriegsmarine shake in their boots, they really didn't want to be here right now, not when the Storm-General might go off again.
"Well sir," began the Captain, "it seems that one of the Sephrioth troopers attacked Storm-Major Yuklig."
WHAT? The leviathan bellowed, I will settle this, be ready At this, Beckenbauer began striding towards the Kahanistani camp and bellowed
Who dares strike a son of Skgorria?

van helsing stormed over to him i dare you xenos scum

you? YOU? spat Storm-General Beckenbauer. Pathetic little man-dog, you aren't fit to kiss the rear end of any Skgorrian! If you want a real fight, rather than picking on unaugmented humans, then fight ME! For I am Storm-General Beckenbauer, Destroyer of Eurasia, Subjugator of The Eastern Rim. I was there at the beginning of Skgorria and I shall be there at the end! SIEG HEIL! He screamed, to which all the other Skgorrians yelled and started doing their own salutes.

In the med tent, Yuklig's arm immediatly raised itself to the salute out of pure reflex. This was made all the more remarkable by the fact he appeared to be unconscious....

i fear you not for i defeated 6000 blood thristers in single combat you are a mere ant to me blood thirsters are chaos daemons you runt


i am the empeors fist his sword and his shield in total

lets have at then

6,000? Pah, come on man, at least have the guts to make a believable taunt! How's this for size - "your mother was a hampster and your father smelt of elderberries?" At this, the entire Skgorrian contingent laughed. Monty Python was a revered classic piece of ancient cinematography, even if it was somewhat unpure. They were also amased at how coherent the Storm-General was being, normally he was either monosyllabic or pure rage.

Come on puny jibber-jabber, stop hiding behind the withered corpse of your Emperor and face me. At this, Beckenabuer revved his chainsabre.

Yuklig's arm was still up.

"Inform the Fleet," began the Captain-General, "we have a targeting solution for all port guns."
"To Fleet," said the Communications officer, "Targeting Solution follows: Seven, Delta, Seven, Nine, One, Theta. Targeting Solution for all port guns, all Fleet vessels."

Ponderously, the 260km long behemoth of the Victory swung to bring its 15,000 port weapons to bear on the scene of Beckenbauer's alcertation...