NationStates Jolt Archive

The Dirge Class Battleship's drifting form blotted out the most things entirely. The battledamaged hull was ripped in some places, glowing areas blinking faintly. The formidable main guns were broken apart, the once mighty weapon, in shambles.

The Twilight Cruiser slowly came up to the huge Capital Ship of the Fleet Pact. A lance of energy connecting with the hulk. A tube shot forward and connected, allowing entrance into the craft.

Several Marines flew out, a few feet from the ground. One of the armoured figures, went ahead to a large console, at the end of the corridor. After a few minutes, the Marines landed on the ground, gravity restored.

"Get moveing. We need to find the archive, and then set the ship to self destruct before hostiles enter the sector. Were not exactly welcome here boys, so get a move on already!" Raiseing his voice the Marine in even more imposeing Combat Armour boomed to his force. As the squads stormed down the corridors, splitting up as they got farther in, more Marines came out of the Airlock-like tube. The Marine checked the console one more time.

Life Support Restored.

The lead Marine frowned. "What happened here?"

~~~~~

The Lifeform ducked into the shadows as more 'pink ones' came running past. The creature thought somewhat intelligently Food...still alive. Pink Fleshy things, cause harm. Only death, must kill fleshy pink things.

The creature stalked out of the shadows, tail beared in front of it. The lifeform struck out at a lagging marine, grabbing hold of the pink one's throat, and killing the fleshy thing before it could cry out. The lifeform dragged the pink thing into the shadows once more. The armour face plate crumbled apart as the creature bit into the pink thing. Devourering the fleshy thing, the creature thought singlemindedly The brood shall feast. And then, this hive shall be ours!


The loss of the Armageddon, a Dirge Class Battleship in the Outer Sectors has been reopened for investigations. The last report from the ship on its routine patrol was chaos, and scrambled transmissions. The information on the ship is considered priceless, as the Fleet Pact scrambles to send more ships to bolster the Outer Sectors, trailing ships have been sent ahead to perhaps find out where the vessel might drift. In other news, Pact member Talbane... ~ Holonet news segment of the Alliance of The United Fleets, or the Fleet Pact.


Rules of Engagement:

(Okay standard stuff people. No blowing up the ship yourself. It'll happen, but the ships big. REALLY BIG. And a heap of a mess at that. So lets try to 'explore it' if you will.

Next, no powerplaying. No battlefleets with huge capital ships, or large forces. You could say this is like a mini campaign, but its more like a really long battle. Other wise, I'd suggest one ship, and plenty of cannon fodder, becuase theres tons of nastys lurking in the shadows. So make sure to bring that Heat/Night vision visor of yours.

Thridly, have fun, and lets see if one capital ship really is worth raiseing hell over, and what REALLY happened to the Armageddon, and what ever really is so important about it.)

The Scourge, a newly commissioned Plague-Class battleship, found a sudden threat on its maiden voyage. A massive hulk, dwarfing the Imglotian warship, drifted silently through space.

The primary problem was the location. The ship's CO, one Captain Minta Krayne, checked her command station's Tacmap. According to it, they were barely ten AUs from Tigeria... and here was a massive ship, possibly prepared to assault the Immortal Lands. She wondered what to do. The reason she was testing this warship, rather than leading one of the fleets, was because she had never been certified for combat operations.

Knowing what the right thing was to do, Krayne prepared to activate the Hantog drive, readying the ship to rip a hole in the fabric of the universe and enter the intermediate space, sometimes known as Slipspace.

Minta paused when she noted that there were, in fact, two ships - the massive ship, and a smaller warship connected to it by a small tube - undoubtedly a transfer device of some sort. It was then that she realized that the behemoth was covered with scars of battle, some more recent.

Now... this was a conundrum. Perhaps that massive ship was a derelict, ready for the raiding? If she came back to the Immortal Lands with more tech... this very well might be her key to fleet command.

Snapping her fingers, she got the attention of the Logistics Officer, Frank Hullum.

"Lieutenant, I want you to prepare an exploration team of infantry in Gladiator suits." The Gladiator powered armor should make even an unsealed, unsafe derelict into a secure little cave, full of unexpected surprises.

Nodding to Hullum's unasked question, she confirmed her order. A small shuttle, containing 10 armored infantry wielding Negator beam rifles, was soon on its ways to enter the ship through one of the holes in its hull.

The Inter-Union had regular patrols out scouting the universe, discovering new worlds to colonize, new nations to scout out for conversion, and new resources to exploit for their ever increasing empire. All of these patrols were simple one or two ship jaunts that went in a direction picked by the computer, which selected the next vector unexplored. Whenever the computer got an odd reading, the Union ships would go in to investigate, and the situation with the Armageddon was no different.

As the Armageddon was visited by its rightful owners and a newcomer, a small Unity-class frigate (http://i91.photobucket.com/albums/k308/Nirokasa/300px-H-TB.jpg) came out of a massive wormhole in space, shooting out of Hyperspace to visit the location of the strange signals. The Psi-Knight of the ship, Aeth'ki, sat in the command chair, his mind one with the ship and its inhabitants through the Psi-Link.

"Status report?

"Signal confirmed coming from a large battleship class ship. Sensors read heavy damage across the ship. Sensors reading some kind of strange chemical on throughout the ship. Hull segments drifting about the ship and power is fluctuating throughout the ship. Sensors also reading two ships nearby. One is docked with the ship, while the other has maintained its distance. We assume the shuttle docked with the wreck is affiliated with it. Orders?"

"Proceed to gather four squads of Subjugators and two squads of Persecutors and have them be sent to the wreck with two fully loaded Transfer-class dropships. I don't know what is in there, but if it did this much to the ship, we will need to be careful. We are still far too close to home, we can't risk whatever did this coming to attack Aeth'ka Prime."

"Understood. Awakening units now."

The Inter-Union did not utilize their own people as warriors; they were not physically suited to such without power armor and they did not proliferate enough for them to survive wars. As such, they utilized advanced robots of incredible power to be their soldiers. Racks of Subjugators (http://i91.photobucket.com/albums/k308/Nirokasa/viper.jpg), and Persecutors (http://i91.photobucket.com/albums/k308/Nirokasa/robot_infantry1.jpg) were standing silently in the hallways of the frigate, Destiny's Wrath. A silent code to awaken was sent and several sets of blue lights came on, as the machines came online. Tubes and wires disconnected from the robots as they exited the racks and went into the armories. They swiftly armed themselves, a pre-programmed layout of the squads weaponry moving them to choose a balance of rifles, shotguns, heavy weapons and rocket launchers. The Persecutors selected mostly heavy weapons and made sure their beam weapon on their right arm still worked. Once that was done, they marched down to the hangar, where the Transfer-class dropships (http://i91.photobucket.com/albums/k308/Nirokasa/Beachhead_secured_by_sketchboook.jpg) were located.

Two were already filled with packages of extra weaponry, repair equipment and computer infiltration tools. They were here to find out what happened and what kind of foe had done this. So they may be forced to repair sections of the ship to get into the computers. The squads loaded onto the dropships, thirty-four soldiers in all, and they quickly exited the hangar, blasting out to head towards the ship.

Aeth'ki, meanwhile, kept the Destiny's shields and weapons powered up and had the interceptor and bombers keyed for activation with the press of a single button. He wasn't sure how the two other factions here would react to their presence, and he wasn't going to bother asking them why they were here or any such thing like that. They were all here for the same reason, and if they tried to stop him, he'd respond accordingly.

He closed his eyes and sighed. For the One, I shalt not fear...."

The two dropships entered the hangar bays of the ship and disgorged their contents. One squad of Persecutors and Subjugators would stay behind, to make the two dropships their base camp of sorts, while the others moved into the hallways to begin their search. Guns were up, sensors at maximum. The robots moved in excellent formation, all being controlled by the Psi-Knight and his experience in combat showed. They began to head for the nearest computer center available, with the units carrying the sensitive repair and computer equipment remaining in the middle, protected by the units around them.

A massive battle raged around as a transport ship and its escort, a badly damaged cruiser, attempted to flee from the site. A few hundred ships were engaged in heavy inter-space combat, mostly unshielded boarding action, but a few long-range shielded snipers picking off smaller ships.

Captain Curtis Nara, a young, black haired man with serious features and a lithe, strong body, of the transport ship Russel, sat back in his chair at the helm of the ship and waited as the ship and its escort jumped to Warpspace. As soon as they did, he looked to his officers on the bridge. "I want damage reports, casualty reports, inventories, nearby battlesites for scrapping, nearby friendly or neutral ships. Anything and everything, people. Let's move it!"

A few seconds after he finished, the COM screen blinked. Curtis tapped a few buttons and inputted passwords decrypting the COM channel. An older man with hair graying at the the temples and a bandage on his face, with his arm wrapped in a sling appeared on the screen. It was Commander Quentin Halet of the cruiser Strong Force, the escort of the Russel. Curtis sighed as he saw the bridge of the Strong Force in a disarray. Quentin nodded. "Yes, I know sir, it's pretty bad. We lost sensors and weapons, and shields are failing. Do you have any wreckage sites where we could repair?"

Curtis looked past the screen. "Arliss!" He called out. "Wreckage sites?" The young women turned back toward Curtis. "Just one sir. It's a large derelict. There are several ships near it. One of the Great Lord Tiger's. We have an embassy there, they should be friendly. Two unknowns." Curtis sighed and looked back at Quentin. "Did you get that?" He aske. Quentin nodded. "Got it sir. I don't like it, but there is a friendly there. It's probably our best option."

Curtis leaned forward in his chair and rubbed his temples. "I agree. Let's get there." Quentin nodded and the screen went blank. Curtis then turned to the NAV officer. "Welsey, how long till we get there?" Welsey tapped in a few commands. "Approximately one hour sir." Curtis sighed and leaned back in his chair again. "Alright."

For the next thirty minutes, reports flooded in. Curtis rubbed his eyes and began to read them again. 213 Dead, 287 wounded. 500 alive and well. 300 of my own crew alive, 20 casualties. Thank god these are elite units. Casualties might have been even higher otherwise. Recovered thrity units worth of supplies and weapons. A good haul. The Russel is in good shape, but the Strong Force isn't doing so hot. Joyful. Better get weapons online first. Never know what might happen, even with friendlies.

Curtis shut the console down and put on a contact with his battalion commanders. Five men showed on the screen, three wearing Deckna-IV battlesuits, one in sitting next to a pile of power-armor, swiftly repairing it and handing it back to soldiers, and one sitting on a hospital bed, immobilized. Curtis first looked at the technician. "Marcus, I want you to get three squads together. Comps, Secs, and Slaves, one of each. Get your best. Transfer everyone else but 30 techs to the Strong Force, have them start emergency repairs."

He turned to the rest. "I want each of you to get your squads together, locked and loaded, ready for combat. GO!"

It was a few minutes before the two ships arrived. The Russel sent out a broad-band message.

This is Captain Curtis Nara of the Black Sword Ship Russel. We're here to salvage the big ship and repair our escort. Can anyone give us some specs on that ship?

Private John Iriden ran down the corridor. The lights in most of the ship were down, forceing the Marines to switch to the night vision in their Combat Visor.

The Marine turned his head as he ran down the corridor, all but battering into walls as he tried to make his escape. A pack of Creatures he thought as he realised he did not know what they really were swarmed after him, claws clicking on the floor with long tails sweeping after them, armed with a sharp looking spike on the end of it.

Iridan shot out with his weapon. The plasma rounds ripped into the lead alien, the monster toppleing over, its comrades leaveing it behind to die. They screeched, teeth chattering as they leaped closer and closer. John, panting dived past the door way, slaming his armoured hand onto the console outside the door. The door slammed shut.

Clawed hands scratched the door, larger dents being made by the tails of the aliens. The red and brown things had been chaseing him for a while now. He tried his Comm system again. "This is C5N211, Private John Iriden, Squad Seven. I Repeat..." But all he got back was static, or garbled transmissions."

Iriden scanned the room, looking around for an escape. Looking past the tables stacked with datapads and such, he was surprised to find him self in a libarium. Looking past the pillars of faint blue light which were Data Banks, he sat down in front of a large console, the energy restoreing itself from the repairs comenced in the power serviceing.

"What happened here?" More scratching from the door. "Shit."

~~~~~

Captain Strider marched past the squads of techies that gathered around service conduits, or consoles, talking about things he could barely understand. Finally stopping in front of a nervous looking Private, the Captain grunted and pointed. "Why isn't this door open?"

"Well you see sir...theres some signals past there. Were detecting movement and...well. We didn't think anyone here was left alive." The Private seemed to shrink under the Captains hard gaze. "So? Why would this stop you from opening the door?"

The Private stuttered and stuggled to replie. "We think theres hostiles beyond." The Captain quickly barked out the order, fed up with the Marine.

"Hack that door." A techie wordlessly pushed past the squad of Marines who were reluctant to go past the door. The techie stood at the console for a few moments, entering codes and muttering things under his breath.

Finally the door was open. There was only darkness beyond. The squad entered the corridor fanning out, slowly moveing along. "Update your HUD. Switch to Night Vision. No mistakes this time people." The Marines went deeper along the dark hall way. Captain finally got his Combat Visor Into Night Vision mode, which was around the time the other Marines froze.

On the walls and on the floor was a horde of creatures. They were ripping into corpses, some none to fresh, or clinging to walls. Blood itself was spread out with bits and peices of flesh.

The Captain was the first to recover. "Open fire!" His Plasma Rifle fired a torrent of shells, the blue projectiles flung in the direction of the aliens. The Mariens followed suit. The aliens reacted quickly, swarming along, here and there one ripped apart in a hail of fire.

As they got closer the Marines started to back up slowly. "Theres to many!" "They wont die!" "I shot one in the head! Its still coming!" "They wont die?!" The rookie marines all went to hell. They scrambled away, only to be thrown off his feet and to the ground and torn apart by the swarm.

The Captains futile effort to maintain control was shattered as the tail flew past his gun, the spiked end flying into his face plate. The last thing he saw was shattered and jagged flesh, torn away from his face.

~~~~~

"Commander Alexander, We have detected contacts. All unknown. One has ducked in and landed inside one of the Fighter Bays. The others are keeping distance."

"Hail them, includeing the one that landed."

The same message was given on obvious channels.

This is the Aeon, Assault Cruiser of the Alliance. Fleet Pact outter territory has been comprimised. Respond with your intent and purposes. This ship is a Derelict Vessel of the Pact Rhine. Intrusion into Fleet Pact property could be considered hostile. Please respond.

"This could be bad. How close are the men to the Archive and Reactor?"

"There have been uncomfirmed reports of hostiles in the vessels central vaults. Were not sure whats going on yet, but we havn't gotten close enough to the Archive to download its information. The reactor teams and squads are close, but until we get the information, and seal off most of the vaults, we can't self destruct."

"Keep the teams held down when they get there. If those vessels are hostile, I want a trump card. As for the Archive team, push on with the siege drones. If there are hostiles in there, some heavy support should tip the balance."

Aboard the Scourge

Captain Krayne felt sick to her stomach. She should have just left. Now, a squad of Gladiators was on-board a derelict, and she had no way to get away. She offhandedly made an attempt at comms with the soldiers, and was met with static. She decided that it was time to swallow her pride and contact Imglot Command on Tigeria.

She punched in the comms code and waited for the Slipspace Burst Transmission to initiate. What she didn't expect was a red light to ignite on the console.

"What is this?" she asked no one in particular angrily. The ship's AI answered in a bored and monotonic voice.

"Ma'am, the system indicates a Slipspace anomaly; all SS Operations are, as such, shut down, including SBTs. Current scans indicate that the derelict is responsible for the interference."

Bad, bad, bad. Now, not only could she call for reinforcements, but her ship was stuck there. Swallowing, she tapped the headset in her ear, and quietly intoned, "Contact Response." The conventional communications system shifted to broadcast at a frequency answering that of the hostile's message. Taking a breath, she began her dictation:

"To the Pact Rhine. My name is Captain Minta Krayne. I am afraid there has been a bit of a misunderstanding. Owing to the presence of multiple ships of different design around a battle-scarred derelict, I assume this was a free raid. However, I realize now that it is not. Regardless of the situation, I must inform you that this is territory of the Immortal Lands of the Great Lord Tiger - this position is hardly 10 AUs away from our planet of Tigeria. It is yourselves who intrude upon our space, and threatening and attacking our persons or ship will amount to the declaration of war on Imglot.

"Our soldiers, even now, are located on the derelict in question. Attempts to contact them have failed. While we do not wish for you to reveal state secrets, we must ask: what might be causing communications failure with our men?"

*^^**^^**^^**^^**^^**^^**^^**^^**^^**^^**^^**^^*

Aboard the Armageddon

Sergeant Brian Guter led the 9 other Gladiators (http://img262.imageshack.us/my.php?image=armorhd2.jpg) down a corridor of the ship. The lights were, oddly, functional, but the viewports for their helmets still glowed with a bright green light. Their combined footsteps, in the silence of the empty ship, were a cacophony, echoing off the empty walls. Guter couldn't help but think that he heard screams and other, less natural sounds...

"Sir?"

Guter jumped at the inquiring voice of Private Uran. This place was getting on his nerves. "Shit! Dammit, Private, what is it?" Luckily, more anger than anxiety entered his voice.

"I simply wish to know exactly what we seek, is all," the soldier asked cautiously. The squad all knew that an angry Guter was a deadly Guter. "We've been wandering this place for a good half-hour, and we've found nothing of consequence."

"Have we explored the whole ship, Private?" Guter spat back.

"Sir, no sir..." Uran's voice drifted off, and Guter turned to look at him. The private was watching something in the shadows.

"What is it, kid?" Guter asked impatiently. Getting these buffoons to answer promptly was-

"I... sir... I thought I heard someone yelling or screaming..."

Despite himself, a chill ran down the NCO's spine. Could they both be imagining it? Dammit, yes!, he yelled at himself angrily. There are no ghosts in this Great Lord-damned ship! The sound of scratching suddenly pulled his attention away from his thoughts.

While the powered armor provided little in the way of personality, Guter had gotten to the point where recognizing one soldier from another was simply a matter of looking at them, even without the IFF system. Private Uran, always looking around; Private Bungh, striding about with a purposeful air; Corporal Quanti, who exuded an air of confidence. All of them had personas that extended beyond the suit.

The Gladiators found themselves at a corner. They formed into a wedge shape, Negator DEWs (http://img530.imageshack.us/my.php?image=ticlebmriflefl0.jpg) at the ready. Guter held up his fist, thumb and ring fingers tucked in; Bungh and Uran stepped towards the corner, arranging themselves on the wall, while the rest of the team maintained form. Guter held his hand for a second more, before tucking in his index finger.

The two privates slipped around the corner, and the tell-tale buzz of the Negator spoke of them encountering hostiles. Guter took the corner in his own turn, and felt his jaw drop. A dozen or so... somethings... that were most-assuredly not friendly snarled and hissed, rushing towards the Gladiators. A detached part of him noted the scratches in the door at the end of the hall. Even his subconscious was absorbed into the melee, though.

That was what it degenerated into. The rifles seemed to have no effect on the beings' hides; instead, they were using the power of the suits to rip the aliens to shreds almost literally with their bare hands. Unfortunately, that wasn't quite the safest way; the two PFCs had gashes in their armor from the sharp, spiked tails, and from the copious bleeding issuing from the holes, they weren't going to survive much longer.

As soon as it started, it was over; the beings simply... disappeared. The two First Classes were dead, as expected; two privates and a corporal lay among the dead, one of the privates decapitated. Half of the Gladiators dead... in a single engagement. They needed to move, and move quickly.

Guter strode to the door and knocked on it with an armored fist. Satisfied, he took a deep breath and shifted all of his suit's power into his legs for a massive kick. The door was shifted off of its hinges, and a blue light issued from the cracks. However, it stood still, and he prepared another assault.

Aethi'ki was so focused on watching his troops move through the derelict, it took him a couple of milliseconds to realize that he had a message incoming. With a slight flicker of annoyance, he shifted processing power to see whom it was. Upon seeing it was the proclaimed owners of the derelict, he quickly put together a proper response and sent it, while going back to focusing on his soldiers.

Aeon, this is Psi-Knight Aeth'Ki of the Inter-Union frigate, Destiny's Wrath. We responded to strange signals and came upon the relic. Upon seeing no ships identifiable with the derelict, we proceeded to investigate the ship. We did not know this was your ship. Our intentions are similar to yours; investigate the ship and find out what-"

There was a pause then the message came on again.

"It would appear we found part of the reason for the ships condition. Strange, xenomorph like creatures are wandering the halls. Sensor analysis leads me to conclude they killed the crew. And from the sounds I am getting from the soldiers, you have found them too. I suggest we work together to secure as much of the ship as we can and to get to the computers to find out what happened. My forces are converging on one of your computer areas we speak."

******************

Blue blasts of plasma filled the air as the Subjugators and the Persecutors laid down a complex web of fire that wiped out the creatures charging them. They had been moving down the hall, keeping alert and watching all entryway, when the creatures had poured out of every nook and cranny, overwhelming the first Subjugators whom whirled around to engage them. As they were ripped apart, the rest assumed battle formation and proceeded to fill the air with plasma fire. Now, with the last of them dead or fleeing, they gave a good look around before continuing on. They soon came to a door, and sensors indicated an empty computer area inside. One of the soldiers carrying the infiltration came up to the display and inserted a couple wires into the device, then proceeded to start typing. Data scrawled down the screen of his little data pad as he typed until it stopped and glowed green. The display beeped and the door opened, Several Subjugators swept in, checking all points. When it was seen to be clear, the rest piled in, bringing in the equipment. Aeth'ki immediately had them set to work, plugging in computer infiltration equipment and having squads repair anything that needed to be repaired. Soon enough, the infiltration programs were away, seeking the files that held the details of what had happened here.

OOC: Up to you, United, on what they find.

[OOC] You do realize that my guys cleared the door that United Fleet's soldier went in, right? Notice the hints- scratches in the door, blue light from the opening, etc. Basically, you just refought our battle...

It wasn't that clear but I will edit in something in, I removed the segment.

[OOC]Sorry 'bout the confusion. I wanted to make it subtle, ya know?

We are hungry.

One thought, one mind. One mind, but many creatures. That is Our way.

The pink creatures are strange and vicious. There is not much edible meat on them. But once their stinging metal arms are severed, they are helpless.

We can see four of Ours now. The Four are in an outer circle of the hive. Danger is all around the Four, but We have persevered despite violent attacks of the fleshy ones. The Four are young ones; the Four are especially hungry because the Four must grow.

When We next catch the creatures, We must first take off their arms, the arms that singe Us with fire. Then We can penetrate their outer shells and consume the meat below.

The Four have come across something. It is metal and looks like a small hive. There is a pink creature near it, and the Four remove its stinging arm before they feast. But the deathbringers are all around. We must process the revelation of this metal thing. It was not on the hive before the vicious beasts invaded.

The Four will bring the metal thing to Us.

The creatures are entering the hive. For the safety of the brood, We must find a way to stop them. We must learn to protect Our hive, especially on the outer circles, from which all of the beasts issue.

We will find a way.

OOC: Well, someone had to. Can delete if you like.

OOC: Finished the edit.

John spun around, all but leaping out of the chair, Plasma Carbine stuck out in front of him. The Marine, surprised to find a group of soldiers in the door way, door in question kicked in with great force, rather then the creatures he had engaged.

A clear but metallic voice issued from his voice synth. "Who are you?" John still had his weapon pointed in their direction.

(I need to go, so not to many posts. I want to answer a whole bunch of stuff thats been posted. I'll be back in a few hours.)

"The same question could be asked of you," Guter said through his mask's voice modulator, unmodified. "But I can tell you that my name's Sergeant Guter of the Imglot Navy. Now, you mind lowering that weapon, mate? We don't take too kindly to being attacked twice within a minute."

His weapon was lowered, the adudible click and raiseing tone leaveing the question 'was it really disarmed?' hanging in the air.

"I am a Marine of of the Alliance of The United Fleets, otherwise known as the Fleet Pact of Allied Worlds. This ship is under investigation, and quarter of the Pact Rhine. As such, this ship is owned by allied forces in this sector." The Marine rang out the flat and level reply. The metallic voice making it sound even calmer, even though John really was near to pissing his pants.

The Marine stood at his full height of 6'2. Past the face plate which buzzed with blue lights of passing data and flashing panels of holographic sensors, his grey eyes scanned the group of new comers.

"Your...not in my standard archive." The Marine said. His Combat Visor buzzed as it scanned the soldiers before him. "What are you doing on a Rhine Battleship?"

~~~~

Psi-Knight Aeth'Ki, this is a outter sector. As far as we are concerned, we are in hollow ground as long as we are out of major trade lanes. As for your being here, you would be correct. This is our ship. And though it was our loss of it being nearly destroyed, it is out responsibility. If you think that it was our doing of you contact being lost with your people...then that would be wrong. For one thing, sending your forces inside in the first place could be considered a act of war on the Pact Rhine. This...is not the only Battleship in the sector. The loss of one such is shocking, and we are currently searching for a cause, that you may have found. If its true that the engagements that are happening really are against aliens known as Alphair34563 or Xenomorphs or what we suspect to be a strain from a...we can not give you the information directly off the files. We ask that you stay off the ships archives. The weapon systems and shield consistance would not be compadible with your ships with out the locks or the correct power source. It would be more likely to destroy the vessel you tried to use it on. But there is information that is of great importance to the Allaince. We ask that you try to pull you men out as soon as possible while we attempt to recover our Archive onboard the derelict. After which, we intend to self destruct the ship. So far, the only thing for sure is that, you can NOT stop us from commenceing destruction of the derelict. Your course of action from here on shall be either considered upon your decision. Your forces may or may not be recovered. Either way, stay away from our archives, or this Battleship wont be the last to appear in the outer sectors...best of luck to your men. For Rhine!

The Twilight Frigate shuddered for a minute, before twelve pods unhooked from underneath the ship. They boosted up next to the huge ship, attaching themselves to several airlocks. Inside the airlocks were blown in, quickly resealed by the pods. Hulking machines, coffins with stubby little legs and powerful arms lumbered out of the large pods. A formidable gun on one arm, and a vicious blade on the other arm.

Several red and brown aliens scrambled out at them, entering from the darkness. A hail of fire tore them apart in seconds. Red lights glowed from their eye sockets. "For Rhine..." came the cold metallic voice.

~~~

Death! The alien scrambled off the ceiling behind the Gladiators. Screeching its tail whipped out past its head, the spike aimed at the back of one of food. Its claw, festering with all kinds of diseases lashed out following its first attack. Several more dropped down from the service vents on the ceiling. Screeching crys horrible enough to bring the untrained to their knees, they leaped at their prey.

~~~

"Commander, the Siege Drones have entered. We have comfirmed. Theirs toxins in the breathable sections of the ship. Most of it is cut off from any power, so its just floating rubble and bodys, but its not breathable air. Alien lifeforms have been encountered, and theres a hot spot nearer to the central vaults, where the Archive is. We think thats where most of them are."

"How Ironic." Breathed the Commander. "Push on. And send one more transmission to Psi-Knight Aeth'Ki."

This is Commander Alexander. There are hostiles nearer to the Vaults, which are roughly four kilometers* from the command section of the ship. Were encountering ambushing swarms of the creatures. Also, the air is toxic. Unfiltered, it could easily kill a adult human in a matter of moments. This is a leak from the chemical labs. Keep your filters on if you don't want to die. And don't let your men enter your ship with out sanitizeing them. Or your people will be infected in minutes.

Aboard the Armageddon

"CONTACT!" screamed Private Uran as another set of aliens came screeching out of the shadows. The Gladiators used their advanced, sophisticated rifles as clubs, breaking the skulls of the beings wherever possible. Guter noticed Bungh and Quanti kneeling at the floor, and realized they were attempting to haul the heavy hatch back into position. He bent down to assist them, and the thick metal slab was slowly, painstakingly raised towards its frame.

The hostile beings continued their assault, undeterred - no, encouraged - by the attempts of their prey to escape. The Gladiators fired their Negators at the narrowing gap, doing little damage but causing obvious pain to the creatures, which would jump back before charging another part of the door. Then, as the gap between the frame and door became smaller, the attack against the humans was redoubled, the door refusing to shift forward.

Luckily, the team, expecting salvage, had some structural equipment in their possession. Corporal Quanti pulled out a welder system powered by the suit's core, and began sealing the edges of the portal. Hisses and screeches emanated from the other side, and the four other Gladiator struggled to hold the door shut as the Corporal finished his desperate mission. Eventually, he reached the halfway mark, and the blows against the door were felt by the Gladiators less and less. The pounding stopped, replaced with scratching, as Quanti finished and returned to weld missed spots.

Reaching up to remove his helmet, Guter wiped his sweating brow before replacing it. These things... he hoped this character, known only as 'Marine' to them, would know how to get the hell off of this ship.

He turned to the 6 foot-something armored figure, drawing himself up to the Gladiator suit's full height and topping him by a full foot, easy. "Now... Marine... is there a way off this hellhole that isn't the way we came?"

*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*

Aboard the Scourge

Krayne listened to the message, directed not towards them, but rather towards the other ship. Their message had apparently been lost in the shuffle, or conveniently ignored. Angrily, she snatched the transmitter's headset and spat several choice words into it.

"Listen here, Pact Rhine. You are most assuredly not in interstellar space. You are in the direct vicinity of the Holdings of the Immortal Lands of the Great Lord Tiger. Already, you have made the mistake of ignoring our attempts to make contact once. I advise you not to do so again. Our 1st Home Defense Fleet is prepared for deployment at a moment's notice, and we would be glad to give it if we don't get the answers we requested." And if they could somehow make contact - but she hoped they bought the bluff. "Respond immediately, or the fury of the Great Lord Tiger descends on your heads. Good day."

Bump

Psi-Knight Aeth'Ki, this is a outter sector. As far as we are concerned, we are in hollow ground as long as we are out of major trade lanes. As for your being here, you would be correct. This is our ship. And though it was our loss of it being nearly destroyed, it is out responsibility. If you think that it was our doing of you contact being lost with your people...then that would be wrong. For one thing, sending your forces inside in the first place could be considered a act of war on the Pact Rhine. This...is not the only Battleship in the sector. The loss of one such is shocking, and we are currently searching for a cause, that you may have found. If its true that the engagements that are happening really are against aliens known as Alphair34563 or Xenomorphs or what we suspect to be a strain from a...we can not give you the information directly off the files. We ask that you stay off the ships archives. The weapon systems and shield consistance would not be compadible with your ships with out the locks or the correct power source. It would be more likely to destroy the vessel you tried to use it on. But there is information that is of great importance to the Allaince. We ask that you try to pull you men out as soon as possible while we attempt to recover our Archive onboard the derelict. After which, we intend to self destruct the ship. So far, the only thing for sure is that, you can NOT stop us from commenceing destruction of the derelict. Your course of action from here on shall be either considered upon your decision. Your forces may or may not be recovered. Either way, stay away from our archives, or this Battleship wont be the last to appear in the outer sectors...best of luck to your men. For Rhine!

You misunderstood me in some cases. I did not lose contact so to speak, but I was notified of the attack. I did not know this was your ship, nor that the act of investigation could be considered an act of war. We will pull out from the archives. Although we do not know in full what caused this, we have gained enough information from you to satisfy my objective. However, I will not be pulling my 'men' out. I will be sending them to assist you. Seeing as they are entirely robotic, controlled by my will, they are much more expendable than your soldiers are. Also, I would also like to mention there is no need for threats here."

He sent out the call to the Persecutors and Subjugators, whom immediately stopped trying to access the Archives and proceeded to pack up all their equipment. As he was overseeing this, a message came in again from the Rhine forces.

This is Commander Alexander. There are hostiles nearer to the Vaults, which are roughly four kilometers* from the command section of the ship. Were encountering ambushing swarms of the creatures. Also, the air is toxic. Unfiltered, it could easily kill a adult human in a matter of moments. This is a leak from the chemical labs. Keep your filters on if you don't want to die. And don't let your men enter your ship with out sanitizeing them. Or your people will be infected in minutes.

"Again, no need for worry. They have nothing organic for the toxin to attack. We will be on the lookout for the swarms as we head towards your position. Aeth-ki out."

The Psi-Knight focused again and the warriors then began to head back down the halls, battling aliens as they came across them. They were locked on a large energy signature and several thermal signatures some distance ahead. They continued their way towards them, as immovable as the tide.

"Theres a service vent I found in the back, past the consoles. We cant bash it in though. It may have creatures inside, but its narrow and big enough to stand in, so we would have much better luck running and gunning in there. If we got pinned down though, we would be screwed. But if you think about it its that, or that." John pointed at the door which was shuddering slightly as the aliens scratched at the door. Little dents sprang up on the metal as the tails smacked against it.

"Follow me. And this is a Military matter. Call me Private." The Marine said no more and spun on heels, strideing past the consoles not waiting for a reply. Stopping at a narrow passage with a console next to it. He entered a code into the console and the door blocking their view inside was raised. John turned on his Thermal mode and stopped at the entrance. "That door wont hold forever."

~~~~

A irritated reply bursted from the audio system of the Scourge in neatly translated language.

@Lord Tiger

And you! You have been a pain in my back. Your Lord has been cutting off Rhine voyage vectors for years! If indirectly. You bolster your tradelanes around the outter sectors claiming them for your own. Just becuase we put no markers down! This territory has no colonies in it. For good reason. Its filled with pirates and nasty aliens of all sorts. But most of it is a border zone between Pact Talbane and Pact Rhine. We bolster these sectors so we can keep enemys out, and Talbane on their cigar smokeing toes. If you have a problem with the Fleet Pact of Allied Worlds, speak to High Admiral Master Harkann! I'm sure he would just love to converse in the finer points of aimming weapons at eachother! Now If you will politely ask, I will do the same courtesy for you that I did for Aeth'Ki. The creatures are converged in the Center of the ship. Where we happen to be advanceing on. There are toxins in the air. No we have nothing to do with your loseing contact with your people, and no, I don't think it would be wonderful for you to raid a Rhine Battleship.

Alexander grumbled a few more unintelligeble (English or Galactic Basic if you will) words before ending the transmission.

~~~

From the Aeon several more men came running across the section of the tube. If you scanned closely, you could see them carrying devices giving off high energy readings...

~~~

The Tech Devicers set up the Machines with practiced ease. From the box like container sprang two turret like objects, with long blue glowing tubes at one end, and beneath that, a shorter, stubby looking tube with a glowing barrel.

The Devicer carried the turrets from either end of the chokepoint, a series of service corridors and hallways, where wounded Marines were being dragged out of every few minutes. The sound of gunfire echoed off the walls with pauses every few seconds.

The Turrets became active. They hummed and then buzzed. The Devicers quickly strode back in the direction of the Aeon, some grinning rather wickedly.

~~~

@Inter-Union

Yes I can see your only trying to help. But you must understand that we are in a troubled position. If we give out to much information, we could be put up for high treason. The situation in the outer sectors, politcal in the sense that military matters should never be, are at higher stakes for Pact Rhine then the others. Your a officer I'm sure. You know that politics is sadly all we have holding the strings together behind the Navy, the Army, and and all the other armed forces. In a way, I might as well be on the front lines in side that hell hole of a ship where my men, MY MEN are dieing! I need to get them, and that archive out of there, and then-I need to blow those creatures from doom to cold, life sucking space.

Then feel free to blow the ship, Commander, even with my forces on it. It will be a loss, yes. But seeing as the forces I sent onto your ship are merely robots, they can be replaced. They can be sent to 'die' while your men escape. Let my forces help you get the archives and then get to your shuttle. After which, you can blow the ship. I can sacrifice those units on the ship. If you still insist, I will withdraw, but I am willing to have them take the place of your soldiers at the claws of these aliens.

Aboard the Scourge

Damn, damn, damn! Captain Krayne would be lucky to not be discharged from the Imglot Navy. She was threatening war - and very well might cause it! This madness had to be ended as soon as possible.

But the Gladiators... their suits were fully sealed and had filtration systems that could drain all the oxygen necessary out of the air surrounding them without taking in toxins, but they were unaware of the situation. Assuming they took off their armor or helmets, for whatever reason? This situation was becoming more of a downward spiral with each passing moment.

She shook her head, placing her face in her hands. She might have just condemned 10 soldiers to death, and possibly sparked hostile relations between Imglot and this other nation. It would be just the luck of the Immortal Lands if they had been intruding upon trade routes for the mere 5 cycles* they had been interstellar.

Seeking a way to remedy the disaster, Krayne picked up her mic once more. "Forgiveness is asked. The Imglot government has not made any formal claim on these lands; I was merely expressing concern over the proximity of potential threats to our home planet. We have been interstellar travelers for mere cycles, and have little knowledge of most areas, even directly outside our orbit. As for the ship...

"My men are sealed in powered armors that will resist any sort of toxin short of a gamma ray exposure. I guarantee that they will not be effected by these toxins. The team is cut off from communication, as you know, but they are trained to handle situations on their own. They can assist your men in their mission, and will gladly do so, without you having to worry about state secrets, but I beg of you: do you have transmission capabilities with your own men, and would you relay a message to ours if so?"

*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*^/\^*

Aboard the Armageddon

"I think I'd prefer taking the chance," Guter said dryly, watching the sealed door bang angrily. The squad of Gladiators followed the armored soldier to his service vent. It truly was narrow; the Gladiator armor would fit, but they wouldn't be doing too much lateral movement. He contemplated the shape of the vent, its structure, where it seemed to be weak. "Watch this, Private," he said over his shoulder, as he made the third kick of the past ten minutes.

* Galactic Standard Cycle - about equivalent to one year.

John, unsure if he should be getting to 'friendly' with these new aliens, put a armoured hand on Guter's shoulder. "This, is a door, you DON'T want to kick down." John made the DON'T stand out in a way that would translate into VERY BAD for any species. John crept up to the door and pushed a button on the console. For any species who had little expertise with the wonders of the universe, the diverse and detailed fully coloured Holo map that sprang out into thin air in front of the console would amaze. For John, it was standard.

He pointed at the spot they were at now, in the section of the ship closest to the area labled Ship Core. "This is the Service tunnel. Now if you think about it, its small. Meaning sound carries. And we don't know if those things have gotten inside it. Meaning we should open it without smashing things down. Now pay close attention to the first twist. Yeah, don't go that way, or your going to be floating in space as you get sucked out the garbage locks. Pass that, and take a turn. I say we get off at this Service Tunnel here. We can rejoin the main push at the choke point from there. Or rather, I can rejoin the main push, and you can take this corridor back to your ship-" John stopped suddenly. He held up a hand to stop any questions. "Change of plans. Your Captain has just ordered you to assist the push. I hope you feel special. Your going to bug central with me." The way John put it, it sounded bad.

John pushed a button on the Console, shutting down the map. He then opened the door. The metal panel that blocked their way in slid up quietly, like a whisper in the dark, which it was as further in, was darkness. "Your acting command sarge. Who takes point?"

~~~

"The command was sent. Lucky for us, the Imglot guys are with one of ours. A Marine. He said he has a plan. He'll join up with them in the main assault."

Alexander nodded. "At ease. And send a replie to that Imglot ship."

~~~~

Your men have been notified. If you really want to help, allow them to join the main assault. That way when and if they get back with all our men, they shall have a safe passage to your ship.

~~~~

@Inter-Union

Very well. Your...machines can aide us in our task if you decide to do so. While we cant ask that you, even though they are machines, abandon them, we do ask that you allow us to join the push to the vaults. Our Tech Devicers are the only ones who can break the central vaults lock. And transport the Archive back in one peice for that matter. Your help is thanked in the fullest. Pact Rhine extends its hands in help, should you need our assistence in the future. I'll make sure of it.

[OOC]: HE'S BACK!

Aboard the Armageddon

"When you're right, you're right," the sergeant said, thanking his blessings that he hadn't just brought every single one of those things crashing down on their heads. His trained memory, an integral part of any NCO or officer in the Imglot military, recalled enough of that map that he had seen for a mere minute that he felt relatively comfortable with the lead.

"No offense, Private, but your armor is a tad on the weak side, compared to ours. It would be safer if one of us took point." He scanned the four remaining soldiers of his direct command, and pointed at Cpl. Quanti. "Corporal, take point!"

"Sir!" the man snapped in return, stepping into the tunnel, Negator at the ready.

Guter followed the enlisted man, his rifle also at the ready - little use that it was against these... things. In the darkness of the tunnel, their eyes glowed bright, the sensors making the crawlspace as light as day. Thermal signatures would indicate any - there!

Private Uran also noticed the heat spike. He fired a shot at a fluid transfer pipe, which was radiating heat. The bolt was deflected by the well-built construction, but the sound of the beam echoed through the bowels of the ship, inviting those creatures to another banquet. Angrily, Guter muted his external transmissions and screamed at the Private through the Direct-Comms-Line. He would have liked to given the idiotic little punk a good kick in the... sounds echoed in the darkness. Not the tell-tale whine of the Negator, but living sounds. Rustling... scratching... growling.

"Shit," he said quietly, external transmissions reactivated. "Double-time it, Gladiators. We're gonna have some company." Grabbing at his belt, he snatched a Hellfire plasma grenade. These things wouldn't like his sting one bit.

Aboard the Scourge

Fan-frickin'-tastic, Krayne thought to herself. Now I won't get court marshaled for causing war; I'll get marshaled for aiding foreign powers without the express consent of the Imglot Government. Wonderful.

OOC: Gah? I don't constantly post you know, I do have other things that I do.

IC:

That is all I ask, Commander. My forces are moving to connect with your own before the final push to these Vaults you speak of. I wish you the best of luck and will do my best to see my forces ensure your victorious retrieval and escape."

The forces in question were already closing in on the position of the main United Fleets force, with their Siege Drones enabling the robots to get a good look on them. The soldiers of TUF could hear the whine of plasma fire coming closer, as well as the screeching of the aliens whom had been attacking. Finally, a flurry of plasma bolts pinned a alien to the end of a hallway they could see and a Persecutor turned the corner, carefully scanning the area. Upon seeing the Fleet forces, it nodded and lowered its weapon, walking over to them. It was followed by its forces, still carrying repair and computer equipment. Walking over, it began to speak.

"We have come to aid in your push to the Vaults. We will deal with the aliens while you secure what you need.

John slid easily enough past the bulky armour of the Gladiators to the fore of the line of soldiers. Holding his weapon from the waist, his scanner targetted multiple aliens for him. "Contacts in bound. Follow me, and dont forget to check those corners!" For once taking command when he would normally take orders, John, forgetting everything for a moment, led the band ahead, where the aliens were.

Hissing blue rounds blazed out of his weapon. The aliens toppled over as well placed bursts downed them one by one as they scrambled over eachover to get to their prey. Downing the last of the batch that was attacking them, he quickly took to a side passage, waveing on the gladiators. "My armour may not be as thick sarge, but my scanner is better. I saw those things a mile away. Now follow me if you want to live." The line was cheasy, but John hadn't really intended to give up position at point. And the ineffective corporal put at the fore proved his point. John didn't think Guter would argue.

Downing one more chargeing alien, it screeched as its life blood poured out of it. Leading the band down a series of corridors trying to lose the swarm, they ended up slowing down. John turned around and looked over the Gladiators' shoulders. "My scanner and all my other vision modes say we lost them. This way." The Marine went farther in, stopping at a large door. Entering a code into the console next to it, it slid open. Slowly. Really slowly. REALLY SLOWLY. Slow. Then opened.

"Guess who just rejoined the party." Said John, glanceing over his shoulder. "Mister scartchy does not look pleased." A growl sounded off in front of John. With more screechs farther behind. "Get your sticks ready boys. We have a party to get to." Raiseing his rifle, he sighted the lead alien.

~~~

The Captain who had first entered the ship looked on at the group of machines. The robot came forward and said its work. "Well look who joined the party. Yeah the commander said you would be comeing. What ever YOU are. But enough of that for now. You see that big hall in front of us, the one those guys are at, shooting guns at that horde of aliens? Yeah. We need to get past those aliens."

"I've got our six covered," Guter told the UF soldier. He primed the small, spherical device in his hand, counting to 3 before tossing it. "Get down!"

The hallway behind them erupted in a blinding flash of blue light, and screeches and roars spoke of the aliens being roasted by the plasma burn. Guter leaped up, his Negator droning as he found and shot targets. The bolts of blue-white light didn't destroy the alien beings, but they did a sufficient job of pockmarking even their armor-like hides to the point that they would collapse from overwhelming injury. Still and all, he didn't like the situation one bit.

"So, do you have any, you know, human friends on-board?!?" Guter shouted as another energy round from his gun hit a creature in its eye, causing it to shriek and charge him. He promptly punched it with his right arm, the suit's augmentation allowing him to break its skull. They weren't so tough, one on one. Unfortunately, the odds were more like one on ten.

"Friends?" John said like he had never once heard the word. The screech from the alien in front of him was cut off as a burst of plasma fire roasted its chest and tore apart its rib cage. "Hmm. Well I suppose I do. If you meant, any Human friends that can help us fight these bugs, sure thing! Well get to them after we kill all of these!" Said John, his wicked grin hidden behind a Combat Visor and alien blood spewed across his face plate. Electronic brushes wiped away the grime.

John ducked back and fired a spray at the aliens. A torrent of rounds ripped apart a alien that almost had the best of the Corporal who had previously been on point. "Follow me." John grunted to Guter, smacking away a alien that was trying desperately to stick its tail in his throat.

John cleared a path with his Carbine, the weapon now launching more powerful rounds, large balls of plasma that exploded and spewed death or entangled the aliens. "That wont last long. To the chokepoint!" John scrambled over bodys and shot down aliens that had avoided entanglement or death. Clearing the gap, he waited by the overhanging door. With one hand on the console and the other on the trigger, he held off the aliens while the Gladiators scrambled past the door.

The door closed in right on a aliens neck. John kicked the head, smashing in the skull with a armoured boot. "Now who wants to meet my friends?" Said John, a grin playing on his face. Though the Gladiators wouldn't notice that.

Bump?

bump

Bump-C-C-C-COMBO-BREAKER!

This little punk's got the moves, Guter thought to himself wryly. The private had single-handedly disposed of a good dozen or so beings. Then again, he did have weaponry that could actually do notable damage to these things. Still, the battle was taking its toll on them; most of the Gladiators were visibly shaken - Corporal Quanti actually seemed to be panting - and there was no end in sight. The only thing holding them up was advanced powered armor and sheer force of will.

He began to take his helmet off for another breather, but was stopped by a chirping alarm. On his visor, a message appeared:

WARNING: UNSAFE LEVELS OF TOXINS DETECTED. MAINTAIN FULL ATMOSPHERIC SELF-REGULATION

So, he couldn't take off his helmet. Bummer. But it was then that he noticed a scratch in Corporal Quanti's armor. Suddenly, it snapped into place - his irregular breathing, his lack of energy.

"Shit! Corporal, report on your status." He immediately engaged his Squad Leader - Member Diagnosis System and checked Quanti's vitals. Elevated heartbeat, high blood pressure, low O2 concentrations in his blood - a whole array of bad things.

"Sir, I'm... I'm fine," he said, his voice quavering.

Swearing at himself, he fumbled for his emergency med supplies. It would just figure that one of the men down would be the medic. He found a can of biofoam and sprayed the hole, but he worried it might be too late. Time would tell.

"Let's get a move-on, Private!" he called to the Pact soldier.

"We took a deviation from the path. It'll take longer at this point. Hold on. I'm looking for away around the obstructions. We may have to sneak past some aliens before we even get near our target. So everyone take a few minutes while I find us a path." John ducked under a beam, and crawled over rubble and trash, exiting view.

~~~

"For Rhine!" Several Marines charged, guns blazeing through the corridors, downing aliens here and there. Now aware of what they were faceing, there were no problems in holding the line.

As the Marines thundered past, the creature slinked past, hidden in shadow. It had been waiting for them, The Brood, just waiting for a way to expand. The Brood realised that most of this hive was broken, and that The Brood was dieing slowly. Soon, though, the Praetor would be ready. And when the Praetor was ready...the entire Big Space would quake in fear of The Brood.

The massive alien stood at its full height. The halls of the chamber were massive as well, houseing several node-like things. Every few seconds, an infant alien would tumble out of one of them. The Alien watched with Intelligent eyes at the Cacoon in front of it. The Metal Hive, the one that came with Pink Things inside, shall be our seed. And from it, shall burst forth a Brood ten times bigger then this.

The Creature, Instictively, looked out the huge window, the depths of space outside.

~~~

"For Rhine..." The Siege Drone smashed down the door, stretching the doorway to allow entrence. The metal bended like plastic, groaning all the while. The Siege Drone, standing at a height of 9 and a half feet, loomed over the Gladiators, bloody blade ready to strike, large gattleing gun ready to mow down any opposition.

"Identify yourself, or you shall be terminated. Waiting for language, downloading pattern. You have 10...9...8...7...6...5..."

John jumped on the back of the Siege Drone, pulling a wire out of the back of his armour. He jerked his hand and stuck the wire in the back of the Siege Drones head. The thing twisted in protest for a moment, then stood still, glowing red eyes still stareing at the Gladiators.

"The Drone just made us a entrance. Lets go. And don't ask where I've been. You dont want to know." John held up a head, the aliens blood dripping onto the floor. He tossed it to the side and waved on everyone. "I need a vacation..."

The robot gazed at the Captain for a few moments, and then turned to look down the hall, its scanners taking in the situation. Then it hefted its right arm, complete with attached energy bolt launcher, and nodded. "Understood; moving to assist allied forces." It began to move down the hall, the forces that had come with it moving behind it. Soon enough they came to the fire fight going on where the Marines were trying to break through the alien tide. The Persecutors moved in, their right arm cannons flashing and sending bits of aliens flying as blasts sufficient enough to blow apart light vehicles slammed into their ranks. This was followed up by an array of plasma weaponry, rifles, shotguns, pistols, etc that came in from the Subjugators. They moved fast, pounding the aliens hard as they sliced into their lines.

They were not hesitant to fight them up close and personal either. Their strength was enough to crush any normal human's head or limb under their robotic hands, so they tussled with the aliens quite well. They still took losses, as units became too damage to continue fighting and their power died out. However, they kept fighting, working to keep up their part of the deal.

"We'll go wherever you lead, Private, but Quanti isn't doing so good." Guter gestured towards the wounded soldier.

The corporal's health had deteriorated considerably. The only thing keeping him up was the Gladiator's virtual inability to fall down when worn. His signatures were collapsing dreadfully; there was no way he would last ten minutes. The Sergeant called him on his comm.

"Corporal... are you all right?"

"Sarge... I'm... I'm not doin' so hot..."

Guter watched the suited figure limp over to the door they had passed earlier, the deja vu apparent as the door shivered and shook with aliens attempting to force their way through.

"Sir... permission to... stay behind?" Quanti looked at him, his physical condition inscrutable through the mask. Guter realized what the corporal was asking, and felt a shiver down his spine.

"What would you do?" he asked the soldier calmly, more calmly then he felt. Quanti dug two Hellfires out of his suit's compartments.

"Some... damage," the injured man said weakly, but slyly. Guter nodded.

"Give 'em hell, Gladiator," he said, the pun unintended but fitting. Turning to their guide, he realized that he would be blessed by the Great Lord if he were ever to get off of this ship and see his children again. "Take us to your leader, Private. I've got a score to settle with these spiky bastards."

As they passed through the doorway, a slam was heard from behind them, the sound of a heavy metal hatch falling to the ground. Almost immediately, the sky erupted in blue light, and the air rushed into the room they had vacated. Aliens 1, humans 20.

John kept his comments to himself. He watched the scene unfold and as they heat passed he thought, What they lack in sophistication, they ten fold make up for with courage and bravery. I wish we had some of these guys in the outfit.

John Nodded to Guter. "Were close now. Hear that gunfire? Thats the sound of Marines rallying, and kicking alien ass. Now lets go join them." John strode at the head of the now one less of a group. John made a mental note to remember these guys.

"Guter...who are you guys really?" John asked, again bringing up his question again. "There was talk of a few other empire encroaching on the outter sectors, but I didn't expect to meet any, much less do battle alongside their soldiers on a derelict Battleship."

Weapons fire sounded, indicating the presence of life; and yet, their immediate surroundings were dead still. The group walked on in the empty hallways, nearing their destination. And vengeance.

"Funny how these things work, huh?" Guter shook his head disbelievingly. "Now... this news of an empire encroaching - well, we have a planet only ten AUs or so from here. And as for why we're here." Snorting, Guter punched a wall. Stupid, really; 6 men had died under his command already. "This was supposed to be a salvage op - that's what we were told. We have a battleship outside that we were test-running, and we ran into you on our outer borders. We came upon this hulk, saw your smaller ship - the one you probably came from - and thought that this was a free-for-all derelict salvage. We thought wrong."

Around another corner, alien screeches could be heard, and weaponry blasted angrily. A dead xenomorph collapsed in front of the turn, followed by a living one. His lip curling, Guter moved forward, seizing the hissing alien by its face. As its tail whipped around to stab him, his other hand grabbed it, and he ripped the creature in two. Another charged him, and he stabbed the tail at it, the spike just as deadly to them as it was to humans. Gurgling and screeching emanated from the being as it collapsed, tail rammed down its throat. Hardly subtle, but then, they were wearing seven foot power armor.

Guter led the charge around the corner, coming upon a scene of chaos.

The robots advanced with the Marines, tearing apart the horde of aliens with blazeing fire that nearly lit up the entire area, and bashing in skulls with crackleing Stun Batons. The weapon would send aliens dashed against walls, blood seeping out, or crushed into the ground in a broken heap.

"Squad 1 advanceing."

"Squad 3 giving covering Fire."

"Squad 2 on the way."

Several more Sergeants comfirmed what John already knew on the Command Channel, which of course he wasn't suppose to be on. But he didn't think anyone would really care.

John exited the channel. "Guter, we need to find a way through. My Captains around here somewhere. We need to go to him before we engage."

The Gladiators would see flashes of plasma and several white robots battling with the alien xenomorphs. They struggled with them, as claws and savagery met brute strength and computer efficiency. Silvery hands closed and alien brains slipped onto the flair. Alien claws shimmered in the light of plasma fire and dug themselves deep into the armor the Union forces. They were pushing them back, however, serving at the front so the Fleet Marines behind them could mop up what was left and not experience casualties. Their dead was different than Union 'dead'. The Persecutors spotted an advancing group of xenomorphs and scared them off with a volley of heavy plasma rounds. They continued on, blasting apart all they saw as they moved to the objective.

The Vaults.

The battle was joined, but only for a passing moment. Sergeant Guter scanned the combat zone, taking account of the clearing area. A group of combatants, apparently led by robotic soldiers, advanced against a swarm of aliens, pushing them slowly but inexorably backwards. He considered the tactical situation, making a note of the side passages.

Spotting what seemed to be a cluster of Pact officers and noncoms, Guter stepped over, his armored boots crushing alien bodies underfoot. He towered over the leaders of this operation, and yet, an enlisted man always respected his officers.

"Sergeant Guter, Imglot Space Navy. We're here to assist you. This bug nest," Guter said slowly, thinking it over. "Is this big passageway the only way there?"

"We expect the various side passages may lead to the general area of the Nest. The only problem is, that the swarm is far bigger then you might think would be possible. The tunnels are backed up with bodys and still the damn things swarm over them, jumping at our positions like moths to the flame. We only hold positions thanks to our Mobile Turrets. The plasma rounds were made to take out light vehicles, so we can punch through armour of Heavy Infantry as well, but thats just it. These bugs are tough. Tough and in large quantity. If we could find some way to distract them, we could send in a small team to get the archive, get some Intel on those bugs, and get out of there. But it would almost certainly be a suicide mission."

The Captain gave the Gladiator a once over. His grizzled face took in the rest of the squad and he put his eyes on the Private. John nearly winced when those pierceing eyes rested on him. But honed skill and will-power kept him rigged.

John saluted. "Sir?" He said externally. "Private John Iridan, we have to talk." The Captain nodded at Guter. "Talk with my right hand man." A young Lieutenant walked up to Guter. "Follow me to the forward post. Thats where the main push is."

While the Lieutenant guided the Gladiators to where the fighting was, the Captain all but dragged the Private away.

BuMpEr.