Hetzer's Recollection of the STG Job: Part 2

The EMP burst has messed up station scanners, so they are no help.  


Finding bomb with dirty strontium casing.



Fighting pit. Telling the Colonel to bet against me.

This is how I looked before the Fighting Pit.

This is how I looked after the Fighting Pit.

Colonel winning $600.

Tobey screwing up talking to the bar big wigs, made to eat floor dirt.

Ahh, those were good times indeed . . .

Roughing up the informant.

Informant telling us about the gang who was known for such types of bomb tactics.

Hetzer's Recollections of the STG Job: Part 1

I am still not yet fully recovered form the full-metal pounding I took from the nightmare toaster monster. The Colonel's voice drones on, just like my drill sergeant back in the Orion Cluster Union Army.  I quietly spit up some bloody phlegm. I wanna snap his neck so badly, I can taste it. 

The drill sergeant's neck, not the Colonel's. For a hard-nose, the Colonel ain't bad.

I look around at my crew clustered around the navigation console on the space station. So, with all the korrin' jobs I have done with the Colonel and the others, this had to be the cushiest. Just stop the attacks on the Seiver Trade Group. Easy, easy as thumping someone on the head with some spring coshes. Whump. They're down. But then they'll come back up again. 

Only one way to fix that, to stop 'em from attacking.

Problem solved.

Just shoot the bastards in the head. 

Works for me; works for most of the universe.

So I watched the Colonel, Forrester, and most of our brainy crew of the Wayward Bastard plot out on the korring' holo-screen the sequence of events that the STG suits had laid out for us. They were whining to us about their losses, and hired us to find out who was behind the attacks and stop 'em. So here we stood on this ugly space station listenin' to their stupid security chief drone on and on.  

I want a cigarette, and I don't even smoke. 

Sure, two of their ships were attacked, another ship MIA and presumed destroyed, and a whole bunch of shoot-'n'-scoots on various planets, includin' Ezastes, where the corporate fatcats were. Me, I was trying to offer my keen tactical insights, but most of my body, including my precious brain pan, was still purple and squishy. 

That korring expensive Turdstick. 

It had proved to be way too valuable to unload on any planetary market now, so we have to sit on it for a while, wait for the market to cool and coalesce so that it would be ready to suck up the immense void we will make in its monetary resources. So once again my dreams of retiring without wearing pants will have to wait.

Yup, that's gonna be me. Hitting the beach instead of some korring bastard's face.

Still, I could get some easy credits now, by sellin' off some spare parts from Paycheck, the one half of the Wonder Twins who's got a penchant for telekinetically annoying me. Cassandra's young, she won't miss a finger or two . . .

I get back abruptly from my waking reverie when Spot pounds on the table, almost barking out a question. Doc's meds were working on me, probably too well. 

Why is the korrin' room spinnin' so slowly?

I blink and press a fresh scab on my scalp. That sends me fully back to reality. 

Painful korrin' reality.

It was amazing to watch my crew mates expend so much precious brain juice on the STG puzzle. I watch Spot as he drags up another question. Spot kept scratching his head throughout the meeting. Scratch, scratch, scratch. I wondered why he would keep doing that. It's so annoying. For a Ganjuko, he ain't bad.

It was also so annoying that on the STG space station when we were told we couldn't bring no korrin' explosives, no rifles, and no smoking. Colonel even had to leave his power armor on the ship. I know how he feels. But I got to keep my PDW, and I smuggled a wee grenade boom-ball in. Tobey did a whole lot of crying and swearing about not having his sniper rifle.  There was signs everywhere about no smoking on the space station. So naturally I wanted a pack of smokes. No korring dispensaries anywhere on the station. I was being nice and "diplomatic," but still no korring smokes. Forrester kept giving me the "shush" mouth for some reason during the meeting.


It was clear the attackers were building up to a bigger bang on STG. Small hits scattered about, meant to distract and fragment resources. We did that on Cochinay, when I was back in the OCU army. Korring 'Cates. Punch 'em all in the face with the sharpened end of a rusty pipe and let'em bleed it all out. I killed a Hectatan soldier once just to watch him die, but then my buddy distracted me and I missed it . . .

Aah, the good old days in the OCU.

I drift back into the world on the Wayward Bastard. Suddenly, brain synapses not dulled by O-piumTabs spark and exchange neuron banter. The missing ship, the Whatever-It's-Called, would make an excellent remote-piloted bomb, and it would do a world of hurt to the space station.  Lots of pretty fires, but it would be korring awful thing to do. But Forrester and the Colonel think the STG research station on Caleb would be the next target. Forrester ain't bad for a suit, but I go where the Colonel says. The Colonel's usually got his head on straight, and when he agrees with the suit, well, it's time to pack my weapons and . . .

Does Spot have fleas? That would korring explain his head scratching. . . .

Later, I end up getting a pack of smokes delivered to me by one of the STG staff. On a silver platter. I tipped him well. Who says that I can never be a good korring diplomat?

* * * * * * * * * *

So we settle into a standard low orbital sweep of the dustball moon Caleb, where the STG research station is situated. Nothing special on the scanners. Atmo is breathable, so no korrin' enviro suits needed, just some oxygen boosters if we plan on doing a five-mile hike. The whole "breathable atmosphere" is a big plus in my book. 

I hate visors.

The captain lets me use the big talking stick to secure landing permission. Well, I think he did. The others took the comm from me and told the research station folk of our STG employers and what we feared was coming their way. Forrester really talks nice when he has to. Like I said, for a suit, he ain't bad. Even the Colonel was using korring polite language. It sickens my stomach. No, wait, I think it's the vertigo from the shuttle craft launch . . .

Later on Caleb, it was me, Colonel, Tobey, Forrester, and Paycheck who knocked on the research station's front door. The others stayed on the ship, scanning and doing lookout. Caleb was a dry, rocky moon, which had some scrub but reminded me too much of a desert planet I had a mercenary job on, where someone in the squad didn't do their job and frisk the prisoners thoroughly, so when the grenade went off, all I could taste was cold sand, and dust, and some bits of warm gristle . . .

I really think that Spot has korring fleas. 

We met the station manager, and I forgot her name. Good looking getaway sticks on that dame, but she was no MkIV Assault Walker. The STG research station was actually a power converter station. STG was using this facility to explore some old Federation technologies of EEEs---efficient energy exchanges---and the STG research could pave the way for endless supply of cheap but STG-owned resources.  She also told us there no smoking anywhere in the facility. Something about an open flame taking out the research station with a large chunk of the moon's crust in a superheated ball of unstable gasses. But I really wanted to smoke . . .

Now that I think about it, Spot probably doesn't have fleas.  Otherwise he'd be scratching all over and not just his head.

We had a big pow-wow with the security manager, swapping our intel. I was bored, so I looked around. A lot.  And just like the space station, there were no cigarette vending machines here on Caleb. Why was it so korring hard to make smokes availlable on a STG moon? We were paid to protect their precious korring assets, and the least the STG suits could do is make me comfortable. 

I like fire.

Suddenly the all power dies off in a lowering hum of despair. Not the "brown-out" or "emergency lights are still on" but the "oh crap, where did I put the flashlights, I'm scared as I can't see anything because it's so korring dark" kind of outage. Klaxons come one and get get korrin' loud, and when all the power finally flickers comes back on, all the monitor screens are fuzzy with gray squiggles. The security chief goes all ferociously interrogative with her crew, the ones she can still talk to on the intercoms. WTKH?

Sometimes the best way to gain intel is to look out a korrin' window. And what we saw were pretty, pretty lights in the sky, all sorts of ionized gasses swirling in Caleb's stratosphere.

Some overly malicious types, probably the same ones we were hired to stop, had set off a nuclear bomb in the upper atmo. No direct percussive blast damage, just lots and lots of EMP to korrin' mess up the research station's tidy power grids. All unshielded systems are going to need a hard rewire and reboot. The Wayward Bastard sensors are functional but scrambled, but the captain tells us a small skiff is landing on the moon's surface, about two clicks from our position. No more data is available . . .

The Colonel unholsters his enormous handgun, which make me think the Colonel has some serious korrin' personal issues. Tobey whines about not having his fave gyroc rifle. For a half-toaster, he sure can whine. We three head for the given coordinates in a powered tram; the skiff has touched down outside the station near the environmental control substations. Forrester and Paycheck head off with the security manager to the station's armory, as we are going to need more korring firepower than just our personal sidearms to deal with these jokers and their thermonuclear daywrecker.

Note to self: Always make sure to pack boom-balls when visiting new planets.

We arrive some time later at the substations, which are set off from the main station's west side, with mostly open scrub and sand terrain with some engineering towers and unused machine parts available for cover. We spy in the distance two korring bastards, muffled in desert-garb and toting some big-bore boomsticks. They look to be in full enviro suits or maybe some korrin' archaic armor. They have a third bipedal thing with them, on a massive leash, some hulking brute of a creature that looks like the Colonel's mom, if the Colonel's mom would ever shave. They are about 200 meters away, so we take cover and aim our puny weapons at their general vicinity. 

The korring creature is released and sets out after us, loping like the Colonel's mom at closing time at the HamShaktm. The two korring bastards take up flanking positions on the beast and trot for cover. Tobey and Colonel settle in, while I make the short run up field. During this sprint about 90 percent of my muscles are screaming; the other 10% is simply wincing.

So then why was Spot scratching his head?


Over our helmet intercoms, the Colonel identifies the korring creature as a a Sikanderun Near-Troll, which just confirms for me that it is his mom. The two bastards set down some suppressive fire with 10mm slugs, one of which manages to clip the Colonel. The Colonel is pissed. The near-troll is charging us (specifically the Colonel) slobbering and huffering in the thin air. I scurry for right flanking position, making sure the korring beast and his compatriots see me. I wanted to korring draw the beast in, so that Colonel and Tobety would have some excellent korring targets. I see the beast as it gets closer, and is it korring ugly . . .

Your momma is so ugly . . . well, see for yourself . . .

Until this point, I had really thought about drawing my spring coshes and seeing if I could korring make a knock-out with one awesome whack to the head, but I could see as the Colonel's mom got even nearer it had some exoskeleton carapaces over vital areas, so there went my korring plan of having a good time.  


Now, this is what I call a korring good time . . .



We are letting the beast coming in hot, hell-bent for the Colonel, knuckles and toenails flinging the deserty sand behind it like free Orion chili being served on Winterbreak Day. Colonel announces on the intercom he is aiming for his mom's left knee, and braces his massive revolver. Tobey announces he is doing the same. Colonel and Tobey dicker about who's going shoot the right knee. 

For a half-toaster, Tobey can sure be impudent.

I take a bead on the nearest bad guy. But about ten meters away, the Colonel's mom veers off unexpectedly for Tobey, slamming into him with a train-wreck of hurt with a first-class ticket. The Colonel lets his mom know exactly what he's packing; large-bore slug rip through the beast's shoulder and chest carapaces, and now large-bore wounds leak greeny goo. Tobey's 5.56mm weapon tickles Colonel's mom, but in the end, the Colonel commits big-bore matricide with extreme prejudice. The beast slumps onto its back, leaking ooze and ugly. I check out Tobey; he is hurt but will recover, even if I left my first-aid kit back on the ship. 

Note to self: Pack first-aid kit in with boom-balls next time. 

It looks like the beast is dead, but I am not taking any chances. I place my wee boom-ball in the beast's mouth and kick its jaws shut, just to korring make sure the ugly one has a really, really bad day. Tobey shrieks and ducks for cover.

Boom. Head shot. From within.

Meanwhile, our two targets are retreating, disappearing behind a large dune. Tobey and Colonel hobble along to give chase. Suddenly, the roar of twin boosters on full throttle burn shakes the dry air around us, and a small unmarked spacecraft lifts off. It could either be a big shuttle or a little teeny starship. Tobey and Colonel dicker about who is going to shoot the korring ship, but the ship doesn't korring pay any heed to their words. I stare at the receding ship through binoculars. 

I wonder if Spot has mange. But just on his head? That ain't korring right . . .

Colonel calls in the situation to Forester and the others, and our secure lines crackle with questions. Soon the brains of the Wayward Bastard condense those jumble of questions into one big one: Why set off an atmospheric thermo-nuclear device to scramble communications when they could have easily set off a ground thermo-nuclear device and taken out the power station?

Searching around, we found out why . . .

Midgard: A world unto itself



Midgard is often welcomed in lightly populated fringe territories as they
are willing to trade advanced technologies for local products
at a much better price than most corporate interests.



During the chaotic, warring-states period prior to the formation of the Federation, one man had an idea. He proposed to design and create a mobile space station capable of travelling interstellar distances while housing the population of a fair-sized city in style and comfort. He believed that the root cause of all war was population pressure, and the competetion for scarce, easily accessible resources. He theorized that his idea would alleviate issues of population pressure. If one of the stations became too crowded it would simply construct a new habitat and divide, much like cellular reproduction. Likewise he thought that mobilizing the population would eliminate resource competition because there would no longer be any permanent territorial claims. If there was a dispute about resources, it would always be easier to move to another nearby source then to fight over one.

This idea seemed to resonate with some fraction of the population and enough investors and volunteers came forward to actually begin construction on the first of these tremendous mobile habitats. Christened Midgard by its predominantly human inhabitants, it was the first and, ths far, only one of its kind as several years before its construction was completed the Federation came in to being and the problem that the project was started to combat faded away.

At over 25km in length, the Midgard is still the largest mobile artificial structure ever created. With a permanent population numbering over twenty million, it is more populous than many frontier worlds. It spends its time leisurely travelling from star system to star system, some inhabitated, some not.

Midgard collects most of its raw materials from the millions of uninhabited systems, when calling on settled worlds they generally refrain from everything except trade. Midgard has its own manufacturing facilities and is essentially self-sufficient. It engages in interstellar commerce to acquire luxury or specialty goods and to supplement its own resources.

Because of the permissive legal environment, and sovereign status, Midgard is also something of a smugglers haven. There is little in the way of commerce tax and Midgard only prohibits the sale of slaves and dangerous biological material.

Other species common to fringe space

Nagano: The Nagano are a shy, secretive people by nature. Their homeplanet was originally discovered by over a thousand years ago by Svesh raiders. The Nagano were subject to constant attacks from space and were unable to respond effectively with their limited technology. No other galactic race was willing to trade with them until they were finally able to present proof of the raids to a Quwern trading convoy.

Taking pity on the less-developed aliens, the Quwern trader not only negotiated a lucrative arms deal, he also returned to his homeworld and was responsible for pushing his government to create diplomatic ties to the Nagano homeworld.

Because of their intial treatment by the galactic community, the Nagano tend to feel isolated and mistrustful of aliens, but they make an exception for the Quwern, whom they consider trusted allies.

Roegaren: The Roegaran people evolved on a small rocky moon orbiting a massive gas giant. They are a small, hardy people that are comfortable in a wide variety of environments.

They are also extremely gregarious, the planetary system where they developed was first discovered by a human survey vessel that initiated first contact per Federation guidelines.
Roegarans are extremely curious by nature and often pursue careers in science and exploration. They are highly sought-after for service on long-term expeditions because their friendly demeanor and desire for new knowledge makes them valuable crewman.

Unfortunately the fall of the old Federation had unpleasant repercussions for them as they relied of the Federation Fleet for military security. Within a few years of the collapse their homeworld was conquered by a petty Risanthan warleader named Dicunna.

Vaskri: The Vaskri are renowned diplomats, scholars, and philosophers. Unlike almost all other intelligent species, they did not develop a secondary channel of communication through facial expression and body language. To compensate, the Vaskri depend on tonality of speech and the extensive vocabulary of their langauges to convey context and emotion. The most common Vaskri langauge has a corpus of almost ten million distinct words, even more when conjugation and alternate word forms are included. Normal Vaskri speech is described as musical and their songs and poetry are revered by most other species as the height of beauty.

In contrast, Vaskri philosophy is very similar in nature to ancient human stoicism, or even zen. The universe is described as an unthinking, unfeeling, uncomprehendable enormity. The only thing that the individual has control over is their means of responding to events. To guide these responses, the Vaskri have developed what they call the "Four Pillars" to help them. This philosophy has gained some traction outside the Vaskri community and is widely studied even by non-adherents.

Missing in Action: UNS Lexington



The ill-fated UNS Lexington in orbit around Tiferet,
just beyond the Mannerheim Docks where she was
constructed. Capture taken July 17th, 3102 as she
departed on her shakedown cruise.

The UNS Lexington was a Toulon-class light carrier design commisioned in 3104.
The Toulon-class was a new, modern design implemented during the height of the Orion Cluster Union's military build-up and it represented a new step forward in capital chip design.

The Toulons were created to serve as the centerpiece of so-called fast action grous. These small, agile task forces were intended to move quickly and stealthily deep into disputed or hostile territory and create utter chaos in enemy rear areas by disrupting logistical systems, destroying supply depots and construction capacity, and creating an element of fear and uncertainty in the enemy population.

Unfortunately, the Hecatan penetration of the Orion military establishment was almost complete. Of the 17 Toulon-class carriers, eleven had their deployment orders countermanded so took no part in the brief conflict and five were attacked and neutralized in their berths. Only the Lexington was able to leave dock.

She was destined never to reach her assigned patrol station though. When Hecatan intelligence learned of the Lexington's escape, they assigned a full third of their 8th fleet (70 combatant ships ranging from frigates to battleships) to track down the Lexington and her four escorts.

The Hecatan's followed the Lexington to the Cygna Ramillies system. Cygna Ramillies is an astronomical oddity, a binary star system that had a stable planetary system collided with another single star system only fairly recently (in astronomical terms). The resulting trinary star system is almost completely covered with an unusually dense asteroid field filled with ferrous metals and radioactives. Despite the wealth and rarity of the mineral deposits, the inherent instability of the star system makes exploitation difficult so Cygna Ramillies is only home so a few small, unlicensed colonies and itinerent freebooters.

The Hecatan forces went in and stalked the Orion ships for almost three weeks before finally claiming victory and departing. They left behind a heavy cruiser and four destroyers as total losses and eleven other ships in the fleet were damaged to varying degrees, including the flagship Durandel which was crippled by a collision with an Orion fightercraft.

The only sensor records released of the battle to confirm the destruction of the Lexington was somewhat inconclusive and its authenticity has been called into question. Some people still claim that the Lexington escaped destruction and elected not to return to Tiferet to be dismantled.

Session 5, part 3: Chaos at Toro Station

The party descended back to the lower levels of the power station and entered the tram terminal. It was a small, unfurnished room with two sets sliding doors leading into the tram car. The doors were now closed and the display on the wall indicated that the tram was at the far end.

When they had first realized that Vronune was gone, Forrester had accessed his tracking device to get a fix on his location, it appeared that he had split off on the crew deck and taken the tram while the rest of them had ascended to the command level. His locator tag currently showed that he was 17km away to the west, which put him right in the main facility.

With nothing else to do, the party broke into the small control booth at the head of the tunnel and hit the call button to bring the tram car back to them. They knew they couldn't take the risk of walking through the tunnel on foot, and the submersible wouldn't be any better, they needed to get over there as soon as possible.

Within a few moments, the tram car arrived and the two doors slid open with a pleasant chime. Hetzer was the first one in, performing a perfunctory sweep with his SMG before sitting down on one of the padded benches and removing his helmet.

"Smells like someone shat in 'ere." he declared.

"No," said Fang, looking around warily. "It smells like someone died in here."

The group froze then and scanned the car more carefully, Hetzer included. He almost didn't register the tiny movement he noticed underneath the bench opposite him until it was too late. A small metal object, no larger than his forearm, shot out from the shadows under the bench straight for his face.

"Corrin' 'ell!" He shrieked as he batted it aside with his weapon. Jumping to his feet, he drew a bead on the object and tried to keep his hands from shaking.

The object came to rest a few meters away in the center of the floor, it was slicked chrome with a strange fluid quality, approximately the size and shape of a football but with a mass of wires extruding from one end varying in thickness from that of a human hair to an inch or more in diameter. It remained motionless for only and instant, then it seemed to shift unnaturally and the wires, acting as limbs of a sort, lifted it off the ground and launched it back at the group.

As it hurtled through the air, the solid metal of the casing seemed to split like an over-boiled egg and more questing steel tentacles emerged.

"HUAAGHH!" screamed Hetzer as he threw himself over backwards trying to avoid the flying metal squid. The entire party opened fire reflexively, most of them missed and simply tore holes in the center bulkhead of the car, but one of Tobey's well-aimed gyroc shots struck it dead center. The little explosive rocket detonated and the metal creature landed on the ground at Hetzer's feet, seeming to come apart on impact and settled into nothing more than a pile of featureless grey dust.

For a moment there was silence, then everyone was talking at once.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Cor, me ass 'urts!"

During the pandemonium, Shik grabbed Forrester's elbow and steered him away from the rest.

"I-know-this, could-be-precursor-tech. Nanotechnology, very-powerful, very-dangerous. Could-still-be-functioning. Self-repairing, might-come-back-together."

"Nanotechnology? Are you saying its some kind of ancient drone?" When Shik nodded Forrester looked pensively back at the pile of dust. "This must have something to do with the Baculum. Srekank comes here with a precursor device that's supposed to interface with nanotech, then we've got an accident or something and now we get attacked by a nanotech drone."

The rest of the party had fallen silent, listening to Forrester's musing, Doc' Merrill asked the question on every else's mind; "So, what do we do now?"

"We can't just leave this be. We need to get over to the main base and find out exactly what's going on. This is bigger than we knew, if this thing of Cyrus' can actually activate precursor nanotech we need to get it away from people like Srekank." He refrained from going into details about why that was so, but everyone knew, with the ability to control self-repairing and self-replicating machines, there wasn't a force in the galaxy that could stand up to him, he'd go from gangster to emperor in no time.

After a moment contemplating the implications, Forrester shook himself. "First things first, we need to get that off the tram," he said, pointing at the little pile of dust.

"I see a custodial closet out there, probably a vacuum in there," Tobey said.

While he went about collecting up the pile of dust, the rest of the party more thoroughly checked the car. They didn't find any more metal squids, but they did find some major blood splatters near the door of the second compartment. Doc' Merrill knelt down and checked it out.

"Arterial blood...a lot of it too. However got hit is almost certainly dead."

"What happened?" Asked Cassandra.

"Well, I'm not really a forensics guy, but if I had to guess I would say at least one person got cut up pretty bad. The spray patterns are more indicative of laceration and deep puncture wounds, rather than gunshots."

"Is it Human, or Svesh?" asked Fang.

"Definitely not Svesh, they have a much higher iron content to their blood, so it tends to look more orange than red. Might not be human but I couldn't say for certain without a biochemical analysis, which I don't feel like doing."

After they removed the remains of the alien drone, and satisfied themselves that there were no more in hiding, they settled in and sent the tram zooming back through the tunnel towards the main facility.

After a brief and uneventful tram ride, they slid to a halt and the doors whispered open onto the main tram station. The party spread out and checked for any hostiles. They were in a large room subdivided into several smaller sections by waist-high railings. One part was set up as a cafeteria with several tables an chairs, another was a waiting lounge with several low slung couches, the rest was mostly bare space leading to a large set of double doors. SmartDisplays on the walls indicated that there was some sort of security alert, no alarm sounded but everywhere around the room pulsed dull red warning lights. Beneath the warning lights scrolled emergency instructions; security personnel receive instructions from internal communication, all others proceed to emergency shelter areas.

They found no one in their sweep, but they did see evidence of a firefight. The walls ceiling, as well as the supporting columns scattered about the room were covered in pits and pockmarks from bullet impacts. There were also several blood splatters and trails around the room that could have been drag marks.

Fang knelt down and examined the splatters, his keen eyes detected a pattern to them invisible to the rest of the party. This had been a running battle, he followed the trail to the main double doors. He stepped through into the corridor beyond. He was in a long hallway stretching both left and right, the walls were bare metal. His ears swivelled on top of his head as he registered the sounds coming from off in the distance to his right; gunfire, shouting, explosions, battle. He sniffed the air tentatively and picked up a trace of what he was looking for, Svesh. He turned to the left and began to stride purposefully down the hall, the rest of the party following behind.

"What are these gouges on the wall?" asked Cassandra, eyeing several strange geometric patterns cut into the metal walls. The walls themselves were a dull gunmetal grey except within the centimeter deep cuts, there the metal took on a mirror-bright finish that was almost painful to look at.

"I'm not sure. The shape looks familiar though, but I can't quite place it," said Forrester.

"It-is-a-number-spiral," interjected Shik definitively.

"A what?" asked Tobey.

"Number-spiral, sequence-of-numbers-that-always-describe-perfect spiral."

Forrester snapped his fingers, "Yes, a Fibonacci pattern." He frowned, "What the hell is a Fibonacci pattern doing cut into the walls?"

"Weirdin' me out, nobody touch nuffing'" spat Hetzer.

Meanwhile, Fang had been steadily advancing down the corridor, the rest of the group rushed to catch up. As they rounded the L-junction at the end they all skidded to a stop. In front of them they found Vronune, lying face down on the ground. His left arm was gone just below the elbow and there were several obvious puncture wounds through his back. He lay in a small puddle of orange blood but the injuries appeared to have stopped bleeding, he seemed to be stone dead.

Tobey moved to go check the body, but Fang grasped his wrist. "No, look" he said, indicating with his snout the body.

Tobey looked again and saw what was troubling the alien, several areas around the dead Svesh's body appeared to be splattered with molten metal, the spots appeared to be simple specks of debris but he stepped back involuntarily as one of them shivered and expanded slightly as he watched.

Fang switched his visor on thermal imaging and examined the erstwhile corpse, the internal temperature of the body was almost 40 degrees Celsius, well above a Svesh body temperature. He switched on the millimeter-band radar and looked again, inside the unmoving body he saw strange returned, it looked for all the world like there was a partially formed metallic structure inside the body, much of the torso was being filled with a delicate lattice of some kind of metal and several smaller tendrils were beginning to extend down the arms and legs and up through the spinal column into the head. He froze an image and sent it to the rest of the team.

"Holy shit, what is going on! What is that stuff?" Demanded Tobey.

"Whatever it is, I think we should destroy it before it finishes whatever it's doing," said Forrester, the party stepped into a makeshift line and unleashed a volley of gunfire that reduced the former gang boss into a riddled lump of meat. Then Forrester stepped forward and tossed a pair of incendiary grenades on the body and watched as it was immolated by heat strong enough to convert part of the bare cement floor into a gaseous state.

They stood still for a moment and watched. Vronune had been an evil man, without question, and he had almost certainly betrayed them, maybe everything he had said to them had been an elaborate trap. But now he was dead, and what would have become of him if they hadn't happened across his remains when they had. Would he have stood back up, if he had, would that have been him, or something else?

Shaking his head to clear it of these macabre thoughts, Forrester turned back to the main corridor facing towards the sound of combat. "Let's go, we need to figure out what's happening over there. If Srekank is anywhere to be found, that's where he'll be."

The party fell into a rough tactical order and moved off down the long dark hallway, they passed a large cargo bay with stacks of supply crates and several stowed exo-loaders. The passageway widened and across from the entrance to the bay was a set of cargo doors, they padded up to the door and keyed the opening. The blast doors irised open and inside they saw a circular landing pad with a small, angular spacecraft perched up on dainty landing legs.

The pad was completely enclosed , there was a wide circular bay door at the apex of the ceiling and there was hydraulic machinery all along the sides.

"This must be the main point of entry," said Forrester. "The landing pad rises to the surface, the ship lands, then it comes back down." He turned and examined the ship, "I don't recognize that, but it looks like a yacht to me. I'll bet good money it belongs to our friend Srekank."

Hetzer and Shik approached the lower hull cautiously. The entry ramp was closed, they checked it for booby traps and when they were satisfied, they lowered the ramp and checked the internal console.

The Naismith MkIIIc is one of the most prestigious
and expensive luxury yachts in existence. Not only is it
very well-appointed, it also boasts a comprehensive
defense suite and incredible speed and cruising endurance

"It's on lockdown. Give us a bit an' we'll have 'er openin' up like a cheap floozy." Hetzer claimed. He and Shik put there heads together and began to rip open the small panel, they inserted a bewildering array of electrical leads and computer spikes into the internal wiring, all the while typing away madly at one of several computer pads they had between them. Finally, after some minutes, they began to close everything up and the entry hatch opened.

Inside they found a richly appointed personal transport that was a good deal warmer and drier than the base climate. The floors were covered in a strange fiber that shifted and turned underfoot much like sand would have, the bulkheads were swathed in loose, billowing fabric and all of the immensely luxurious furniture sat low to the ground. They inspected the entire ship, but found no one aboard.

"I think we can confirm who the owner is," said Tobey.

"Agreed, we need to lock this down, this ship might be the only other way of this planet. If we close off his escape route he'll have to deal with us." Forrester said, turning to look at Shik and Hetzer.

Done, this-is-done. We-have-changed-the-entry-code, and-introduced-a 32kbit-encryption-scheme." He held up his small computer pad, "without-the-algorithms-stored-here, no-one-will-get-aboard."

Forrester nodded and turned back to the main corridor. There was nothing else on the ship they needed, and they certainly weren't going anywhere before they got what they'd come for.  They resumed their movement towards the main base. The sounds of combat grew steadily louder until finally they found themselves standing at a large pressure lock. This was no doubt put in place as a safety measure in case either the tram or landing pad had been breached, they could be sealed off and the rest of the base would be safe from flooding.

Hetzer stepped forward gingerly and checked the control panel. "Base is in general lockdown, I'll 'afta break it to get the door open," he said as he get to work. The encryption was not nearly as sophisticated as on the little yacht in the landing bay and within seconds he stepped back and the doors rumbled open.

The party stood staring into the darkness beyond tensely. Finally, when they seemed to realize there was no immediate danger they relaxed. Cassandra and Tobey stepped forward to shine their handlights into the other corridor when a piercing shriek made them freeze in their tracks. Out of the shadows loped a creation out of all of their deepest nightmares. It might have once been human, but no longer, it sprinted towards them on unnaturally long legs that now bent back the wrong way and two arms tipped with two foot long metal claws reach out for them, the remnants of the poor mans hands still dangling from where they sprouted. From its back sprouted long thin tendrils of metal that wavered around like so many antennae, seeming to taste the air for evidence of prey to slaughter. The face was mercifully covered by a delicate lattice of wires and metal filigree, but when it's mouth opened a light shined through from inside that chilled something inside all of them.

Confronted with the monstrosity in its full malignant glory, both Tobey Cassandra simply froze in catatonic fright, but lucky for them the rest of the group reacted to their peril. Doc' Merrill's shotgun boomed out a devastating tattoo as the thumb-sized slugs punched straight through the creature for seemingly no effect. Forrester's SMG burped off a long burst and it burst through the dessicated flesh of the man-thing in some places, or raises puffs of evil-looking grey dust in others. The creature shrieked again in pain or anger non could tell. The banshee wail hammered at the very sanity of the party, it felt like their ears were bleeding, like they had broken glass in their eyes, but still they kept firing.

Tobey, finally reacting to their plight, dove to the side and tackled Cassandra out of the way. The onrushing creature flew directly over them, landing on the far side and skittering to a halt. It turned and lashed out with a tentacle, connecting with Forrester cleanly and sending him sprawling back to crash into the far wall, a spiderweb of cracks on his breastplate to attest to the massive strength of the abomination.

Hetzer knew what had to happen, a strange calmness overtook him. He dropped his SMG to the ground and casually reached down to his belt for the mono-wire grenade dangling there. He had the uncanny feeling that this moment was preordained, that it had been inevitable since long before he was born. He was merely a spectator as he watched himself flick off the first safety from the grenade with practiced ease. A momentary confusion furrowed his brow as he raised the explosive to throwing position and examined the creature as it leapt and dashed around. Then he smiled to himself as another of Doc' Merrill's shotgun blasts tore a small, grenade-sized hole in the exact center of the creatures torso. He reared back and closed his eyes. Thinking about his life as it had been before, and how it would be after occupied him for the eternities it took for his arm to slowly move forward, the grenade released at the exact instant at the center of the universe. He watched it as it languidly flowed through the air, spinning lazily.

Hetzer cocked his head to the side, he noticed that he no longer heard the cries of his companions, nor the report of their weapons, he couldn't even hear the horrifying screech of the monster. Instead he heard a single note. A perfect, pure tone of promise that was both comforting and awe-inspiring all at once. It rose from the depths of nothing to reach a single, angelic peak, then it fell again in perfect time and harmony. He decided that this sound must be the very voice of god, telling him that he belonged, that he was welcome, that he was loved.

Then, the grenade struck, it went right into the hole at the monster's center and stuck fast. His vision blackened around the edges as everything seemed to speed up at once. He fell to his feet, the sound of his helmet telemetry alarm blaring in his ears; raising and falling.

"FOOK ME, I 'IT IT!" he crowed in astonishment.

The horror seemed not to react at all to its impending demise as the timer in the grenade counted down from five. Instead it vaulted across the threshold and bowled into Tobey and Cassandra as they tried to flee. Both of the were knocked to the ground and the thing loomed over them.

Hetzer looked on, wracked by a sudden and inexplicable feeling that any other human would recognize as guilt as he realized he would be partly responsible for the death of his companions. He had little time to further examine this random attack of conscience as Cassandra, looking even more frail and innocent trapped beneath the menacing figure of the monstrosity, lifted her hands palms out and shouted at the top of her lungs. There was an audible crack as it seemed the very fabric of reality frayed, a filament of utter blackness extended from the center of the singularity and brushed against the creature. It flew back as if shot from a cannon and crashed into the far wall.

Mono-Wire Grenades are commonly banned from use
in interplanetary treaties because of the massive
tissue damage they inflict.

Just then the grenade went off and the abomination disappeared in a tremendous explosion. Nothing remained but a thin cloud of grey dust illuminated in the flickering overhead lights, slowly settling to the ground.

The party gathered around the girl as she tried to sit up. Great, shuddering sobs wracked her small body. The group of hardened mercenaries looked at each other in wide-eyed confusion as they realized that they didn't know how to react to a crying girl.

From around the corner, a small orange ball with a tiny green animal inside rolled out hesitantly. When it saw there was no imminent danger it rolled further in and collided with Cassandra's bowed head. The girl sat up with a start, then sighed in delight and gathered the little creature up in her arms and hugged it tight.

Session 5, part 2: Bringing down the Jamming Field

The interior of the cave was jagged and covered with an unusual pattern of tiny spines and straitions, perhaps analogous to coral. Once the party travelled a few meters in the narrow tunnel opened up slightly. They were still required to travel single file, but they could no longer reach out and touch both sides of the tunnel as they did.

The party continued deeper and deeper until finally they came to te first fork, one tunnel begin an ascent up and to the right, the other continuing down. They paused momentarily, Fang cycled his visor through several different modes.

"The water coming up from below is deeper, and there are slightly elevated radiation levels, not dangerous yet, but noticable."

Forrester considered this for a moment, "It's possible this tunnel is hooked into the coolant exhaust system for a fusion reactor. If so there should be a maintanence access hatch somewhere ahead of us. We should follow the heat downward."

"Let's just be careful not to get drawn in to the turbines, though. That'd ruin my day." Interjected Tobey.

"Turbines? I don't wanna go into a turbine." said Cassandra plaintively.

"Well, then you shoulda stayed back with yer corrin' brother 'ey."

Forrester was only half-listening to the banter as he drifted forward. Fang came up beside him and they both peered into the darkness ahead of them. Fang let out a low growl and Forrester involuntarily reached for his weapon.

Before they consciously realized what was happening, a massive shape came hurtling out of the darkness, they saw only parts of it illuminated by the beams of their handlights, its flesh was a semi-translucent white with patches of some kind of chitinous material. The entire party opened fire instantly, having distributed the supply of Gyroc weapons. The tiny rockets flew out to meet the massive creature as it lunged towards Forrester.

 

The Serradine world-ocean has not
been studied but it is known to
be home to a thriving ecosystem.

The first rounds began impacted on the monstrosity's body but Forrester could tell that it wouldn't stop the thing dead. He lunged to the side as fast as he could in the bulky environment suit. The creature barreled into him with the force of a small truck, but he had narrowly avoided the wicked sixty centimeter long barb that had been aimed at his chest. He looked on in horror as the vicious looking spine suddenly snapped open and revealed that it was actually some kind of beak or probiscis.

The attack was over as suddenly as it had begun, having taken a half dozen wounds from the gunfire, the creature simply reversed and fled back down the darkened tunnel in the blink of an eye.

"Is everyone alright?" asked Forrested, not entirely sure that he was alright. He paused to take stock of himself as the rest of the party responded; "No problems here," "We're fine," "WHAT THE CORRIN' FUCK WAS THAT!"

"Ok, we'll keep going, I think we hurt that thing, hopefully it will avoid us now." Forrester said, allowing Fang to take the lead.

As they continued down, they passed several more branches, always following the heat signature. Soon they found that the tunnels rock walls gave way to metal. They also began to detect a subtle current pushing against them, they were now in the cooling ring of a large fusion reactor. The exhaust pipe they found themselves in began to curve back upwards and as it approached the vertical, they saw the massive spinning blades of the turbine above them, along with the maintenance hatch about halfway up. Fighting the increasing pressure of the current, they filtered up into the main heat exchanger and clipped on to a railing around the access door. Hetzer settled in to break into the door but he soon found that it lacked all security features and he simply opened it. Inside was a small lock, big enough for two or three at a time.

Despite the many different engineering philosophies
throughout the galaxy, all fusion power plants must adhere to
certain basic design restrictions, like a robust cooling mechanism.

Hetzer and Tobey went in first to secure the interior. Once they cycled through they found themselves in an empty room crowded with pipes and conduits going off in every direction, they searched thoroughly and found no security measures except for a simple laser tripwire at the rooms only door and a broken surveillance camera in the corner. They called every else in and spread out to double-check the room.

As the rest of the party began to filter in, Hetzer went to the door, careful to avoid the laser tripwire, opened it and peeked his head out. He looked left intially and from behind him he heard a shout of alarm.

"Hey!"

Ducking back quickly, Hetzer flinched as several rounds spanged off the metal piping around the doorway. Thinking on his feet, Hetzer grabbed a grenade from his belt and, without arming it, tossed it around the corner into the hallway.

"FRAG OUT!" he shouted as he heard the small explosive bounce down the metal grated floor.

Kinassa Phase IV Security Armor is designed to
provide ballistic protection to critical areas
while remaining light and comfortable.

From out in the hall came a terrified shriek and the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. Hetzer chuckled to himself and rushed out as soon as he heard the man run back around the corner. He scooped up the grenade and decided he would keep this one for good luck. As he came around the corner he briefly locked eyes with his opponent, a rather timid looking man in stock light security armor, then shot him in the face.

The rest of the party fanned out and began to search the area, alert for any additional hostiles. They were on an elevated platform about five meters above the primary engineering section of a medium size power plant. In front of them rose an array of large metallic cylinders, fusing chambers for the Deuterium and Hydrogen fuel. ALong the walls were a myriad of other, unidentifiable support machines. To the left were several doors and a short hallway.  Forrester and Shik began examining the reactor itself. If this was providing power to the jamming field, then sabotaging the reactor might be the best way to disable it. Meanwhile, the rest of the team set up in positions to cover the only obvious entry points.

As Shik and Forrester descended the ladder to the base of the reactor room, Fang sounded the alarm.

"I hear something! Coming down the hall," he called out over the comm.



The Behrans-92F AMW (Anti-Material Weapon)
is a shoulder-fired electromagnetic accelerator
that fires a 7mm solid ferrous projectile
at speeds in excess of 6,000 mps.

Tobey settled the rifle butt tight into his shoulder, then he closed his eyes and slowly exhaled, allowing his entire body to relax. When he opened his eyes he saw the crosshairs of his scope pointing at the ground near the center of the short hallway. He adjusted his position so the crosshairs rested naturally about halfway up the wall near the inner corner of the corridor.

 Within seconds of this a group of five armed men came rushing around into view. Tobey exhaled again and as the last air left his lungs his sights settled on the midsection of the second man in the line. He depressed the trigger in one slow, smooth motion and absorbed the massive recoil easily, his point of aim barely shifting.

The hypervelocity slug sliced through the warm air of the reactor room and punched right through the light ballistic armor of the target. The hydrostatic shock inflicted by the strike was sufficient to cut the man in half without even slowly the round appreciably. The next three men were directly behind and the railgun shot struck each one of them in turn, killing four men in an instant.

The leader of the group slowed to a stop and turned to survey the carnage behind him. At that instant Fang leapt out of his concealing position and ran up to the man, delivering a precisely aimed blow to the base of the mans spine with his wristblade. The last of the security personnel dropped, dead before he hit the ground.

Fang and Hetzer bounded forward and cleared the hallway, around the L-junction at the end they found an open elevator. The party spread out and cleared the rest of the floor, finding nothing else but a machine shop and several storage areas, plus an emergency staircase leading up. Forrester and Shik clambered back up to join them.

"Alright, we rigged the place to blow, but the radio detonators won't work until we bring down the jamming field."

"Not-want-blow-up-reactor-anyway. Not-until-we-are-far-away, at-least." Added Shik indignantly.

Avoiding the elevator in favor the the staircase, the party began to methodically move up, clearing the station as it went. The second level was given over to crew spaces, they found a console and Hetzer tapped into it, finding that this was a secondary station connected to the main facility some 20km away by a single-car tram. They also learned that this outpost was manned by eight engineers and between four and six security/custodial staff. It appeared that they might have accounted for all the security personnel but they had yet to see any of the engineers.

Cassandra was with Tobey and Fang checking the dormitory when she let out a squeel.

"What!, What do you see?" Asked Tobey urgently, thinking she might have seen one of the missing crew.

"It's sp FLUFFY!" the young girl declared as she lifted up a small, orange plastic ball and snuggled it against her cheek. Inside was a little ball of green fur skittering around erratically and emitting tiny squeeks. Written on a piece of masking tape affixed to the ball was the creatures name "Mr. Future."

"What is that thing?" asked Tobey.

"Lunch," said Fang, with dire purpose.

"No, it's a Trill."

Everyone but Cassandra turned to Doc' Merrill as he strode into the dormitory.

"A Trill? how do you know that."

"My sister's kids had one as a pet a few years ago, they're great for kids because they don't really need much care, but you have to be careful how much they eat because they are self-inducing hermaphrodites, and the normal litter size is between ten and twenty.

"I love him!"

"Give me the morsel." demanded Fang.

Forrester came in then, saw the young girl and the little creature and wisely decided to refrain from comment. Instead he waved the group back towards the stairs.

"Let's get going, the sooner we get up to the command section the sooner we can leave."

The group moved up the stairs cautiously to the top level and they gathered around the closed door.

"Watch this, I'll get them corrin' bastards to hop, see if I don't." Hetzer whispered gleefully. He again removed his lucky grenade from its rightful place on his belt, slipped the heavy door open, and tossed the small device in as hard as he could.

"Fuckin' BOOM!" He shouted unnecessarily.

Much to his dismay, there was no reaction from inside. "Aww, nobody 'ome."

The party moved in and confirmed that, it appeared that the engineers had eluded them, perhaps they had been sent away on the tram as soon as the incursion had been detected.

"This-is-terminal-that-controls-jamming-field." sputtered Shik as he approached a large console occupying a central space in the small command section.

"Good, rip it open and bring it down," replied Forrester. "We need to move fast now, those technicians have probably already warned the main base."

"Not so sure that's going to be a problem," said Tobey absently. "Come take a look at this."

Everyone wandered over to join him at what appeared to be a communication console. On the display was a flickering tri-D image that was heavily distorted by still discernable as a man. The audio was even worse, a constant hash of noise with only occasional flashes of clarity.

"..Explosion...things...help...fucking..arrival...bad..."

"That sounds like trouble," deadpanned Merrill.

"Is that due to the EM field?" asked Forrester, indicating the interference.

"No way, look, its a hardline connection. This gear is good, mist be a problem with their equipment."

As they spoke the display cut out, replaced with a simple holding pattern.

Tobey cocked his head to check the readout, "Transmission terminated at the source," he said, tapping the error code with his finger.

"I-have-it," crowed Shik from behind them. They all turned to see him lifting up a non-descript looking piece of technology about the size of a human head.

"Is that the jamming module?" Asked Tobey.

"Yes-yes, very-advanced, very-valuable-as-salvage, we-take-it, split-evenly." The small alien practically vibrated with excitement. 

"Hey, where's the Svesh?" Asked Cassandra suddenly.

The party looked around and realized that they hadn't seen the cartel boss since the firefight on the bottom level.

"He must have betrayed us somehow. I will gut him and leave him to bleed to death for that," said Fang, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "After I eat the green morsel."