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[Digital Hellhound]

((You accepted me, RIGHT?))

Sam stared at the door. He had heard gunshots and screaming from the corridor behind it. He had no idea what was going on.
There had been an explosion, and the lights had gone off.
He stood up slowly and took a couple steps towards the door. Someone banged on the door, very franticly and quickly.
" Oh god, let me in, they're right behind me! Let me in, damnit!"
Sam pulled open the doors.
He realized seconds later it was possibly the worst mistake he had ever made.
The man who had been banging the doors collapsed inside.
" Hey, you okay?"
Sam knew the man wouldn't reply, seeing the aliens at the end of the hallway.
" Shit..."
He had nowhere to run, so he decided to play dead. Oh, why did I had to get sick just when we've got bloodthirsty aliens on board?

[Emperor_Jonathan]

James was idly lying on a couple of seats in communications, flicking through his PDA over and over again. A boom sounded, a few seconds later the ship shuddered, launching James off the seats. "Fuck! What the fuck was that." Looking over the monitors he saw, "Some fucking boarders." James had never heard the Sarge swear before. The marines held them back for a little before they were overcome and the aliens marched onward. One looked up at the camera, placing his hand on it and crushing it. They lost sight of where the aliens were for a long while. Communications were distinct, mostly comprising of, "We need more marines in Section...."

After a worried half hour the aliens reappeared on another screen. "FUCK THEY'RE IN THE SICK BAY." The sick bay was close, very close. James jumped up, checking his pistol. They could be coming soon. Sarge boomed to one lowly techie manning a microphone. "Get some fucking marines over here fucking now if you want to live. James! Stop fucking with your gun and get me some more fucking coffee!"

While James was getting coffee marines were running to and fro, urgency was on all their faces. The aliens got past the defenses in minutes. If communications went out, the defense against the alien menace could go out in a second. As James was walking into communications, going over to the Sarge, carrying a coffee in both hands he tripped over, spilling the coffee everywhere. James was ready to apologise but it was obvious everyone was too worried to care. The Sarge just stood their idly scratching his chin and staring at the monitors.

[WorkerDrone]

The Hanger bays shook.

Attention. All squadrons launch. Repeat. All Squadrons launch. Enemy Smallcraft inbound. Defensive pattern for engagment required. Hot spots include all fore Sensor Arrays, exposed weapon systems, and engines. All personel, clear the bay. Repeat. All personel clear the bay. Airlocks opening in thirty seconds. Twenty Nine. Twenty Eight.

Launch pads lowered themselves into vacume sealed airlocks, which proceded to close themselves. At the end of the countdown, each pilot was fitted snugly in their fighters, each on a seperated rack, just before release into the black, inky coldness of space.


Miranda Groves called in on her ComNet. "I'm reading Thirteen bogies. " There was some chatter before the squadron leader got his pilots under control. "Alright. Defensive pattern has been called. Act to engage only when they are in range. No chances. Don't engage without support. I don't want to lose anyone today, so stick close to the ship. No heroes." Miranda felt a mix of elation and fear. Finally her skills would be tested. But against what?

Exterior optics was a laughible thing in space. You had to be extremely close to be able to see anything in space that wasn't a planet or star...or an asteroid. Which would almost mean certain fatallity. But even so, she check at anyrate. The enemy fighters in question, not to clearly, looked like teal teardrops, with nodules on the side of its exterior. Weapons, perhaps? Miranda thought so.

She angled her Centaur in to engage once the order was given. She adjusted her target control and soon had locked on to one of the Teardrops. A pair of missiles from each ship streaked off toward the enemy...and exploded in volly. Miranda whooped. "Direct hits!"

The explosions we're extinguished almost instantly. And with it, though not as quickly, a green glare around the teardrops. They flared angrily, shruging off the explosions with little turbulance. Miranda looked on in horror. The teardrops swooped in, and lances of bright blue light streaked out rapidly at her Squadron. Kelly Andrew, her bunkmate, lit up in a bright orange halo before the coldness of space extinguished even that too, aswell as her life.

Captain Milo, who she had always thought was a nice guy, spluttered into another friend, Cory Leanders. Both went out in a bright explosion. The last thing she saw was a teal teardrop, much like the ones pouring down her cheeks. Those tears we're extinguished in an instant, as she met her fate.


"Getting hit out-"

"They have shields! Repeat! Shields!"

"Two on me! Need backup, need back-"

"Oh god! They got Leanders! Miranda too! Wheres the Captain?!"

Communication: Squadron 5, cut off.

[rickvoid]

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Gunshots. A familiar noise. Jeremy stopped creeping down the corridor, and held very still, waiting to hear more. He kept a loose two-handed grip on the ten mil as he strained his ears.

Thump, thump.
Clank, clank, clank.
Thump, thump, thump.
Clank-clank, clank-clank, clank-clank...

The sounds came from the end of the corridor. They seemed to get louder every-time they repeated. Who-ever was up ahead was taking a few shots at something, moving, and taking a few more. And they were coming his way.

Jeremy hesitated. He'd been ordered to report to Storage, but it sounded like someone who really knew how to use a gun was running from whoever they were taking shots at. Which suggested they were losing. Which suggested this whole mission was FUBAR. Which meant he was pretty much screwed no matter what he did.

It was an easy decision, in the end. If he didn't help, and they lost, who-ever they were shooting at was headed his way, and would probably kill him next. If he did help, he'd probably get killed. But if he helped, and lived, maybe he wouldn't have to move those friggen boxes anymore.

And hey. Maybe he'd be rescuing a sexy Marine chick. He'd heard they were crazy in the sack. Maybe she'd be appreciative...
A guy can dream, right?

[WorkerDrone]

Vextres had lost his prey. He quietly cursed himself, but his anger evaporated quickly once more targets presented themselves. Mostly lowly peons. A few had weapons. Some did not. Others, attempted to swing wildly with objects. All died. His shock cannon sputterd out more. He armoured boots clanged on the surface of the deck. He had finally cornered one of them.

"Maligh nek'a gen'oi Dre'ga. I'a Rl'wev A'nek ga'naz. Nek'a, du frek."  Vextres called out, tauntily. His voice crackled out of a exterior box collor, which fitted tightly around his neck between armoured plates.

[cowofdoom78963]

Ifrit arived back at storage.

"Hello? Is'a anyone here?" there was nobody but then the man from before came out from behind a box. "Why hello there Ifrit..." Ifrit looked in wonder. "where is everybody?" Ifrit asked. "THERES NO TIME FOR THAT! ALIENS HAVE INVADED THE SHIP!" "Wait mr... Ah what'sa your name again?"

"my name is ron"
"Ah yes! Mister ron! Why is there a neuropoison in'a the crate I delivered to the scientist in the armoury?"

"what a Nuerotoxin? On the ship? There is no way" ron said looking away from Ifrit.

"Ifrit!"
"yes?" Ifrit replied.
"We need to get back to the armoury, your friend could be in very much danger!"

"Ok lets go!" and ifrit quickly ran to the elevator. "but wait Ifrit! I need you to take this box here" And Ron points to a box. (Ugh why do I always have to carry all the crates?)

Ifrit and Ron went back on the elevator and went to the armoury.
"when we get to the armoury, you may not like what you see." ron said in the elevator.
Ifrit nodded but said nothing else.

The elevator landed in the armoury with a PSSSSSSSHHHHHH.

Ifrit droped the box then looked around for Paul, then he heard a smash, and then a yell! Ifrit and ron ran to the source of the disturbance. There was a monster holding paul up in the air! "Put the good doctor down you big'a brute!" Ifrit hollered! The monsters torso did a 360 degree turn, droped paul, and faced Ifrit and Ron. It struck a menacing pose and switched its cannon to great force mode and fired at ron! Ron was hit and his bones broke and he fell! "You alien'a skum! I wont let you get away with this!" Ifrit fired his gun at the alien and jumped behind a desk quickly inraged. The monster fired its cannon again but it had no effect becuase the desk was made of various alloys. The monster grunted in disatisfaction and rushed past Ifrit into the elevator and jetted up to who knows where.

Paul ran to Ifrit. "That was a close one..." he said. "What was that all about?" Ifrit asked.

"That bastard came in here and smashed all the beakers and test tubes, he destroyed my lifes work..." Paul Shook his fist, and then punched the ground in anger. "DAMNIT ALL MY WORK!" Paul punched the ground once more "ALL OF THE TIME I SPENT" Paul punched the floor again then broke into tears and collapsed.

"Get a hold of your self Paul!"
"This is'a no time for tears!" Ifrit yelled!
Paul regained his composure, "Your right Ifrit" and he wiped the tears from his face.

Ifrit pointed to the crate full of neurotoxic potions. "What have'a you learned about the poisions?"
Paul sniffled then almost laughed "Their not neurotoxins at all, just some anchient soda. There was some sort of fungus growing in it..."

Ifrit screamed "You mean you got'a me all worked up... OVER A CHILDS'SA DRINKING JUICE?"

"Indeed" Paul said as he pushed his glasses up. "Its a pretty common occourance with observations like these... to mistake something rotten for something poisionous."
As Paul continues to babble techno gibberish Ifrit looks over to rons dead broken body. (poor ron, he dident deserve a fate like this)

"Paul" Ifrit said
"whats wrong Ifrit?" Paul replied.
"we need to get to the sick bay."
And they got on the elevator.

[Pandarsenic]

"Shit, shit, shit..." Kurtis hissed. They were losing ships as fast as they could scramble them. "Where are the mounted turrets!?" Kurtis screamed into his communicator, panic seeping into his voice. He'd stared at Miranda Groves (and every other female pilot, to be fair) every time the fighters had done drills. Now she was dead, nothing more than a name with "KIA" next to it in 10-point font.

Kurtis Sewell, Crewman, slumped back in the chair he was strapped into as the reality of the situation hit him. They were outgunned, outshielded, outmatched. These aliens had every advantage over them. He was a lowly grunt worker - not even a grunt soldier - sitting strapped to a chair in the hangar of the wildly shaking ship. He stared at his screen blankly, interrupted only by the ship's periodic "galloping."

"What the fuck am I doing here?" he mumbled. "All I do is push a button over and over. If I get killed when this happens, who'll remember me? Everyone will remember Miranda Groves. She died a hero, fighting the alien menace. Who'll remember Kurtis Sewell, button pusher? Kurtis Sewell, Crewman, chose the order in which the pilots were sent to their deaths. And that's if we survive this at all...."

He trailed off as he heard some nearby technicians talking about alien borders. He patted his sidearm for reassu-

Fuck. It was in his room. On his nightstand, probably.

[Digital Hellhound]

Sam lied on the floor, staring at the sick bay floor. The aliens were walking around, stopping at some medical thing every once in a while.

Please go away, please go away, please go away...Oh shit, it's coming towards me.
The alien stopped at Sam's "body".
 What's going on?
He felt the alien's hand on his back. The ship shook again, throwing the alien off-balance.
It screeched something on their strange language and the aliens turned towards the door. Sam could hear footsteps from the corridor.
Yes! Humans! I'm not gonna die!
Gunshots!
Uhm...screams of the dying?
Damnit.
Sam took a quick look at the door. The aliens were gone. They had been replaced with human bodies.
Atleast they're gone...
Sam took a dead marine's pistol.
Guess I should be heading for...Communications. Or atleast find someone who could tell me what's going on.

[SombreChapaeu]

Regaining conciousness I peer around the room... where exactly am I? something about coffee... but why are the lights glowing red? it never did that before, hey a fridge!

"Ugh"

Groaning I open the fridge and see a sandwich in a bag, it looks a little old but I eat it anyway, the effects are instantanous, I throw up on the floor, lurch to the side and my vision doubles. Gotta get to sick bay... wasn't it deck 4?

"Sick bay sick bay sick bay."

Staggering I make it to the elevator pod and punch in the number.

[WorkerDrone]

Alert Klaxons sounded through out the ship.

Incoming objects. Alert. Incoming objects. All Marines are to report to Armoury Deck for tactical loadout. Squads Alpha through Omega are to report to their posts.

The message sounded again. The ship thudded as more pods slipped through the ships defenses, attaching themselves to the hull of the ship. A second ship appeared behind the first smaller ship.

The first ship, now in range, was battered by a series of cannon barrages. Depleted Uranium shells punched right through a shield. Armour was compacted and broken through in a matter of seconds, and the first ship was disabled. More fighters swooped in for a run on The Retribution.


James Ridley grinned ferally. "Thats the first blood boys!" He said into his ComNet. A torn and battered Teardrop barreled away from him, exploding several miles from his Centaur's position. "Now lets kill the rest of these bastards! Echo Squadron, tactical formation!" James swung his powerful fighter into formation with the rest of his Squadron.

They went fast and hard, flanking a surprised wing of Teardrops. Missiles softened up their shields, while shells from Nova Gatts tore right into armour. Several more Teardrops stopped dead in space, or just exploded after the pounding given to them.


"Wing 1 has taken heavy losses, but are regrouping. There coming in to refuel and rearm, so make it fast! Wing 2 has scored several kills, and will be coming in soon aswell. Bay 1, missiles are required. To Bay 2, shells need to be loaded out."

More orders we're called out throughout the hanger bays, outlooking from the 'Tower'. Several more Pilots we're soon scrambled, venturing out of the Air Lock.


Fleet Master Atver looked displeased with the loss of one of his Cruisers. This races vessel should have fallen already. And yet they still stood, filled with triumph at the destruction of the Radiance, and several of its Fighters.

Atver's pale reflection was even more obvious to him in the observation bay. The Quartz window always seemed to catch his scarred face terribly. Gray eyes glared out at the human ship, while his slit of a mouth formed a grim frown. "Break away from the 'overshade' of the Corona. We shall collect this vessel once the War Band has broken their defenses.


Staff Sergeant Bill Yeager held his Assault Rifle in a prone position. As soon as he saw the first Purple Armoured alien step out of its blue pod, he filled it with a clip. The thing dropped, its helmet cracked after pumping the thing with so much lead. His squad followed suit, firing into the pod as more aliens charged out.

The blockade his squad had set up was temporary at best, but the strong steel defenses the ship itself presented to them was more then enough to keep them safe from the sonic waves the aliens pumped at them. His second-in-command fired his 'boomstick' from the hip. alien slammed into the wall behind him, but its frontal armour plates protected him the blast.

The aliens spread out, and we're about to outflank them before they we're forced to pull back. James punched a button releasing a blastdoor labled Deck 5.

[Pandarsenic]

Kurtis stared at the display.
Alien ships were falling.
Alien ships were falling!
It's not hopeless! Here's for you, Captain Milo... doing what I can for your memory. Kurtis' fingers clacked against his touch screen.

[cowofdoom78963]

The elevator stoped in the sickbay

as it opened Ifrit and Paul were greated by a big battle between the marines and the aliens. The marines seemed to be losing and running away.

"come'a back here you cowards!" Ifrit yelled at them, but he was too late. They were escaping to some other place with the aliens following suit.

"Hey look over there!" said Paul and he pointed to some crates. There was an injured marine that coudent go on behind them. He was moaning in pain, probably because his bones had been broken like rons.

"Come on! Lets go help him before more aliens appear!" said Paul.
Ifrit replied, "No, were in'a too much danger as it is!"
"This is my command as your superior Ifrit! We cant let him die like this!"

Ifrit was touched and also had no choice, "ok..." He said begrudgingly.

The man was a burly fellow with a large beard soaked in blood. A eyepatch was draped over his eye and his body was twisted. He was coughing up blood all over the place.

They ran over to the man, "Who argh you...?" he said obviously irritated and in pain.
"Were here to save you!" said Paul.
"I DONT NEED YOUR HELP!" and he scooted away from them.
"Your'a gonna die if we dont help you!" Ifrit hollard.

"JUST LET ME DIE IN PEACE!" he screamed.

"We cant just let him die here!" said Paul. "We need to get him to the cryo pods!" Ifrit said. "We cant do much like'a this." he continued.
Restraining the man Ifrit and Paul dragged him into a cryo pod.

"now what?" said Paul reloading the mans rifle now in his possession.
Ifrit picked some ammo up off the ground and said "I dont know... mabey we should'a follow the battle?"

And they ran through the blastdoor.

[Emperor_Jonathan]

James was hanging on to every bit of information that came through communications. Until dreaded news came through;

"Second enemy ship sighted."
 
Finally, some good news came in.

"We hit the enemy ship."

This lifted everyones spirits a little, but the ship wasn't destroyed yet. James was sitting on the bench, fidgeting, biting his nails.

"The Enemy Ship is disabled."

A huge cheer went up, the noise was deafening. The aliens could be disabled, at least, we could live.

"Boarders are still coming in! They're running amok throughout the ship! We need more marines to repel them, heck anyone with a gun would do."

Even though one ship was disabled the other still sent out waves of boarders.

The situation, on one hand was looking up, one ship was disabled, but on the other hand more and more boarders were running amok. James was still depressed. He may die here, in this tin can.

There was no chance, to go back to surfing those endless waves.

[WorkerDrone]

Gaweir caught his breath next to a view port. After a few deep breaths he looked up, into the great black. He could sight two others ships, which took on many amazing curves. One of them was battered and was floating dejectedly. The other was still engaging The Retribution. He could also see several dog fights breaking out among fighters.

...And a great blue pod coming direct toward him. Gaweir jumped out of the way when a great crashing noise filled his ears. A tube with a hatch slowly drilled its way inside where Gaweir had been standing. He stood up and ducked passed the hatch. He turned a corner, and ran right into another alien.

Gaweir landed on his feet. He didn't have much time to think, with the alien point a rather large weapon at him. He rolled out of the way, and slid past the alien. Gaweir fired a few times at the alien while he ran, but he wasn't sure he did much damage. He could hear more aliens, from where he had just ventured. The alien was still chasing him, albeit slowly.

At some point Gaweir had lost him, but he had also gotten himself lost. "Still on Deck 3...I need something better then this 10mm. Maybe I can get a shotgun from the armoury." Gaweir breathed a sigh and climbed up a ladder.


Boarders, located in Deck 5. Boarders, located in Deck 3. Boarders, located in Deck 2.

[Pandarsenic]

"Kurtis Sewell!" a voice called out.
"Director, sir?" Kurtis called back.
"Get over here! Thompson, take his post!"
"Yes, sir!" "Sir!"

Kurtis unstrapped himself from his seat and approached the director. "I have an important task for you. Make sure all of our doors are properly sealed, then go to the armory and bring us a cart of guns."

"... Yes, sir," Kurtis replied, stupefied by the request. Sorry, Cap, sounds like the person who was supposed to remember you is going to get killed on a fool's errand.

"Go!"

"Yes, sir," he replied faintly, turning and heading to the elevator. He grabbed someone other crewman's pistol off his desk on the way out.