Previously on Dark Hope...
"Dammit, that means that someone's messing with the central core! We've got to get down there."
"Thats it? Board their most defended ship and begin firing on their own ships?"
"Basically," Clark said, looking at the controls. "Are you coming or not?" Clark said, turning around. As he turned around, he saw the twelve men, Oopenheimer, and Bray strapping theirselves in. Clark smiled, and the ship lurched forward.
"Prometheus Command, this is Clark. Requesting clearance of taking Foxtrot security to the Daikrenter."
"Prepping soliton cannon. Weapon is charged, locking onto enemy cruiser cluster. Five...four...three...two...one...mark."
Bray looked around nervously, something wasn't right. It wasn't the mysterious black panelling spreading throughout the floor, ceiling and walls. Was it? Suddenly the room was filled with distortions of light, coming out of the floor, the ceiling, the walls. six of the marines were dragged through the floor and ceiling, their screams telling of their gruesome fates. Two distortions came through each side of the wall, and one droped from the ceiling.
Above Clark, Bray and the now lone marine looked up at the inverted mass of flesh that was the other marine, hanging from some nerve cords. Shaking the fear of "what if's" the three readied their weapons and spread out through the core's circular chamber. The lone marine was unlucky to run into Shashint. The scream was cut short as the flesh-eating Praetor expanded his mandibles and ripped off the hapless marine's head. Clark and Bray came running, stopping at the other end of the chamber, each readying their weapons, staring with pools of malice towards the laughing monster, tensing for a fight. The marine head rolled across the floor in a tumbleweed like manner. The fates were set.
And now, the conclusion.
Oopenheimer looked over each console in the bridge, looking for a security feed to find his comrades, Clark and Bray. The three men only with a recently deceased team had boarded an invading Gasod craft, the Daikrenter, flagship of the alien armada. Succeeding in taking the bridge, the Praetor, Shashint, fled to the core of the ship in hopes of destroying it. Clark and Bray followed the Praetor into the core, leaving Oopenheimer on the bridge, who was now worried if his friends were alive. Finally, he found a security console, and fumbling over the controls, remembering his long forgotten special training, the colonel found the nerve feed for the core. Bringing up a display he saw that both of his friends were still alive, pointing their weapons at the creature that was the Praetor. Confident in the abilities of his comrades he set to work on another control panel, ensuring that no enemy reinforcements would come across the core or the bridge. “Decompress, or chill, decisions, decisions, decisions,” he sighed his he randomly hit one of the buttons.

--- In the Core ---

The creature reared its head in a battle roar that seemed to shake the circular chamber; a sheath of crackling light came from its gauntleted fist. Then it charged, mandibles dripping. Clark and Bray looked at each other, and then opened fire. Their bullets danced off of Shashint’s armor, dealing no visible damage as the unstoppable vehicle of destruction barreled forth. The two each dodged aside. The Praetor was only off balance for a second, this time charging at Bray with blade held high. Anticipating the down stroke of the instrument of death, Bray quickly spun to the opposite of the sword, bringing the butt of his gauss rifle into the side of his opponent. His was rewarded with a discomforted grunt and a quick counter, cutting a gash in his left arm. Trying to get a clear shot, Clark stood helpless, knowing that Bray would not last long against the fury of his foe. Again and again Bray dodged his oncoming doom, but each time he became more sluggish. Finally, he was too slow. The Praetor bowled into him, knocking the hapless terran flat of his back and pinning him. Shashint’s ruthless blade came high, stopped only by the desperate hold of Brey’s right arm. Clark was behind the beast in an instant, delivering a powerful blow to the alien’s head, only to be met with an angry growl. He was thrown back by a swipe of the Praetor’s unarmed hand. The vile creature looked back at his pitiful prey, maw wide open, eager for a feast, but he had made a mistake. In the delay that Clark brought, the Praetor released his grip on Bray’s left arm, allowing him to retrieve a small fist sized object that was now speeding for his open throat. Bray’s arm went elbow deep, ramming home his last frag grenade. Releasing his grip and withdrawing his arm, he was able to shove the stunned Praetor to the side, allowing him to roll away. “Fire in the hole!” screamed Bray. A second later a squelching blast came to the left, and a spray of a gooey substance came forth to shower the comrades. Exhausted, Bray sat himself up against a wall laughing, “Indigestion?”
Clark and Bray began laughing, as Bray wiped the Praetor off his suit. He grimmaced in pain.
"Oopenheimer, it's Clark," Clark said over the radio.
"You're alive? Good job!" Oopenheimer said, pressing buttons.
"Well, what do we do now?" Bray said.
"Much of the sublevels have been decompressed. Few more minutes and you guys would be dead. I'm going to try and teleport you back. Oopenheimer out," Oopenheimer said.
"Roger that," Clark said, and picked up his P90. He was teleported back to the command deck.
"So Oopenheimer, whats going on?" Clark said. Oopenheimer was silent, and pointed out the command deck's window. Much of the surviving Terran fleet was there.
"Thats quite the kick in the teeth they've got there..." Clark said. He picked up his radio. "This is Colonel Ryan Clark. Do not shoot, the ship is under our control, I repeat, the ship is under Terran control,"
"Roger that Colonel. We're going to tow you to Omega. Prepare for rapid acceleration,"
"Rapid acceleration?" was all Clark managed to say, as he flew back when the ship entered hyperspace. Just as he got up, the ship came to a stop, and he went flying forward. The ship began its descent to the surface.

Originally Posted By NinjaCombatAce

--- Weeks later ---

"Colonel, we've managed to decode so much interesting stuff," a scientist said. His nametag said his name was Walter Cook, a senior scientist working on the Daikrenter data core.
"Amazing. What'd you find?" Colonel Clark said, tossing a part of the ship, playing catch with himself.
"Please don't do that, sir," Cook said. Colonel Clark stopped, the shippart shattering on the ground. Cook frowned. "We've found many Gasod bases, strongholds, battleplans, and a few worrisome things,"
"Worrisome?" Clark asked.
"They plan on taking Omega next. We also found mention of a research facility in a corner of the universe. It said something about the Bay-Le project. It was mysteriously shut down after many scientists were found missing. Its quite puzzling. We have the planets coordinates."
"Is this worth checking out?" Clark asked.
"I would say so," Cook said. "Tell me what you find?"
"Won't have to. You're coming," Clark said.
---
The X530 Equinox class cruiser bursted out of hyperspace, its weapons at the ready. After five minutes of nothing being fired at them, they deemed the sector all clear. In the combat bay, Colonel Clark was prepping a unit of fourty men, who would go down on the planet with him, Oopenheimer, newly promoted Lieutennant Bray, and Dr. Cook's science team.
"Okay, here's the breakdown. This lab is supposedly abandonned, so we're not expecting much resistance. Alpha unit, led by Lieutennant Bray is out on security detail, while Bravo unit will be protecting Dr. Cook's team with me and Oopenheimer. Lock and load," Clark said. The troops loaded up on the three Mk12 troop transports and descended towards the surface. There was only one structure, but it took up almost a quarter of the land mass of the planet.
"I'd check that out if I were you," Clark said to the pilot.
After landing, Alpha squad set up a perimeter, as the scientist team arrived in the central nerve center. Clark led the way, his P90 at the ready. A shadow was on the wall, and its head resembled a Gasod High Scientist. Clark rounded the corner, but found a dead Gasod, its body mutilated, hanging infront of a light.
"All units, listen up. We've reached the core, but we've found a few mutilated Gasod. Whatever did this, has some large claws, sharp teeth, and a hatred for Gasod. I wouln't want to stay and chat if I ran into this thing. Bray, keep alert," Clark said.
"Roger that, sir," Bray said over the radio. Cook and his scientist team set up, and began interfacing the nerve core with Terran computers. Oopenheimer was translating for them.
"Holy shit..." Oopenheimer said.
"What?" Bray, Clark, and Cook said in unison.
"That thing that got that Gasod? It was a Gasod," Oopenheimer said, his eyes not leaving the screen.
"What?! Was?!" Clark said.
"It was genetically altered. Some sort of super soldier. In Gasod, thats a Bay-Le. This thing runs faster, jumps higher, is stronger, and generally more deadly then any other Gasod. There was only one, and it killed much of the scientist team the Gasod had here. They reccomended closing the project down, after is flooded the entire bottom level. It seems to deflect plasma projectiles, and can use telekinesis and the likes. They continued experimenting, until it managed to activate the weapons system, and destroy the Gasod fleet orbitting the planet. This thing might not be killable..." Oopenheimer said, taking a deep breath.
"Damnit. All units listen up, we have a super Gasod out here. Stay ale-" Clark was cut off by a loud scream.

Originally Posted By NinjaCombatAce

The now lieutenant Bray gripped his TRG-15 (gauss sub-machinegun) tightly. The appeal of a super-Gasod running rampant in the facility was not very comfortable. Bray had his scouts report back, expecting at least one not to return. The one that didn't, fortunately, was scouting the very fringes of the perimeter he had planned to set up. In the back of his mind, he kept on thinking, Hey, I saw this in a movie once! This is where everybody gets killed, one by one in the most horrible and excruciatingly painful deaths. Shaking the thoughts from his head he consulted a layout of the station, looking for some open area where numbers could prevail over a juggernaut. There was one about a half of a kilometer ahead, but there were many twists and turns in the way. Already feeling watched, Bray started the long march to sanctuary.

--- In The Core ---

Oopenheimer paced back and forth, M249 held tensely. The colonels already had the men deployed in a tight perimeter making sure that anything not friendly would come under fire in an instant. Clark tried to lighten the mood. "Know what’s one of my most hated clichés?" he said half heartedly.
"What?"
"When someone see something, and a guy starts firing madly, and everyone starts screaming and firing."
"Not fu..."
The room was filled with the sound of screaming and gun fire, but quickly subsided. A bewildered marine crouched back, "This time I swear I saw something! Honest! That corner looked like it was moving!"
"Relax," called Cook over his shoulder, "I've managed to reactivate some of the sensors around the area. If anything comes close, I'll let you know."
"Anyway, what are you doing now, you've been on that computer for a while." asked Oopenheimer.
"I'm accessing the Daikrenter's most recent archive, most likely a flagship has virtually everything you want to know. Maybe I can learn more about the Bay Le."
"OK," sighed Clark, doubting Cook would find anything.
A few tense moments pass.
"Well here's something," mumbled Cook.
"What," said the colonels simultaneously.
"Survivor log, subject scientist of Rak' Norosh facility, that's here. Looks like he's the lone survivor."
All three of them leaned over the screen, looking over the log.

Inquisitor Nelza'ak's log cycle 15536.402K
Subject: Only survivor of the Rak' Norosh
Subject refused to answer questions coherently, but only give a small hint of what happened. Relavent quotes follow.
"It knows, yes it knows, the darkness, it creeps, it sees. Must not close eyes lest it find me. It becomes strong, yes it has, the darkness it hungers, its fury blinds its thoughts with hunger. NO, must be awake, keep the darkness away. We had warriors, yes we did, but the darkness kills it! It kills it! It destroys, rips, tears and grinds! Then it feasts! Only the light bringer stops it, must find the light bringer! It's bars protect me yes it does. The darkness hates the light bringer it does! Glow ! The glow of the light bringer I must have it!"
Subject became hysterical. Termination of subject resulted .37 cycles from interrogation initiation.

"Well that was real helpful," mumbled Clark.
"Actually it was," replied Cook. He pushed a few buttons on the computer and brought up what looked like a Gasod inventory.
"What are you thinking," asked Oopenheimer.
"That scientist might have been a raving lunatic, but he couldn't have been more helpful. He refers to the light bringer as the only weakness the Bay Le has, and that this 'light bringer' comes in bars. Fortunately, I know just what he was talking about," rambled Cook.
"And?"
"Well, a common material found in research stations is a substance know to the Gasod as Gaznilok. Its used as a catalyst for experiments be being shot into substances. This material happens to fit the bill, and there seems to be a wealth of it in this station."
"So what do we do with it," asked Clark impatiently. Cook shrugged. "Well I guess it acts as a repellent."
"Is there any near us or Bray?" asked Oopenheimer.
After a few more seconds of searching, Cook replied, "well, there is a storage chamber full of the stuff near Bray, but... oooo, its got injector guns for the rods too in that room. However, we aren't near any Gaznilok storage areas. I wouldn't wander out of the core."
"Right," said Clark. Turning on his radio, he said, "Lt. Bray, this Clark, we may have found a weakness to this Bay Le. There is a storage area that has a bar-like material that the Bay Le fears, and according to Cook they may be used as projectiles." Clark replied to in more screams.

Originally Posted By C480053

"How'm I supposed to use this Gastra thing?! Toss it at it?!" Bray screamed. "This thing, the bullets...stop. They don't go through him. Its not like the Praetors shield. Holy shit, he just ripped Sergeant Malarky's chest into pieces. Holy shit. KEEP FIRING!" Bray's radio cut to gunfire and screams.
"Damnit," Clark said. He walked to a weapons crate, and pulled out an RGB6 grenade launcher. He slung it over his back. "Oopenheimer, come with me. Bring the M249." Oopenheimer obeyed, and walked next to Clark.
"You...can't be kidding! You said yourself that it isn't safe to leave the core! You'll be massacred! I'll be massacred!" Dr. Cook said. Clark looked at the weapons crate and tossed Dr. Cook a M8EP handgun. "I've never fired a gun in my life!" Dr. Cook screamed.
"Well learn to fire one, damnit," Oopenheimer said. With that, the two Colonels ran towards Bray.
"Bray, whats your status?" Clark said, over the radio. There was no response. "Bray, whats going on?" Clark said, trying again.
"Damnit Bray, answer," Oopenheimer screamed.
"This is Bray, there aren't too many of us left. The thing, I think we got it. Its like, he was looking at us, and he got shot from behind. Oh god! Here it comes! Detonate the C4! Claymores! Use your hand gre-" the radio cut into silence. Clark and Oopenheimer heard screams and gunfire coming from a room ahead of them. They looked at each other, and ran. Clark had his P90 at the ready, as Oopenheimer kicked down the door. The Bay-Le had Bray pinned down against the end of the corridor.
Clark fired his P90, hitting the Bay-Le's arm. It turned around, claws fully out. Bray got up, firing his TRG15. The Bay-Le turned around again. This was Clark and Oopenheimer's chance.
"GET DOWN!" Clark screamed. He took out his RGB6. In unison, Clark and Oopenheimer fired their RGB6 and M249. The creature was torn into pieces, but escaped up, into a vent.
"Son of a bitch!" Clark screamed, and helped Bray up.
"You okay?" Oopenheimer said.
"Just a few broken ribs, a few cuts. Can't say the rest about the others. Some got thrown into walls. And some got shredded.
"Can you walk?" Clark asked.
"Yeah, definetly. Just a few broken ribs.."
"OH GOD! OH GOD!" Dr. Cook screamed on the radio. "I can't kill it! I can't kill it! Someone please help! Please! Help me! Aaaagh!"
"Oh shit," Oopenheimer said, and the three ran back to the core.
"Bravo squad, Bravo squad, do you read me?" Clark said, as they raced across the facility.
"This is Bravo squad, we're all intact sir. The thing just ran by us. Its like it wanted to get to the central nerve,"
"I see..." Oopenheimer said.
"What is it?" Clark screamed.
"It wanted to delete all records of what happened. But its been backed up..." Oopenheimer said, as they got to the door. They heard a gun firing. The door opened automatically, and the three ran in, weapons at the ready.
Dr. Cook was firing his M8EP, but missing every shot.
"You're supposed to aim the goddamn thing at it!" Clark screamed. But it was too late. The Bay-Le impaled Dr. Cook with its claws and shoved him against a wall. It began ripping it to pieces with its fangs, its back turned towards the three.
"Hope this works," Clark said as the three waged a small war against the Bay-Le. It was ripped to tiny shreds, and fell back. Dr. Cook's remains slid down the wall, leaving a trail of blood.
Clark held his RGB6 down, aiming at the Bay-Le's remains. Much of it was missing.
"All security teams, this is Clark. Bay-Le is accounted for, and it is dead. Equinox, get those dropships down here for extraction," Clark said over the radio. He glanced over at Dr. Cook's body and his laptop. He picked the laptop up, and put it in his backpack.

Originally Posted By NinjaCombatAce

Weeks had passed since the Bay-Le incident. Colonel Clark learned that some members of the Prometheus had survived, including the Security Commander Alex Solomon. Clark noticed that he had been acting strange, going out for days, coming back with mud from the north on his clothes. So one day, Clark decided to follow him, staying out of sight. Solomon made his way to Prominence Tower, the tallest building on Omega.
Solomon walked into the elevator, and pressed the top floor button. Clark got into the elevator parallel to Solomon's, and hit the top floor button after the first left. Clark walked out of the elevator, and saw a suitcase in the middle of the room.
"The hell..." Clark said, looking at the heavy, reflective surface. He walked towards it and opened it up. There was a mass of plutonium, behind a protective screen, and a time. "My god..." Clark said. He took out his radio from his jacket. "This is Colonel Ryan Clark. There is a nuclear warhead in Prominence Tower, I repeat, a nuke in Prom-" and he was cut off. He was knocked forward by Solomon, who was waiting.
"What are you doing?!" Clark screamed. His question was answered by swift punches. Clark grabbed Solomon's arm, and flipped him onto his back. Clark tried to pull out his Beretta 357, but Solomon grabbed his leg, flipping him. The 357 was sent across the room. Solomon kicked Clark on the ground. Clark got up, shaking. His radio went off.
"Clark, this is Oopenheimer. Bray is with me. We're coming up now!"
Clark stood there, trying to get a hold of what he was doing.
"You're defecting?" he asked.
"No! I'm living out my patriotic duties!" Solomon responded, bashing Clark over the head with a chair.Clark reached out for the Beretta 357, but Solomon smashed a second chair over his head. He tossed a third chair out a window, as a dropship opened up outside. Solomon picked Clark up, and put him over his shoulders, and walked to the dropship.
Oopenheimer and Bray rushed out of the elevator.
"Freeze!" they both said, Bray's SP22 and Oopenheimer's Beretta M9 aimed at Solomon. He didn't respond, putting Clark's unconscious body in the dropship. The two opened fire, but it was too late. The dropship closed up, and Clark was taken prisoner. Oopenheimer ran to the suitcase, and began fiddling with the detonator. He managed to shut it down, with moments left.
---Somewhere on Omega---
Clark's vision was black. He could feel he was hanging from his hands, but couldn't see anything. He figured he had a bag over his head. He took a deep breath. Clark coughed, figuring he had some broken ribs. The bag on top of him was removed, and aimed at his face was a M44 pistol. The operator pistol whipped Clark a few times, sending blood down his face.

Originally Posted By NinjaCombatAce

12 sleepless hours had passed after Clark's kidnapping. Oopenheimer and Bray waited inside the intelligence center, eager for any news. Finally, a hardened man who looked like he knew the ways of the world, but had the youth to act, stepped out of the room. "Bray, Oopenheimer?" he asked curtly, in a commanding voice.
"Yes sir, that's us," replied Bray, eager for news.
"Major Grimsfeld of the Omega Security Force," the other said, holding out his hand, "we traced the transport to a deserted area 50 clicks up spin to the north. Satellite imagery managed to pick up some sort of underground structure. Where ever your friend is, I'd bet my ass that he's there."
"What about who took him?"
"I'll brief you enroute, report down to the quartermaster, you have 0015 hours to suit up."
"Thank you major," said colonel Oopenheimer, a bit intimidated by the lesser ranking officer's commanding aura.

--- Unknown Location ---

Another slap pounding into Clark's swelling cheek. He spit the blood back at his captors defiantly. He had been resolute, not to give in. Over the hours he had learned that Solomon was part of a rebel group called the Silent Hands of Truth, dedicated to ending the "corruption" of the Terran League, and of course, they wanted him to join, bombarding him with hours of made-up doctrine, always praising some mysterious leader, always in the shadows. Clark figured that no one knew who the leader was. Solomon came back in. "Well, still stubborn, and still in pain I see, said the traitor, slightly amused."
Clark spat back, "you do know there's a war going on right?"
"The war is no concern of ours," replied Solomon, nonchalantly, "the Gasod will see our righteous course of SHoT and stay their hands."
"Stupid. Dogmatic. Fool." Clark was greeted by another slap.
"How about we cut off one of your ears?"
"Go ahead, I have two."
Solomon turned away, frustrated

--- To the infiltration team ---

"You sure these things will work?" asked Bray dubiously, looking at Grimsfeld and the five other special forces.
"Yup, finest the Gasod reverse engineering program has to offer, “smiled Grimsfeld, "don't worry; we'll be back in no time."

The troop carriers dropped the eight infiltrators a mile away from the underground base. Fifteen minutes later they reached the base, and Grimsfeld and his team suddenly turned into nothingness. Hope this works, mumbled Oopenheimer, engaging his own cloak. The helmets they wore allowed them to see in the dark, and the other teammates, but Grimsfeld was missing. "Where's Grimsfeld?" asked Bray, worried.
"Oh, he went up ahead like he always does," replied a commando cheerfully.
"Like he always does?" echoed Bray.
"The Major lives for the field, nothing can touch him, practically just ghosts and shadows to the enemy till its too late."
Bray could now see Grimsfeld trotting back to the team, smiling. "They left the door open."
Moments later, Bray and Oopenheimer could see what Grimsfeld really meant. All around them they could see at least half a dozen dead or unconscious guards scattered around the area of the entrance. No alarm had been sounded.

Originally Posted By C480053

The eightman team ran through the base, Grimsfeld, carrying his SR90SD/Mod5 Sniper Rifle, leading. They heard screams of pain coming from one of the rooms. They searched each room, finding noone.
"Damnit," Oopenheimer said, after the sixth room revealed noone.

---Inside the room---
"I don't think he's going to talk..." one of the men said.
"He's expended his usefullness," Solomon said, pulling out an M44 and aiming it at his face. Clark spit at Solomon. His defiance was greeted by a kick to the chest.


---The infiltrators---
"Last room. He has to be in here...if he already isn't dead," Grimsfeld said. The infiltrators bashed down the door, running in.

---Inside the room---

Clark saw the door fall down, and swung back, kicking Solomon. The force caused Solomon to misaim and pull the trigger, hitting Clark in the right eye. He screamed in pain. He swung again, kicking the gun out of Solomon's hand.
The eight men came in from the shadows. Solomon pulled out his second M44 and started firing wildly. He was met with SR90SD/Mod5 ammunition to his chest.
"Clear!" Bray said.
"Clear!" Oopenheimer said.
"Clear!" Grimsfeld said.
Clark was cut down from the rope. He was delirious, from the blood loss.
"Can you hear me Clark?" the medic said.
"Wha...t?" Clark replied, groggy.
"Your cornea has been burned from the gunshot. I don't think you'll be able to see out of that eye again. In the mean time, you can put this on," the medic said, giving Clark an eyepatch over his right eye.
"Don't I get one of those cloaks?" he said, sitting up.
"We only had eight. You'll have to make due," Grimsfeld said, already out the door. Clark walked, picking up an M44 pistol. He stopped at a loading dock, filled with containers.
"Bray? Oopenheimer?" he said, looking around. Out of nowhere, soldiers jumped down, surrounding him. He looked around, thinking to himself that he had no chance of escape. He ran forward, staying low, grabbing a GLA32 assault rifle, spinning it in the guards hands, so the rifle butt hit the guard in the jaw, knocking him down. He spun the rifle again, as the guard was falling down. He fired the guns 50 round clip over his head, hitting several of the guards in the chest. He proceded to do a backflip, as a guard charged at him. He grabbed the guards head, and flipped him to the ground. A loud crack broke the silence. Clark kicked the a guard into a container. The last guard dropped his weapon, and was shaking his hands. Clark ran, grabbed his neck, put his thumb on his trachea, and crushed his neck. The body went limp, and he dropped it, brushing the dust off.
"Clark! Are you okay!" Oopenheimer said, decloaking. "We got here as fast as we could! You got seperated from us!"
"You were cloaked, damnit," Clark said. Oopenheimer looked at the carnage.
"You...crushed a mans neck with your thumb...and tossed a man into a container..." Oopenheimer said.
"Where'd you go?" Clark asked.
"HQ radioed in an urgent message," Bray said.
"Whats that?" Clark asked.
"The Gasod are here," Oopenheimer said.

Originally Posted By NinjaCombatAce

The rescuers quickly fought their way out of the SHoT base, and were quickly scrambled into their transports. The coming of a new foe, sending adrenaline into every man's soul. After a few moments, Grimsfeld got off the comm, smiling. "We got 'em pinpointed in the shadow of one of our moons. They think that we don't know they are here. I'm sure our ODP's will tell them differently." As Grimsfeld finished his comment, the night sky was lit up with shooting stars of destruction, splashing against dark shapes in the sky. At first the shapes seemed to scatter in all directions, but then unified into a bloated mass of darkness, sending forth their own lights. "Will they make it past the defense stations?" asked Bray.
"Well, a number of the lighter craft might slip past, then the AA batteries will go to work, but I wouldn't say our defense of the sky is airtight."
"So they'll brerak through?" asked Oopenheimer.
"It will take some time, but when they do, we're gonna give their ground forces a screwing they'll never forget."

--- 2 hours later ---

"Alright men! There they are! Let's lay it on them!"
"Load one 60 auto, mark!"
"They're pouring out of that wreckage!"
"Hah! Gasod spacecraft were meant to be grounded!"

The four men were now charging the wreckage of a downed Gasod transport. In the two hours that the defense systems of Omega had given them, they had equipped themselves with the finest weapons that the Omega Security Force had to offer. Clark got his eye cleaned and looked at, but still wore an eyepatch. All were in black field fatigues, excellent for night fights, and their favorite weapons. Clark had his P90and an MGL (grenade launcher), Oopenheimer got the privilage of spiriting off an experimental energy rifle along with a OSS pistol as a side arm, and Bray again had a high yeild gauss rifle and an MP5A5. Grimsfeld still had his sniper rifle, but now had two SMG's strapped to his waist. Each had an elite fireteam of five men at their command.

Barreling into the shaken, surviving Gasod, they wasted no ammo on the hapless invaders, bashing them in the head with the butts of their weapons and sliting their throats, christening the battleground with the blood of the fallen. Flares lit the sky as even more dropships streaked towards the surface, most on fire. The four noted that some ships had blue lights coming off from them, zigging and zagging independantly. "Jump packs!" screamed Oopenheimer, recognizing the familar sound of the rush of air.

The new attackers came from above, taking one soldier under Clark's command by surprise. The poor commando was reduced to a burning corpse. Grimsfeld whipped up his sniper rifle and in a single motion planted a bullet in two of their heads. Clark herded another into slamming through a wall with fire from his P90, sending the alien hurtling to his doom. Bray and Oopenheimer played with the last one, decapitating it limb from limb with their rifles. Most of the blue streaks seemed to be headed off into another part of the city. "Where are they headed?" screamed Oopenheimer.
"Power plant, three blocks away! Let's go, the garrison there will need some back up!" replied Grimsfeld. The platoon rushed towards battle and the hopes of victory.

Originally Posted By C480053

The men reached the powerplant's exterior. Inside, it was dark, despite it being a powerplant.
"Alright. Flashlights and NVGs people," Clark said, putting an ANV33 Nightvision unit.
"Sir, if this is a powerplant...why aren't there any lights?" Bray said, his AMP5 flashlight on.
"Thats because the EMP the Gasod are using damaged all the lights. I'm surprised the generators are still working," Oopenheimer said over the hum of the generators.
"I see," Bray said, opening the door. Instantly, his rifle was at the ready. Next was Grimsfeld, with a thermal scope on his SR90SD Mod. 5. Oopenheimer was after Grimsfeld, holding the prototype energy weapon. The platoon of men were next, equipped with Mk19 shotguns equipped with flashlights, AMP4/5 rifles, and M44 pistols. Last was Clark, his P90 at the ready.
"Get to the generator room first, make sure its secure," Clark said over the radio. The platoon walked slowly, the flashlights dancing around them. Colonel Clark was holding the rear end of the troops. So far, there had been no ecounters. Clark stopped, bringing his P90 up to his eyes.
"I'll be back with you guys in a bit," Clark whispered on his radio, tapping two men to follow him. They walked to a few containers that were stacked high.
"Sir, what are we looking for?" the first soldier said.
"I saw something move. Wheres Smith?" Clark said, looking around. The first soldier turned a corner, and saw Private Smith's body impaled on one of the containers.
"Sir, I found Smi-" was all the first soldier was able to say. Clark turned towards where he was, and ran. He turned the corner, and saw the soldiers body crumpled on the floor. Clark looked around nervously. He was unaware of the Gasod that jumped down behind him. Clark turned around, and right behind him was a High Templar Gasod. It swung at Clark, sending him a few feet back, knocking his P90 and MGL off him. The High Templar's retractable arm blades came out of their sheath, and it charged at Clark. Clark leaned to the side, grabbing one of the blades, ripping it off the Gasod. The Gasod tripped, as Clark swung the blade.
The Gasod got up, and grunted heavily.
"Human!" it said. "Why must you run from your destiny of being one of us!" Clark answered this with a swing of the blade. A sword fight began, Clark blocking the Gasod's arm. The Gasod kept swinging, and Clark tripped over one of the dead soldier's legs. The Gasod prepared to impale Clark, but he rolled over, while swinging the blade. It slashed the Gasod's leg. Clark got up, and went on the offensive. He proceded to kick the Gasod over, and impaled it.

---The rest of the squad makes it to the generator room--
"Damnit! They're everywhere!" Bray said, firing his AMP5 everwhere. The fireteam had been pinned down on the first floor of the generator room, on a platform above the generators. A Gasod landed behind a soldier. The soldier turned around, and grabbed him, as the Gasod pushed him into the generator.
"Where the hell is Clark!?!" Oopenheimer said, firing the pulse cannon, ripping multiple Gasod's into pieces. The fighting went on for twenty minutes.
"Sir, much of us are out of ammo," one of the soldiers said. Grimsfeld fired his SR90SD Mod.5.
"Aaagh!" Oopenheimer said as the pulse cannon caught fire. He dropped it into the generator. "Okay, okay. Drop your weapons. We lost this one," he said. The men obeyed, putting their weapons down, and putting their hands in the air. The eighteen remaining Gasod walked forward, aiming their plasma rifles at them.

---Meanwhile, Clark gets his gear back, and tries to find the team--
"Damnit," he muttered, running up stairs.

---The Gasod continue approaching the disarmed platoon---
"Sorry guys," Oopenheimer said.
"Don't you always fight to the end?" one of the soldiers said.
"We had more ammo when we did," Bray said
"Where the hell are you," Grimsfeld said.
Grenades fell from the sky, killing multiple Gasods. The approaching Gasod aimed up, and fired their plasma rifles. Oopenheimer looked up, seeing the muzzle flash of a P90.

--Airborn...--
Clark jumped off the railing, doing a cartwheel in the air, the weapons he was firing keeping him in the air. He looked down, firing all eight of the MGL grenades, killing many of the Gasod. His P90 took out more. Clark landed, kicking a Gasod in the face. Oopenheimer fired a shot at Clark, hitting the Gasod behind him.
"Nice shot," Clark said.

Originally Posted By NinjaCombat Ace

The break in combat was short-lived as a roar of fury from the other end of the room. A Gasod lowered its head in a blinding charge, wielding to short energy swords, its armor black as death. Two more came behind it, firing plasma rifles as they went. Caught flat footed, the commandos had little or no time to dodge. Most of them were able to find cover behind the massive turbine casings coming out of the floor, but one marine's face became a textbook case for plasma burns, while another had his entrails fall to the floor by the killing blades to the berserking Gasod. Clark and Oopenheimer opened up with their weapons, shooting into the creature's ill armored side while Grimsfeld and Bray tried for point blank head shots. The four only managed to stun the unyielding demon. Knowing that staying clumped together would mean certain death at the hands of the berserker, Grimsfeld ordered his men to take cover behind other turbine coverings and flank the incoming plasma Gasod. Out of the corner of his eye, Oopenheimer could see even more Gasod pouring in through the entrance that the original three Gasod came from. Turning his head, to count their numbers, he was greeted by the view of the ceiling and slobbering mandibles.
Grimsfeld saw his comrades peril, and quickly emptied a clip from his SMG into the beast's head. It still didn't die. It roared in pain, showing its glittering teeth, just enough to let Oopenheimer's bullet pass through its unarmored maw, entering its brain. The hulk fell, pinning Oopenheimer with its carcass. Grimsfeld still heard the muffled fire of his men’s rifles, now followed by the punctuated PATOMFS of Clark's MGL. They had the Gasod at the door way, an easy position to defend. That's when a commando's head mysteriously left his body.
The whole room was filled with light distortions, coming in from the upper entrances. The team was forced into a blazing circle of panicked fire. They couldn't miss, they room was full of cloaked Gasod. Death was imminent. Then, the sky rained fire and shrapnel. The scream of confused and dying Gasod filled the room. Flickering flames, spouting from another group of men, came from the entrances the cloaked elites had entered from. Cooked grenades detonated in the air, exposing the Gasod's positions, which then were blanketed in flame and fire. When all were dead and gone, Bray, Clark, Grimsfeld, Oopenheimer and the three remaining commandos looked up at the their rescuers. "Someone call for a barbecue," coughed a soot and blood stained sergeant.

Originally Posted By C480053

"Damnit, I'm running out of ammo," Clark said, putting his last six grenades into the revolving chamber. More Gasod elites were pouring from every possible area.
"Damnit!" Oopenheimer screamed, as a Gasod grabbed him, and held him against a wall by the throat. Oopenheimer was a few feet off the ground, and his legs were kicking.
"Aaagh!" Clark said, screaming, as he wrestled with a Gasod. He tried to rip an armblade off, but to no avail. "You having fun, Oopenheimer?" Clark said, in a choke hold.
"I haven't seen this much meat in ages..." the Gasod holding Oopenheimer said, salivating.
"I'm...not...fat!" Oopenheimer screamed, kicking the Gasod where a male penis would be. It had no effect.
Clark continued to struggle, but it was useless. The Gasod ontop of him opened his mouth, revealing a large amount of sharp teeth.
"Fuck..." Clark screamed. The Gasod leaned forward. Clark began screaming.

---Somewhere else...---
Clark continued screaming and rolling, but stopped abruptly, and looked around. He wasn't in a Gasod's stomach.
"Oopenheimer?" Clark asked. "Bray? Grimsfeld?"
"We're okay," Bray said, dusting off the Gasod spit on him. They were onboard an ODP, Orbital Defense Platform.
"Greetings Colonel Clark! I am Admiral Pinace, of ODP sector Alpha! Welcome, welcome!" an old man said, in a decorated white jacket.
"ODP?" Bray asked.
"Orbital Defense Platform," Clark said. "Basically, its a part of an incredibly large defense satallite network. Each ODP unit is equipped with at least twenty SOLGs. The SOLG, or Strategic Orbital Linear Gun, is an anti-ship weapon, capabable of piercing the thickest armor the Gasod have to offer. The shells aren't radioactive, unlike previous anti-ship weaponry. They're 100% fallout free," he continued, giving a thumbs up and a wink.
"Why are we here, and not...digested?" Grimsfeld said, looking at the Gasod fleet approaching.
"Well, we needed to test our teleporter beams, and we felt you were the only people capable of doing this task..." the Admiral said.
"Task?" Oopenheimer and Clark said in unison.
"SOLG 25XB, one of our forward mounted SOLGs, was taken out by a biological weapon. We need you to get into space suits, and go out the airlock, and get across to the SOLG. Then, you'll have to fire the SOLG at the seven Gasod carriers inbound. We need you to do this. Suit up, ASAP," the Admiral said, as the station rocked with an impact.

Originally Posted By NinjaCombatAce

"Pompous Navy brass," muttered Clark, "I had that damn blue bastard right where I wanted him."
"Talk all you walk, we've got a job to do," replied Oopenheimer.
"And why the hell were WE chosen?"
"Possibly because most of the personnel were killed," guess Oopenheimer, looking down at the battered station. Many of its sections were missing.
The two were in an Gando 5 fighter craft. Actually, calling it a fighter craft would have been an insult to antiques. The craft was a low budget spitwad, making Clark very eneasy as he piloted it close to the SOLG's massive magnetic coils, avoiding the attention of any enemies. Bray and Grimsfeld were at the fire control center, waiting for Clark and Oopenheimer to repair the SOLG's main power conduit.

Finding a maintenance hatch, they docked the ship and entered. The inside was filled with a green mist, but their suits protected them from harm. Bodies lay strewn over control panels, some still convulsing to the bioweapon's toxins. "Emerald Mistress," guessed Oopenheimer, "I've heard of this toxin. The victim's skin feels as if its ripping apart ... which it does since the victim is clawing at themselves, but that's after their kidneys implode and their lymph nodes break off, along with the seperation of the tendons in the leg. Nasty stuff." Clark found control panel and initiated a venting cycle, then found the reactivation sequence for the coils. "Five minutes till polarization of coils complete," reported Clark.
"That's to slow, override the drip systems and burn the mag charges."
"Wouldn't that be bad?"
"Maybe, just do it, we don't have the time."
"OK, magnetic coil operation levels now holding at 87%, Bray, that's as much as I can give you for now, your range and power might be a little limited," said Clark over the comm.
"Acknowledged," replied Bray.
After a few moments Clark and Oopenheimer felt a dull thud under their feet, followed by a huge roar as death streaked from the SOLG. Flipping on a viewscreen the pair saw the projectile punch a hole through a carrier's shields, and ripping through the front manifold. The first shot was followed by another and another, but then a sickening shriek came from the consoles. Looking over them, Oopenheimer saw that a power surge had knocked out a mag relay in coil number 42, possibly causing a small amount of the EMP from the nuclear detonation to fry the coil. "Aw shit," he exclaimed into the comm, "Bray, immediately cease firing, the SOLG's down again, standby for repairs."
"Make it quick, those carriers are closing in," replied Bray anxiously.

Clark and Oopenheimer arrived at coil 42, or what was supposed to be coil 42. Its entirety was blackened, with no sign of operating ever again. "Shit, this may take a while," muttered Oopenheimer. He thrusted over in his spacesuit and popped open a casing to another coil, accessing it's routine computer. Clark kept watch in the Gando 5, a Manakee scout spotted him and engaged. Fortunately Clark also noticed the scout and swore under his breath, the Gando 5 was definitely no match for the Manakee. Pulling off in a wide arc, Clark hoped to drive the scout away from Oopenheimer, which it did with great success, only now Clark had a overpowered foe on his six. Hoping to stall for more time, he pulled up, trying to shake the Gasod. In a freak accident, has fighter flipped nose over tail, catching the scout by surprise and ending up on his foe's six. Not wasting this gift from chance, Clark engaged his guass cannons, which subsequently ran out of ammo, leaving only a slightly wounded scout fleeing back to the carrier group.
"Got it," commed in Oopenheimer, "I managed to overlap the mag fields, should be safe to fire now."
"Get your ass in here," screamed a frustrated Clark, "we're getting a better fighter!"
Behind them the stars were covered in a blot of Gasod fighters.

Originally Posted By C480053

Clark landed the Gando 5 at the landing dock on the SOLG. Oopenheimer was waiting for him, still in his space suit. Clark walked, determined towards one of the surviving F/S 22 Raptor advanced combat aircraft. The cockpit was open, and a body was lieing at the base of the steps up. Clark ran up, and strapped himself in, without saying a word. Oopenheimer ran up the stairs, and jumped in, strapping himself in. He instantly regretted that decision.
"Uh...Ryan?" Oopenheimer asked.
"Yeah?" Clark said, turning the turbines on. The engines began whirring.
"Did I tell you that I hate flying in enclosed little aircraft?" Oopenheimer asked.
"Not really," Clark answered, turning the Advanced Scanning Radar Array (ASRA) on.
"Well...I kinda am..." Oopenheimer said.
"Do me a favor. Turn the inertia dampners on," Clark said. The F/S 22 began wheeling towards the bay. Manakee's flew by.
"This is Bray, we destroyed a carrier!" the radio crackled.
"Damnit Bray, I said not to!" Oopenheimer said, cursing under his breath. The SOLG began shaking.
"Whats going on?!" Grimsfeld screamed.
"The coils detonated the remaining shells. They're gonna take the SOLG out..." Clark said. "I'd begin running. Theres an empty Gando 5 in here, though its empty, and...uh...a damaged F/S 22."
The F/S 22 raced out of the docking bay, immediately pulling up.
"Hey, uh...Clark. Have you...ever...flown one of these?" Oopenheimer asked.
"For a few years," Clark said, flipping the aircraft.
"Great," Oopenheimer muttered. The F/S 22 came behind a Manakee threesome. As soon as the ASRA got a lock on, Clark fired three Multi Launch Air to Air Missiles (MLAAR). The three hit their mark, and the F/S 22 flew through the explosion. The SOLG began breaking off from the ODP. Clark flew by the bay, to see if the F/S 22 was still there. He saw what looked like Bray and Grimsfeld running towards it. But by the time Clark made the connection in his mind, he was far away from the bay, and the SOLG began to explode.

Originally Posted By NinjaCombatAce

Grimsfeld slapped Bray in the back of the head again, "I told you not to shoot, but NO, the damn thing's broken again." The last salvo of shots from the SOLG had ruptured the ammo containment stores. Grimsfeld and Bray were headed to the docking bay, escaping the now useless station. "So which one do you want, the broken POS or the regular POS?" asked Grimsfeld, looking at the damaged S/F 22 and the Gando 5.
"Let's take our chances with the 22," hastily replied Bray, "I call pilot."
The two settled in, Bray began hitting random switches.
"You know how to fly this thing?" asked Grimsfeld.
"Fly, yes. Land, no." Bray replied.
"Better than I can do," replied the captain grimly.
The S/F 22 hesistantly lifted off the ground, then thundered obliquly out of the bay at an unsteady angle.
"Uh, lets see here, gears, flaps... uh got it."
"We're dead."
"What's all those flashing red blips on the pan..., HOLY SHIT!"
In front of them the blackness of space was covered in dozens of Manakee fighters. The comm crackled, "Bray, this is Clark! Pull up and break off, you can't engage a force that size. Evade until we come with reinforcements!"
"Copy that," replied Bray unsteadily.
Clark had gathered a flight of F/S 22 and 18's. He was just a minute away from helping Bray and Grimsfeld. He watched helpless as the damaged fighter danced for a desperate bid for survival against the Manakee fighters, toying with their prey. With only ten seconds within range to engage, the Gasod decided to end the game. A plasma blot lanced silently towards the damaged fighter's right dorsal wing. "NO!" screamed Clark as he saw the fighter spin out of control. "Pull up! Come on damnit, pull up!"
A weak defeated voice cut through the static, "I'm...gonna miss that voice. We'll be waiting for you Colonel." A burst of flame lit up like a funeral pyre, marking the hole Bray and Grimsfeld's fighter had made as it crashed into one of the ODP's SOLG's. "Bray? Grimsfeld? Come in, come in dammit come in," choked Oopenheimer. Silence and static filled the empty grave of space. Clark's nuckles whitened, a death grip on the stick, "they're dead," he grimaced, "and so are those Gasod. We're gonna kill every last one of them! TO DEATH AND VENGEANCE!"

Originally Posted By C480053

It was reminiscent of an old western standoff. The Terran forces, in their F/S 22 and F/S 18 fighters were racing towards a wall of Manakees.
"This is Clark. Guys, we all know whats at stake here. Keep cool, and keep your wingman covered. Hopefully we'll get some cruiser support from the First fleet. Other then that, we're pretty much on our own," Clark said, the two forces inching closer together. "How're you doing Oopenheimer?" Clark asked.
"I"m doing just fine," Oopenheimer said, gritting his teeth. "I think I figured out how to fire the secondary CIWS (Close In Weapon System. Pronounced See-wizz)"
"Good, good. I'd like you to keep it going, and not hitting any friendlies," Clark said.
"Easier said then done..." Oopenheimer responded. The threat detection began ringing.
"Alright. This is Clark. All aircraft, cleared to engage," Clark said. The wall of Terran ships crossed over, firing the gatling cannons. From an ODP, the engagement zone looked like fireworks going off. Blue and purple plasma bolts crossed with yellow and green and red tracers.
"Clark, we got a bandit on our six!" Oopenheimer screamed, trying to aim using the CIWS eyepiece.
"Shoot it down!" Clark screamed, pulling up, skimming a Gasod carrier. The CIWS began firing at four thousand rounds per second. The Manakee exploded, its wreckage plowing into the deck. The F/S 22 rolled to the left, and the ASRA picked up several Manakees. Within moments, the radar was locked, and missiles were fired. Moments later, the radar blips disappeared.
"Splash five!" Clark screamed.
"Sir, they keep coming!" a voice said over the radio.
"Enemy aircraft at Four O'Clock!"
"Four O'Clock from who?! You're not helping us over here!"
"I'm hit, I can't pull up! I repeat, I can't pull up! I'm going do-"
"Clark, they're right. There are way too many aircraft aboard the carriers for us to deal with. We're going to get run down," Oopenheimer said.
"You're right," Clark said, bringing the F/S 22's nose in line with the take off bay on the carrier.
"Uh, Clark, thats a Gasod carrier..." Oopenheimer said. Clark didn't answer. "Thats also where they're taking off from..." Multiple Manakees left the bay. The F/S 22 continued forward. "Damnit, whats the plan?"
"Thats more like it. You're going to man the CIWS, and hit the Manakee fuel tanks. I'll try and get us out of there before the secondary explosions rip us apart,"
"You're fucking crazy," Oopenheimer said with a grin.
The F/S 22 entered the bay, and Clark immediately pulled up. They were going straight up, to the top of the carrier, where the fuel tanks are.
"Ready?" Clark asked.
"Not at all," Oopenheimer responded.
"We're there, open fire!" Clark screamed. Oopenheimer began firing the CIWS, puncturing several fuel tanks. They began spitting out fuel, and the fuel caught fire. But it was too late, as the F/S 22 was already out in the bay as the ship exploded. The F/S 22 just made it out, exploding Manakees sending debris everywhere.
"This is Second squadron, we're heading back to Omega to rearm! Anyone else coming?" a voice crackled on the radio.
"Roger, this is Colonel Clark and Colonel Oopenheimer. We'll regroup,"
The F/S 22 and F/S 18s flew in a formation, heading towards the surface.
"Now, Oopenheimer, you're going to feel a slight bump, as we switch to atmosphere combat mode," Clark said. "Look at the other aircraft to see how easy it is."
Oopenheimer turned his head, and watched an F/S 18. Its wing was ripped off, and it collided with a second F/S 18.
"Holy shit!" Oopenheimer exclaimed.
"Damnit, Gasods! They must've used the sun to evade our radar!" Clark said. "We're unarmed. Damnit!" Clark rolled the F/S 22 multiple times. A Gasod plasma bolt hit the left engine. The fighter spewed smoke, as a military base came into view.

Originally Posted By NinjaCombatAce

Lights flashed and sirens blared. The view outside was an endless cycle, space sun, ground, space sun, ground, and always the ground became larger with each pass. The cockpit flared red as the S/F 22 entered the atmosphere, pieces trailing behind it. Oopenheimer's head was swimming to the fluctuating G's, lacking a proper flight suit. He felt like being crushed, exploded and thrown around in every direction at once. "We gotta eject!" screamed Clark, "get ready at 5000 feet!"
Oopenheimer only managed a brief nod through clenched teeth. He managed to grab a pistol and fasten it to himself while Clark secured a P90.
"We punch it in three!" screamed Clark.
The next thing the wiry colonel knew, he was floating into the blue, looking at a familiar cycle, only with sky, fighter, trees. He felt a tight lurch as the parachute deployed, the molten ball of slag that was the S/F 22 came rolling by, luckily not hitting him or Clark. Looking to his left, Oopenheimer saw Clark's seat. Picturesque would have been the word to describe the scene, if it wasn't for the sky raining debris, and the military base below that looked like it was under attack. The ground came up to meet them. A thousand branches twapped at them, an endless line of rustling flails as the two came crashing to earth. A huge column of fire sprouted 50 yards from them as their fighter made its final reunion with Omega's surface. A small mag-pulse array activated mere inches from the ground, stopping the bone crushing descent from being deadly. Oopenheimer lay there for a second, dazed as his mind realigned itself with the sense of "up". The grounded colonel slowly undid his harness, staggered a few feet and fell to his knees. Once the world felt like it wasn't going to slam into him, Oopenheimer retrieved his weapon which had fallen loose. Clark was standing a few feet away, "Come one, I saw a base a few miles away. Looks they're gonna need help too." The pair could see several Gasod dropships headed for a distant point. Weapons fire could be heard through the trees. "That must be where the base is, come on, we've got plenty of fighting to do."

Originally Posted By C480053

The two raced through the forest, a Gasod dropship flying overhead, screaching. It exploded, and fell into the treeline, exploding. A Gasod bomber, in its trail flew by, only to be vaporized from the ground. In unison, the two said "What the fuck?!" outloud, as they came to the entrance. It was still standing, surprisingly. A guard even acknowledged their existance, and led them inside.
"So, where are we?" Oopenheimer asked, in the armory.
"The testing site of the White Eagle!" Clark said exicted.
"White...Eagle?" Oopenheimer asked again, puzzled.
"Well, the White Eagle is a large ship, designed for testing new weaponry and deep space aircraft. The whole facility has all sorts of fun weaponry," Clark said, pulling out a prototype raildriver. Clark drooled, putting in a shell. After it warmed up, the raildriver could fire seven thousand rounds per minute, and pierce twenty feet of armor.
Oopenheimer picked up a tactical laser system. The TLS is an energy laser, designed to cut holes in Gasod craft.
The alert siren began ringing again. Gasod dropships were inbound. Clark and Oopenheimer ran to the front door.
"What is it, night?" Clark muttered, looking at the shadows on the ground. He looked up, and the sky was filled with Gasod dropships. He aimed his raildriver up, and let loose. Oopenheimer fired the tactical laser in sweeps of the sky. The weapon that vaporized the bombers was firing too, bringing light to the planet.
"This is going to be fun," Oopenheimer muttered, firing his laser.

Originally Posted By NinjaCombatAce

The sky was saturated with the smoke of downed Gasod dropships. The air stank of roasting alien flesh and charred biomaterial. Clark and Oopenheimer, with their experimental weapons, were having a field day.
"Dammit! That's another for you!" laughed Clark.
"Twenty credits says I can make this one flip twice!"
"Oh yeah? Well I've got fifty saying that I can cut this one in two!"
"You've got a projectile weapons, there's no way!"
"Just watch me."
The woods were now on fire due to the flaming hulks falling to the surface. Smoke started to screen some of the dropships.
"Oh look, they brought some tanks!"
In a matter of seconds the paltry ground force the Gasod managed to assemble was reduced to swiss cheese and ribbons.
"Hey, what's that rumbling?"
"Huh? I can't hear over your constant kill stealing!"
"No seriously, what's that rumbling?"
A technichian ran and shouted over a dull roar that was eminating from the ground, "You've got five minutes till evac! White Eagle's needed starside, so you'll need to clear the area soon!" The tech scurried back, leaving the two to continue the slaughter.
They noticed that they were the only one outside, save for the running technician, headed for an underground building, leading to the massive hanger that housed the White Eagle. Below all kinds of weapons and munitions were being stored in the ship. Four flights of X15/FTM's, the most advanced fighters in the Terran pipeline, were already docked inside, ready for a fight in space.
Clark and Oopenheimer continued the masacre for another two minutes, then the sky went dark. Looking behind them, a Gasod cruiser started to ease over the base. "Aw hell naw," exclaimed Clark. He emptied half a box of ammo in vain agianst the hulk before his weapon jammed. "Let's get to the Eagle," said Oopenheimer, already edging toward the underground bunker.

Originally Posted By C480053

Clark and Oopenheimer scurried down the stairwell into a lift. Clark punched the button labeled "hanger" while trying to unjam his weapon. "How do you think the fighting is up there?" asked Oopenheimer slumped in one of the elevator's corners while, checking the coolant pack from his TLS.
"Well, from what I heard over the com back there, we got almost half their fleet with the ODP's before they broke through."
"So we've got a chance then."
"Yeah."
The two were now overcome with fatigue from the infiltration of the rebel base, the fight throught the streets and the powerplant, the dogfight in space, the distress for their lost comrades, the crash landing, and the two man defense of the testing facility. Adrenaline had been fueling them, but now their reserves were nearly spent. They stared at each other wearily, caked in the blood of their enemies, two soldiers pushed to their limits, taking what fate gave them. The lift dinged as they reached their destination. Putting on a show of strength, the two trotted into the underground bay, weapons slung over their shoulders. The White Eagle was prepped and ready for launch, all fuel lines and catwalks detached from the hull. The pair stared in awe at the three mile long behemoth, its crew being over ten thousand strong just to maintain it. They realized that the lift had brought them into a mountain, only that it had been hollow out just to accomidate the gargantuan piece of Terran inginuity. A cargo cart pulled up to the two, its operator beckoning them to ride in the back. The weary fighters hopped in, grinning.
"You know what this means?" laughed Clark.
"We win?"

--- 5 minutes later ---

An entire side of the mountain fell away as the anti-grav pods and take-off engines fired up for the White Eagle'sdeparture. A tremendous roar rocked the heavens as the flying city scorched the earth with it's departure from Omega's surface, incinerating nearby Gasod ground forces. The vast beyond of space and battle beckoned. Inside the beast, two tiny voices could be heard.
"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW"

Originally Posted By C480053

The White Eagle continued its ascent, its hundred gauss anti-air batteries shredding any Gasod fighter attempt to destroy it, although the shields would protect the white behemoth. It exited the atmosphere, as Clark and Oopenheimer made it to the bridge.
"Are you sure we're at the bridge?" Clark asked, looking around.
"It said take the left teleporter at exit five..." Oopenheimer muttered. He leaned on a wall, which opened up, exposing the bridge. Clark knocked on the wall.
"Come in gentlemen! Come in, come in!" a friendly voice said, waving. It was Admiral Peppers of the Omega Defense Fleet. "Welcome aboard! I was just going to call for you! I figured the men who got us up here should be allowed to see our next course of action!" the man said.
"Admiral Peppers, enemy barricade of carriers, cruisers, and battleships three hundred thousand feet and closing. They're charging their weapons," one of the radar operators said.
"Engines at max, strengthen front shields. Arm the Eagle's Talon," the Admiral said.
"The Eagle's Talon? That sounds sexy!" Clark exclaimed.
"It's a backup should this not work," the admiral responded.
"Should what not wor...Why aren't we slowing down?!" Oopenheimer screamed.
The White Eagle approached the blockade. It was ten carriers long by five carriers wide, followed by battleships and cruisers aiming at them. They began firing at the White Eagle. The shields absorbed all the damage, and onboard, it felt as if a strong wind was shaking the craft.
Two hundred feet.
One hundred feet.
Fifty feet.
The White Eagle smashed through the first three carriers, ripping them to pieces. Colonel Clark waved at the Gasod that were floating lifelessly in space. The inertial dapners had kicked in, making the impacts seem like small speed bumps. "Dammit, I can't see!" swore Clark. The bridge windows were covered in Gasod bodies.
"I'll fix that," relpied the admiral calmly. He snapped his fingers. A pair of energy window wipers cleared the obstructions. The Gasod armada in front of them seemed to slow and halt, unsure of how to deal with the colossal threat. Admiral Pepper took a sip of Southern Comfort from his glass, he spoke into the comm, "Rockwall I do believe that we have been rude to our Gasod guests, please send our apologies with a proper gentile welcome."
"Aye admiral," replied a voice. The floor rumbled as the gauss batteries came to life, filled with gifts for all the Gasod ships.

Originally Posted By NinjaCombatAce

As White Eagle cleared the Carrier blockade the cruiser and battleship blockade came into viewing range, "there must be an entire fleet out there" stated Oopenheimer.

To which Admiral Peppers replied "brilliant this will be an excellent test of our combat capabilities"

As the enemy armarda approached a radar operator was calling out the distance, "One thousand feet...five hundered feet...one hundred feet...brace for minor turbulence"

On the view screen Clarke and Oopenheimer watched as cruisers and battleshis simply began to get shredded by weapons fire and the ones that survived long enough to hit the shields broke up into thousands of small pieces of debrey.

"aw man i love this ship" shouted Clarke

As the White Eagle's gauss cannons finished blowing holes in the last cruiser Amiral Peppers gave the command "Helm...Set course for the Chentuka system maximum speed"

"Sir why are we going to the Chentuka system?" Oopenheimer inquired, "it's barron except for a Gasod POW camp is it not?"

"Correct" stated Admiral Peppers "You remember your friend Bray, well it turns out that just prior to his ship crashing and burning our sensors detected a Gasod site to site transport signal, and a minute later we also detected a lightly armed cargo ship leaving the fleet at maximum speed toward the Chentuka system and onboard were two humans and several Gasods. We can only imagine that they are being tortured and interogated as we speak about the White Eagle." The Admiral paused then continued, "anyways it looks like you two could do with some shut eye, we have two 'V.I.P' Quaters set up for you Ensign Crawford will escort you two them, good night soldiers"

"Good night sir" Clarke and Oopenheimer replied.

--- Flashback to Bray and Grimsfeld Crashing in the F/S 22 ---

The world was spinning and on fire, Bray thought that he could see the hull of the SOLG being blown apart, creating a small hole slightely smaller than the size of a fighter craft. He could do nothing, but his hands flew helplessly over the controls. Grimsfeld had his eys closed, mumbling something under his breath. The computer blared, "Dorsal impact imminent, inertial dampners set to compensate, standby..." Bray felt a crushing downward force on his shoulders, then in a hideous crunch, the craft smashed into the hole of the SOLG, cockpit facing inside, repressurizing the station. In an accident, Bray hit the release canopy button. The two toppled onto the floor unconcious, only to wake up in another hell.

Originally Posted By C480053

Lieutenant Bray awoke with a jolt as though he had just had one of those dreams where you are falling, it took Bray a few seconds before he realised that he was in fact alive but in a Gasod holding cell, he staggered over to the entrance of the holding cell and looked over to the holding cell on the other side, he could see Grimsfeld still lying unconscious on the floor, there was also a single Gasod guard standing by the door.

"Hey asshole where am I?" shouted Bray at the guard

"Shut up Terran scum or I will come over there and beat you!" replied the guard.

"Hmm charming," muttered Bray before shouting "Hey Grimsfeld wake up you lazy git!"

"Wah" came Grimsfeld's reply as he sat up so sharply that he hit his head on a sort of table, "ow, bray you jerk where am I, I can't see a thing."

"You have your eyes closed you moron" replied Bray

"oh yeah...how are we still alive, the last thing I remember was us getting hit by a Manakee...I must have hit my head and knocked myself out" finished Grimsfeld

"ah I thought you just didn't want to see the ground rushing up to meet us..." Before Bray could finish Grimsfeld started up.

"What I thought you said you knew how to fly it, how the hell did you crash?"

"Well it's a little hard to fly when you are missing a wing" retorted Bray

"Yeah I suppose, where are we any way?" inquired Grimsfeld

"I'll give you one guess..." but before Grimsfeld could even start Bray concluded "...we seem to be onboard some kind of Gasod transport ship, probably heading to a POW camp to be kept there until we die"

"Clarke and Oopenheimer will save us though won't they" came Grimsfeld’s shaky voice

"I don't know, for all they know we died in the crash"

"Shit now how are we going to get out? Asked Grimsfeld

"Dunno but for now we will just have to sit it out" replied Bray

"but..." started Grimsfeld before the guard interrupted him.

"I told you to shut up" and before Bray could do anything his holding cell door swung open and the guard walked in, Bray threw himself at the guard and knocked him clean off his feet, Bray then punched the guard in the face till he stopped struggling. Bray made his way over to the control panel that would release Grimsfeld’s door, but just as he got to it two guards stormed into the room and shot Bray with some kind of tranquilisers.

--- Meanwhile onboard the White Eagle ---

"Morning Clarke" said Oopenheimer as he walked into the command deck of the White Eagle, "Morning Sir" he added as he saw Admiral Peppers.

"Morning Oopenheimer" came the two men’s replies.

"So what have we got?" inquired Oopenheimer.

Admiral Peppers then started "Ok the Cargo ship just landed on the 4th planet in the Chentuka System 6 Hours ago, now we where going to just follow it in and invade the planet however our long range scans indicate that the Gasod military has been extremely busy in the past month and the Chentuka system has been heavily fortified with thousands of unmanned turrets and we have also detected Gasod Ship Yards with literally thousands of ships. There are too many Gasod ships and emplacements there for even us too take out on our own, so we have called up the 7th fleet to assist, they will be here within the hour."

"So how long till we reach the Chentuka system?" replied Oopenheimer.

Clarke answered before the Admiral could, "About 7 hours, give or take a few."

"Hold in there Bray" said Oopenheimer as though Bray could hear him somehow, "Hold in there buddy we're coming"

Oopenheimer still had one question on his mind, "Admiral?"
"Yes?"
"I appreciate all you've done for this rescue mission, the services of the Eagle, and 7th fleet coming against insurmountable odds, but don't you think this is a bit much for two of our friends?"
The Admiral smiled, "Have you ever heard about Napolean son?"
""No sir."
"Napolean was a great general back in the ancient days. He established order where he went, the whole world knew of him."
"And?"
"He said that superior morale beats 3 to 1 odds. Now imagine what low morale would do to the enemy."
"I don't follow how this connects..."
"Bray killed the Praetor of the Gasod Armada, desacrating his remains with a frag grenade. This of course enraged the Gasod who somehow found out what Bray did. Now with his capture, they are in high spirits, but imagine if he was suddenly whisked away, one of their heavily defended systems put to the torch? That, coupled with their defeat at Omega, would destroy their morale, steal their will to fight."
"And that's why we are on this mission?"
"Well, its the best case scenario. I have a debt to repay you two for defending the base while we prepped for take off."
"Thank you."
"Get some rest corporal, you look like you could use it."

--- Bray ---

A sudden jolt of searing pain brought Bray to conciousness. He was tied to a pole flanked by prod-wielding Gasod. Around him was a multitude of chanting fanatical aliens, wanting to see his blood run free. Another jolt sent him screaming into the darkness, only to be revived when a searing goo splashed across his face. Was this Hell?

The fleets had finally meshed, creating a wall around the White Eagle. Over a thousand battleships, hundreds of thousands of fighters, three thousand cruisers, destroyers, support ships, cloaked bombers, everything, flew in a tightknit formation around the White Eagle. Clark was in the command deck, holding his P90 against him, looking at the ships.
"Thats the Seventh?" Clark asked.
"Indeed. They scrambled from Atlantis for this one," Admiral Peppers said, happily.
"You..you're kidding?!" Clark screamed. The sensors began flashing.
"Private Mark, report," Admiral Peppers screamed, sitting in his chair.
"The planet the cargo landed at just launched a scout at us. Eta is one minute," the private screamed.
"Get all weapons at the ready NOW!" Peppers screamed. The lights began flashing red. The scout was within range of the White Eagle's CIWS guns. Within seconds, it exploded. The flashing stopped, and the Admiral breathed a sigh of relief.
"Private Mark reporting! Enemy fleet just departed the scout's planet. My god, there are so many of them! A wave of Manakees is inbound, followed by hundreds of battleships and devastor class ships!"
"Damnit," the Admiral said. The lights began flashing.
The railgun came to life on the ship, lifting up from the dorsal side. It charged, and took aim at the battleships. Dozens of steel rails ripped Gasod battleships to shreds. The Gauss cannons were delivering an unbelievable amount of fire, coupled with that of the cruisers and battleships. The first and second wave of Manakees was wiped out, illuminating the path to the planet.
"Thousands of ships, inbound! Its devastors, cruisers, battleships, Manakees, and something I've never seen before! Almost as many of these as Manakees!" the private screamed. In the distance, next to the Manakees, there were large, boomerang shaped ships. The wings opened up to reveal large plasma cannons.
"Theres a wall of plasma coming at us!" the private cried.
"Brace for impact," the Admiral said calmly. Clark buckled a seatbelt around him. Oopenheimer grabbed a station and held on dearly.

A radar operator called out the time till the plasma wall hit the White Eagle "10 Seconds to Impact....5 Seconds...4...3...2...1...Brace for impact."

The Plasma wall hit the White Eagles shilds, the shields managed to take most of the bunt of the attack but they were now down to 70%, "What the hell was that?" shouted Admiral Peppers.

"I don't know sir but whatever it was it would have destoyed us if we didn't have such strond shields." Came a reply from one of the crewmen.

"Clarke, Oopenhiemer do you know what that was?"

Oopenhiemer was first to respond, "Yes sir i believe that was the Gasods Yellow Squadren..."

"So what if its yellow squadren what's so special about them?" interupted Admiral Peppers.

"Well sir Blue squadren is their most experienced and feared squadren, they also have the most powerful fighters in the Gasod Military..."

Just as he was finishing a voive crackled over the comm. system, "White Eagle this is Wing Commander Pieterson, 307th fighter core, we are about to engage the enemy squadren that just fired on you."

"good hunting Commander, give em hell" was Peppers response

--- On the planets surface ---

The hot goo like substance that had been thrown onto Bray was burning him excruciatingly, "Tell us how to destroy White Eagle or we will Turture you even more." said the Gasod soldier who was torturing Bray

"Never you slimey piece of shit." came bray's response.

"That wasn't very nice now was it?" replied the interigator

"ARRRGHHH" the gasod had broke one of Bray's fingers

"Every time you answer a question that doesn't please me i'll break another finger, and then ill start on your toes."

"I'll rip your fucking head off, when i get out of here." Shouted Bray

--- Onboard the White Eagle ---

"Sir does the white eagle have any stealth interceptors?" asked Clarke

"Yes we have a squadren in Hanger bay 2 right now, why?" responded the Admiral

"Sir permission to take a stealth interceptor and retrieve Bray" Said Oopenhiemer.

Peppers responded with a surprised tone to his voice, "What just the two of you?"

"Yes sir we are willing sir" replied Clarke

"negative..." came the Admirals response

"WHAT!" shouted Oopenhiemer "Our buddies down there it'll take ages for the fleet to get the the planet, by then he could be dead." shouted Oopenhiemer.

"If you had let me finish you would by now have realised that i ordered you to take the 9th Recon unit with you too, they are some of the best infiltrators we have." replied Admiral Peppers.

The stealth fighters zipped around their own craft, staying close to the detection shadows. They exited the fleet cluster without incident. "Stay frosty and spread out guys, there's no telling what may see us, avoid all enemy fighter contact. Rendezvous at the coordinates in an hour, maintain radio silence from here on out," ordered Oopenheimer. Acknowledgement lights winked on across Clark and Oopenheimer's console. "Well looks like you're in your element," noted Clark.
"I've done hundreds of these things."
"Shows."
Oopenheimer grimaced as old memories long suppressed rose anew. His mechanical leg twitched as he gripped it. They would pay.

--- Bray ---

Bray knew he was in trouble, everyone in the room wanted him dead ... and he would be soon if he didn't come up with some information about the White Eagle fast. That was the problem. To him, the Eagle was a myth, a dream of the Terran Navy to build the ultimate ship. Little did he know that this "dream" was just only thousands of kilometers away. Stil, Bray had no viable information, and that ment he had to stall. "Why don't you just kill me now?" He laughed, putting on a show of strength.
"How about I rip off your leg and feed it to you?" snaped the inquistor, mandibles quivering in rage.
Acting culled and frightened for a split second to lead his captors on, he replied, "Uh, well um, I could use the meat, come on, I've got two of them!"
The Inquistor turned his back on him and grinned, Good, he's slipping, I'll wait a while longer. "I promise your death will be quick if you tell me all you know about the White Eagle," proposed the inquistor, mandibles trying their best to mimic a smile. Bray had to supress a laugh at this sight, "It's white you know."

"Alright, alright, alright," Bray said. "I'll talk,"
The inquisitor grinned, his victim finally talking.
"Back on Omega, there was this bordello, called the White Eagle. Me and the guys used to go there on our leave. The strippers were hooooot," Bray started. "There was this one girl, Candy, huge tits, great head, not too expensive. She was mine, yeah!" Bray continued. The inquisitor frowned. This is not the White Eagle he expected.

-Fourty minutes later-

"So Billy says, 'Dude?! You hit that shit?!', and I'm all like 'Hell yeah!'. So after we left, we had to go save our friend, who was taken by some guys or something like that. But we went back in, cause the sex was just that great. I tried some new girl, I don't remember her name. She was pretty fine. I mean, she was damn fine. Great sex, greaaat sex. They nicknamed my penis the White Eagle." Bray finished.
"Human! You have wasted enough time! Tell me about the White Eagle!" the inquisitor snapped.
"I just did!" Bray screamed.
"No! You talked about your recreational reproduction! Nothing of your ship the White Eagle!" the inqusitor screamed.
"Damnit, the White Eagle is shaped like a ship!" Bray screamed, now sweating.
"THEN WHAT DESTROYED OUR FLEET AT OMEGA?!" the inquistor snapped again. He had had it. His mandibles were dripping, and he moved closer to Bray.
"I'm not screaming," Bray said nervously. The Gasod moved closer, drooling. "I take that back. AAAAAHHH! GET AWAY FROM ME YOU BLUEBALLED SONNUVABITCH!"
The Gasod was over Bray. Unbenknownst to him, six men were dropping ropes from the roof of the building down to the chamber.
One of the men, dressed in black and carrying a P90, motioned for the rest to move. They slid down the ropes, landing on the ground behind the inquisitor. The inquisitor turned around, to see six men in black aiming firearms at him.
"How's your day going?" the one holding the P90 said, and fired thirty rounds into the inquisitor.

The inquisitors blood sprayed onto Bray, "Fucking hell Clark this is a new suit, watch where you are shooting that thing!...You got one for me?"

"Oh yeah right here buddy it's the new P90TR 50 rounds of depleted uranium encased in a trinium casing, this baby can put a hole in a tank." stated Clark

"Sweet where did you get this?"

"The White Eagle has loads of new experimentory weapons such as this."

"White Eagle? Your having me on!"

"Nope we came on the White Eagle to rescue you and we also have the 7th Fleet up there..."

"Wow you came all this way just for me cheers guys"

Oopenhiemer then spoke up, "Not just you we came for Grimsfeld too, and the Gasod ship yards. Where is Grimsfeld being held?"

"Dunno they forgot to give me the tour!"

Oopenhiemer then started to give out commands on his radio, "OK guys we have the Lieutenant but Grimsfeld is still out there, 1st squad check the east wing, 2nd and 3rd squads sweep the main compond, 4th squad west wing, 5th squad you guys take the south and 6th take the north wing and command center, 7th and 8th come and cover our backs."

The acknowledgements came in almost as soon as he had finished,

"Roger that 1st squad moving"
"2nd squad move out"
"3rd squad en-route sir"
"4th squad sweeping west wing"
"5th squad heading south"
"6th squad moving sir"
"7th and 8th squads covering you sir."

--- Meanwhile onboard the White Eagles command deck ---

*Consoles exploding ship getting knocked around by impacts*
"Sir shields are almost gone sir" shouted an engineer

"1st gauss battery is running low on ammo" shouted another voice

"sir what shall we do?"

Admiral Peppers then took a comm. device, "Gun deck this is Admiral Peppers prepare the Eagles Talon, I repeat prepare the Eagles Talon."

"Sir the 7th fleet reports that they are down to 65%"

"whats the enemy fleets status?"

"89% sir those automated turrets are causing havoc, we have to do something about them."

Peppers took out his comm. device once more. "Gun deck when ready target the Automated Turrets..."

"Sir..." Came a voice from one of the scanner stations "...I have just noticed something odd about those turrets..."

"Well what is it ensign?, don't keep us all waiting"

"They don't have a power source onboard, they must be drawing their power from a remote location."

"Well then find it and destroy it."

"Yes sir."

Grimsfeld sat in the corner of his cell, examining his surroundings for a hundredth time. He had already tried to taunt the guards, but they all ignored him. The only way out was through the energy barrier, and the Gasod weren't careless about where to put the power source or control panel. It seemed hopeless. Staring up at the ceiling, Grimsfeld hardly notice to figures approach him. "Hey what are you ... what is that ... Nooooooo!"

--- The White Eagle ---

"Sir, I've located two power sources, one on an orbital platform 1000 kilmeters at bearing 1:5:0 and another in the installation the rescue team is in."
"Acknowledged, set a course for that platform, inform the ground team of the other power source. Once we come within firing range of the platform prepare the shield to Talon energy transfer, and tell the 7th to form tighly around us, we'll be vulnerable when we charge up."
"Aye, Admiral"

--- On the fourth planet ---

"Acknowledged," replied Oopenheimer. He had just recieved Admiral Pepper's orders. "Alright, new objective, there's a power plant somewhere in this compund that needs to be destroyed. You two take 7th and I'll find Grimsfeld with 8th. Once I find him I'll join up with you guys."

Clark and Bray nodded and headed down the corridor after 7th squad. Oopenheimer took his energy rifle and went after seventh. Many of the hallways were scattered with the bodies of surprised Gasod. The 9th Recon Unit was indeed an elite force. His radio crackled to life, "Sir, we've found Grimsfeld, but he's unconcious."
"Good I'm on my way." After another minute of walking Oopenheimer came upon an empty cellblock. Walking in he could see that 8th had covered the entrances unseen. Two guard bodies lay in a cell, no hint of violence was seen. In another cell lay Grimsfeld's prostrate form with a soldier. "All his vitals check out sir, but he hasn't come to." Knowing that Grimsfeld wasn't a man of weak constitution, Oopenheimer checked the captain's eyes. They were rolled back to the whites. "Shit, they whiped him."
"Sir?"
"They took his mind and uploaded it somewhere, probably in a disk. We're taking a trip men. You two, stay with him."

--- Clark and Bray ---

Clark took a brief glance through the doorway. Inside was a gigantic chamber. In its center was an enormous crystal with energy relays being beamed into it while a white scintilating shaft shoot into the infinity of the sky. A shimmer of light around the jewel told of protective shielding. "That must be it," said Bray, looking on the other side of the door. At that moment the ray of white pulsed and fluctuated. Two Gasod came running near the door, both looking at the beam. "Keep the feed stable, we can't afford to let the turrents go offline," barked one of the Gasod.
The other Gasod mumbled to his partner, "The feed is fluctuating more than expected. Perhaps there is an imperfection in the focal element."
"No, it's probably a shielding malfunction."
"But it won't hurt us or the feed?"
"Correct, the crystal just needs to be protected from any object that touches it."
"I'll go inform the guard to be cautious."
One of the Gasod started down the spiraling catwalk; the other went for the door way. Clark back handed him. "Thanks for the info pal," he chuckled. Bray joined him out on the catwalk. He looked down at the very pointy crystal, then at the unconcious body of the Gasod. "You thinking what I'm thinking," he said with a grin.
"Ten points for impalement ," replied Clark.
The two lifted the body over the railing and flung it into the energy ray, only to stare in amazement as the body, passing through the shielding, became rigid a second before it vaporized. So far no Gasod were alerted. Borrowing a silenced pistol from an opsman Clark fired a round at the crystal. Nothing happened. "This could be difficult."

--- Oopenheimer ---

Oopenheimer and two other opsmen halted at the end of a corridor. One of the colonel's followers looked around the corner. Giving silent signals, the scout had seen two Gasod standing guard in a doorway. There was no other way to go. Weighing his options Oopenheimer gave a sharp whistle, catching the attention of the guards. "You stay here," one of them said. Oopenheimer pressed himself against the wall, readying his knife with two silenced P90's at his back. The Gasod's head came into view. Oopenheimer grabbed it, having the alien's body meet his knife, it's eyes telling of shock. The other was quickly dispatched with a silent head shot. Walking inside the formerly guarded room, the trio were deafened by a persistent humming noise, which also masked their approach on an unarmed Gasod, working on what looked like a helmet device with a console. One reconman went to grab him, only to kill the enemy when he turned around. The floor was now sufficiently stained with the life blood of Gasod. Oopenheimer picked up the helmet and scanned the console, ejecting a square disk, it's dimension being 3.5 inches. "Well it was nice enough to install a reverse switch," he chuckled, examining the complex device. "8th squad, this is Oopenheimer, we've located Grimsfeld's mind, we're heading back."
"Copy that squad leader, we've got the captain hidden nice and safe."
There was a hint of laughter in the man's voice. "And what do mean by safe?"
"We managed to get the body into an air vent, thought the Gasod were coming."
"Dammit well get him out of there."
"Que? No comprende."
"I'm gonna kill that guy," muttered Oopenheimer.

Oopenheimer crackled over the radio.
"Clark!" he screamed.
"Hola!" Clark said in a Spanish accent. Clark tossed a grenade at the crystal. No effect.
"Grimsfelds been wiped!" Oopenheimer screamed again. Clark froze.
"What?" he said calmly.
"I've got his disc, but the body is in bad shape," Oopenheimer continued.
"Colonel! Incoming Gasods! Closing fast! Open fire!" one of the soldiers screamed.
"Damnit, gotta go," Oopenheimer closed the radio to the sound of silenced gunfire.
"Damn," Clark muttered. He looked back at the crystal. He looked down, to the bottom of the crystal. He saw a glowing green control panel.
"Bray, grenade me up!" he screamed.
"Its my last one!" Bray replied. He muttered and gave Clark the grenade. He pulled the pin and tossed it to the bottom. It exploded, destroying the panel. The shield glowed a bright blue, and disappeared.
"Help me with this one?" Clark asked, picking up a dead Gasod by the legs. Bray got the arms, and they heaved him to the crystal. The Gasod smacked it, trailing blue blood all the way down.
"White Eagle, this is Clark. The shield is disabled. I repeat, the shield is disabled. We're tossing the C4 bundle now," Clark said. The transmission ended in a large explosion.

-Aboard the White Eagle-

"Fire the Talon!" Admiral Peppers screamed. The White Eagle rumbled. The ship split into two pylons, revealing a central funnel and other gizmos. It began to pulse red.
"Fire." Admiral Peppers said. A bright red beam cut across the sky, moving in a circular motion, cutting any Gasod ship it touched into pieces. The space infront of them was covered in fire and burning Gasod ships. It continued cutting back and forth, utterly massacring the Gasod fighters.

-Back on the planet-

Oopenheimer looked up at the night sky. There was a red beam and explosions around it. He smiled, then rolled back, firing his P90.

The burning embers of the laser turrents gently subsided. The Gasod fleet hesistated, shocked that their defenses had been brought low so quickly. "Sir, they're regrouping around the central battle cluster."
"Excellent," replied Admiral Peppers, "prepare a new firing solution for the Talon, maximum effect."
A moment later the tactical officer reported that the solution was complete.
"Fire."
The red beam lance into the battlegroup, arcing as it went, cutting through the Gasod fleet like a scalpel. Several of their carriers were cut in two. The fleet scattered from the wreckage, fleeing in all directions. "We've got them on the run," exclaimed a young officer.
"Not quite," assesed Peppers, "Their Praetor won't give up so easily."
As he said this the scattered fleet came at them all at once. Due to their dispersal, the Talon could only fire on single targets. "Tell the 7th to hold the perimeter around us, fire on all of their carriers and heavies. If their fighters mass around us, we'll be slowly picked apart."

--- On the 4th planet ---

Clark, Bray and Oopenheimer had joined together again, with Grimsfeld in tow. They were making their way to the eastern exit where their extraction area was. "Oopenheimer to extraction team we're on our way, how's our exit?" Only static responded. "Extraction come in." Still nothing. Inside the compound every concievable alarm had gone off. The recon team was mowing down every surprised Gasod they came across, never stopping to take cover. They finally reached the exit and spiled out into a courtyard. It was as if a solar eclipse had begun. Only the gargantuan silhouette was of a Gasod battle mech. Fortunately it was still powering up, its pilot just having entered the cockpit. This gave the team just enough time to dive behind some crates before the air was saturated with plasma fire. "Now THIS is just a little unfair," muttered Clark, "so any solutions?"
"We could snipe the huge mech," retorted Oopenheimer sarcastically. Being a recon team, no one had brought heavy weapons. Luckily the crates they were behind seemed to be resistant to plasma. "Well we've gotta do something fast," Bray said. Across the courtyard, they could see at least twenty Gasod swarming out of a doorway. Oopenheimer slamed his elbow into a crate with frustration.

The recon team was laying down suppresive fire, the Gasod spider mech firing its plasma batteries and plasma accelerators.
"Oopenheimer, if we don't move now, these crates are gonna shatter on us! I radioed in to the White Eagle, but haven't gotten a response," Clark said, a chunk of the crate blown out from behind him. He instantly dove back down, and crawled to the edge of the crates, firing his P90. The 5.7x28mm SS190 bullets richocheted off the armor. A Gasod drop ship landed, dropping a Gasod defense tank.
"Recon team, lets capture that tank!" Clark and Oopenheimer screamed in unison. They both rushed forward, as the spider mech fired plasma accelerators at them. A plasma accelerator threw a recon member flying. Oopenheimer slipped, and ran back for him. He began helping him towards the tank, as Clark fired his P90 at the tank commander.
"We got the tank Oopenheimer! We got it!" Clark screamed. He turned around, and saw Oopenheimer running with a recon member on his back.
"Thats great! But, can you give me some help over here?" Oopenheimer cried. Clark began running towards him.

---In the spider mech---
"One of the terrans carrying an injured one is in our sights for the Pesl'Grea. Requesting permission to fire," the young Gasod said.
"Make their bodies a burning hole in our great planet!"

---Back on the ground---
Oopenheimer was running towards Clark. He turned towards the spider mech to estimate how far he was from it. As he turned, a streak of green ripped through his body armor, his internal organs, and out the back of his armor. He fell over, his mouth spewing blood.
Clark ran double time, grabbing Oopenheimers arm, and dragging him to the cover the new tank gave them.
"Medic!" Clark screamed. A medic came by, and looked at Oopenheimer.
"He's bleeding internally, and it looks like his stomach has been pierced. I don't have the equipment to patch him up. I'd say he has about fifteen minutes before we need to take his dogtags," the medic said grimly.
A plasma accelerator shot ripped into the tank, cutting the turret in half. Colonel Ryan Clark stood up, his P90 in his hand. He looked down, and saw two men forming a defense around the soon to die Oopenheimer and the comatose Grimsfeld. Bray was firing his P90 to no avail. Clark looked back up. He ripped out the empty magazine from his P90, and shoved a new one in there, and began running towards the spider mech. Plasma shells exploded around him. He was a man who knew his fate.

The world went black as Oopenheimer toppled over into the dust. His nerves burnt, the corporal didn't feel the mortal wound. An unknown hand grabbed his shoulder, "You're going going to be alright sir. Just hang on."

... just hang on

It was fifteen years ago when Oopenheimer heard those same words. At that time the wiry colonel was only a lieutenant. He was on a supposed minor colony of the Gasod, so unimportant to them that they only gave the planet a number ... or so it seemed to the eyes of the Terrans. Oopenheimer and his squad was to do recon on a strange fortified structure on the far side of the planet. It was there that they found a research facility.

"Patterson, hand me the field binocs," requested Oopenheimer. His second in command obliged. Zooming in the young lieutenant saw, throught the haze of the night vision, a guard turret jutting out of the ground with Gasod soldiers patroling its crest. Below the occasional unarmed Gasod disappeared and reappeared from the ground. "The facility must be underground," commented Oopenheimer, handing Patterson the binoculars. "Want to take a look?" asked the curious 2nd lieutenant, "we can probably find an opening to get inside."
"Why not? Mills, Graneger stay low and out of sight. Patterson and I are going in for a closer look." Oopenheimer was always up for a challenging adventure ... back then.

The two easily found an air vent to crawl into. The research facility was strangly empty. The two stayed inside the vent until they came across a huge opening, spilling into a conical chamber. Lookiong down the pair saw five Gasod scientists concentrated over one glowing panel. In the center of the room was a grav-tube, keeping a dark baseball-sized blob suspended in mid-air. "Definitely a research station," muttered Oopneheimer, snapping off a few pictures, "probably working on anti-matter. We'd better get back to command to report this." Patterson and the lieutenant made it out off the facility without incident. They came across the hill where Mills and Graneger were. No one was there. "Mills, Graneger, this is Oopenheimer, come in," whispered Oopenheimer over the comm. No one replied. Patterson climbed to the top off the hill, "Sir, you better come see this." Oopenheimer joined his second in command. The ground was scorched in various places, the tell tale signs of plasma fire. Beyond the hill was a forest and their recon craft, hidden in the brush. "Dammit, lets get back to the ship," said Oopenheimer.
"Mills and Granny?"
"We'll see."
The two hurried into the darkness of the thicket. They had only been in the woods for a minute when a plasma shot sizzled through the air, narrowly missing their heads. The two men dove ino the bush. Rustling could be heard all around them, the laughing of Gasod could be heard through the trees. None could be seen. Taking their chances, the soldiers broke cover and dashed forward. The air sang with bolts of plasma, but they all went wide. "Shit, they're toying with us," cursed Patterson, backpeddling and firing at random shadows.
"It's no use, we need to get out of here now," barked Oopenheimer. The distinct whooping of gleeful Gasod on the hunt filled the woods. Always the two ran, dodging sparodic bursts of plasma fire. One of these bursts caught Oopenheimer in the calf. It felt like his leg was on fire. Patterson wrapped Oopenheimer's arm around his shoulder. "You'll be ok sir, the craft isn't far now." Smelling the charred flesh and hearing the cry of the wounded terran, the Gasod redoubled their taunting fire, always from the distant cover of the thicket. Another fifteen minutes of being hunted down by wolves found Patterson staggering into the clearing where the recon craft was, and that was when the Gasod decided that their little game was up. The air became saturated with plasma fire. "We'll be ok sir, just hang on, just hang AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" A precise plasma bolt took Patterson in the back, right below Oopenheimer's arm. He could feel the heat searing into his comrade's flesh. They toppled over into the dust. Oopenheimer could see the feet of advancing Gasod, lauging over their helpless prey. They pried a flailing Patterson off of Oopenheimer. Laughing still, they drained their weapons into the poor man's body, reducing him to ash. The screams would stay with Oopenheimer, forever. The Gasod reduced Oopenheimer's leg to ash after they were bored with spreading Patterson's ashes into the wind. Then left, leaving the lieutenant at the foot of his craft to tell the tale his his lost men. All they really left, was a burning hatred.