Dark Void-Chapter 1
Celcion III Time: 0216 Year 2845
The black world of Celcion III was near invisible in the depths of space, just a black ball of darkness floating thru the even darker void of space. The only lights were pinpricks due to bioluminescent flora and fauna; he was assured by the science team. The science team which had sense went missing. Them and the two other teams sent in to rescue them by the ACLC "hoesenbeck", and the IRC "tyrannadon", which were currently orbiting it in high earth orbit, both with their running lights cranked to maximum brightness, as if they afraid the Very darkness that cloaked the planet would reach and snatch away their very lives if the lights were dimmed for even a millionth of a nanosecond. Perhaps it would, Thought the fiery figure with a small smirk and a tiny twitch of his tendrils. His name was Wraith Intari, And he did not think much of the Antaisis Confederation's light Crusader-class cruiser, or the Intergalactic Reptic Consortium and their Planetsmasher-class battleship, both so typical of their respective civilization. The hoesenbeck reflected the Antaisis Confederation's "science is all! what do we need a military for anyways?" approach to life, whereas the Consortiums Tyrannadon's motto seemed to be "if you put enough guns on it, you need not fear anything". Wraith turned his orca-like head, as if he could see this whole ship from this room. This ship, the In'vai-class GunRay, and the one he had just been assigned to. He blinked his rear 2 eyes, mentally switching them to blacklight, the better to view with in this dark room. the ship looked like a rust bucket, the paint was peeling off the walls, there was crap scattered everywhere, in short, it looked like the ship should be decommissioned, but that was never going to happen. He may have only served on this ship for a month, but due to his special "talents" he already knew many things. Things like how attached the crew was to this ship, how a passing rumor about it being scrapped would set a fire of rage in the crewmen aboard. No, these were men dedicated to this ship, those who would rather go down with it than see it torn apart in the name of "safety." that kind of feeling about a ship could only ever come from getting out of scrapes again and again and again on this ship. Wraiths long slender sensory tendrils pressed nervously against his back. He was one of the highest graduates at the Cetacea Battle Academy, managing to keep his head and achieve his objectives even during live-fire ship to ship fighting, despite being in outer space and having a puncture in one of his O2 tanks. Sure, he had needed to be resuscitated afterwards, but he HAD achieved his assigned objectives, and only 2 percent had been able to do the same. But even in live fire exercises, there was some manner of familiarity, some feeling of control. Here, there was none. There would be no med-teams waiting to help you if something went horribly wrong. If worst came to worst...
The Axl jerked himself back from that black abyss of his imaginings of what was to come. Looking into the future was only useful to a point. Look for too long, and it sucked you in, hampering your ability to deal with the here and now, and quite possibly getting you killed. Wraith mentally scratched out possibly. It WOULD get you killed, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but inevitably, you would die.
He allowed himself a small yawn, his viper fangs flicking forward and giving a small, almost imperceptible shudder. He stretches to his maximum height of 8 foot 7, his long lanky killer whale body melting seamlessly into muscular carbon-black kangaroo legs. He reached into his duffel bag and pulled out his plasmasabre, giving a small satisfied smile as he gazed upon its sleek, mercurial handle. This was his most prized possession, far and away to him worth more than the ship he was riding on. There was only ever one plasmasabre per Axl per time. Each one was handcrafted by its user, and could only ever be used by its creator, for part of the building process required a deepwater crystal only found on the Axl home world of Cetacea, and that crystal grew genetically bonded to the person who set it into the weapon. Wraith gave the back of the handle an almost imperceptible stroking to the back of the weapon. The air in the room seemed to almost itself ignite as the blade of ionized gas flashed out from the hilt, seeming to slice the air itself in half. He gave the handle a swish, the magnetic fields holding the blade in place humming audibly as the florescent blade crackled and spit through the air.
Satisfied that everything seemed to be working, he rubbed the Handle in the opposite direction with a small, almost imperceptible flick, the blade seeming to melt back into the air from which it had sprung. He glanced at his timepiece before reaching back into the bag, pulling out pieces of his Tritanium armor, donning it and making sure everything was nice and tight. A small heads up display came up before each of his 4 eyes, each reading off different lines of info as the armor did a status check on itself. He smiled softly to himself. Before exciting his room, the gecko pads on his feet clicking softly as he walked down the smooth hallway towards the Briefing room. Planet fall would be starting soon....
The Briefing Room was packed with Auto-Loader crew, Drop Pod teams, Security Personal, Medical Teams on standby, Officers of every possible rank and position, even the Janitor was here, leaving no doubt that this mission was going to be bigger than Wraith originally thought. The room was so loud with the hum of activity that a telepath who dropped his mental barrier for even a second would have his brain melt and pour out of his ears like so much candle wax. Races of nearly every species chattering back and forth, some of them arguing quite violently over what to expect down there and what equipment to take. Suddenly a hush came over the gathering, as amid the cacophony of sounds and smells, slithering in-between the fumes of Acetylene, the sounds of the autoloader crew preparing the Drop Pods, and the sickly-sweet smell of medical equipment being sterilized, came the faint smell of roses. A tall sleek Shana'ri stepped up the podium, her long lupine body seeming to move almost like a breeze as she wrapped her four hands around the podium and she gazed out into the assembled masses, sweeping her eyes over their own expectant eyes. "Alright boys and girls, and those in-between," she purred with a voice like silk with an industrial-grade diamond undertone, "we got ourselves a live one. The planets atmosphere is blocking all our sensory equipment, so we know jack squat about what you will find down there. All we know it is that it swallowed up 3 teams without so much as a vapor trail left of them, so assuming the world is hostile is not only a reasonable assumption, its almost a guarantee."She Pauses and grumbled with annoyance, her fur shifting from pure white to pinkish-red around the edges to reflect her emotional state, wishing she could give her crew more on which to go on. "Sorry I don't have anything more I can tell you. So get out of here and report to your stations, your data links have all been updated with your locations and partners"
Slowing, almost grudgingly, the crowds dispersed to their stations, with Wraith heading down the corridor towards the Drop Pod. Wraith stepped into the grey oval SX9 Orbit to Surface Personnel Delivery System (OSPDS), opening his duffel bag and placing his S-205 "Reaper" assault rifle next to him, giving the door the command to seal with the push of a button. He focused on what he had been taught during his training, wrapping his left and right flipper-paws around their respective control-sticks. At his sensed touch, lights illuminated the inside of the pod in a soft glow and the HUDs flickered on, each displaying a different display. "Command: open voice channel one" he spoke into his mike, causing a small clicking noise as it went thru with his command. "This is channel one, go ahead," came the voice into his ear. "This is Drop Pod Six One Niner Niner Three Alpha, ready to drop and hop" "Roger Drop Pod Six One Niner Niner Three Alpha, you are authorized for drop. Be warned, planets atmosphere might mess with your guidance system, be prepared to switch to manual in a nano's notice." There was a dim hum that slowly grew all around him, and the brief sensation of movement as his pod was transferred to "The Chute", as it was often called. Wraith winced and had to force himself to relax, he hated this part. The Chute was actually a modified rail gun, designed to shoot people instead of projectiles. A timer popped up on the corner of his Hud, rapidly ticking down towards zero, the hum growing louder and louder all the while. Seemingly just as soon as the countdown started, it hit zero . there was a colossal noise, like being next to a thunder strike as the pod was accelerated away.
Smoke filled the air, causing Wraith to gasp out. Something had gone wrong with the drop, he knew it. The oval structure, designed to protect its cargo during atmospheric entry, was rapidly filling up with toxic fumes! Wraith scrambled around the interior, searching for something. This shouldn't be happening, he though. He had been on millions of drops and the retro thrusters should have fired to slow his impact, and there should have been an energy shield surrounding him in case the thrusters failed. His paw flippers wrapped around what he was seeking, and he gave it a quick hard pull. he found himself tumbling as the ejection system activated, crashing down to the ground hard enough to suck the air out of his lungs. His lungs shrieked for breath, and he took big gulps of it as he steadied himself on the ground, his pulse screaming through his veins as he looked up. He was lucky to be alive, his pod had flipped upside down midflight and the retro thrusters had fired, ramming him into the ground like a cannon shot. If the energy shield had failed to absorb the impact, he would have been scattered all over the planet. Pin-Points of lights drew his eyes skywards. More drop pods were incoming, but something seemed wrong with all of them. They were coming in too fast and at the wrong angles, and they were all enveloped in a faint purple glow. That's not the shields, he thought, those are gold in color. One after another, they impacted the ground so hard he could feel the ground shake under him, sending up mushroom cloud-sized dust clouds. His hand shot out and pushed the send button on his com-device, "This is Drop Pod Six One Niner Niner Three Alpha, Respond if you're alive, give me a sign of life!"His com sent back nothing but static.I repeat, this is Drop Pod Six One Niner Niner Three Alpha, Respond if you're alive, give me a sign of life!" again, his com device cracked with static. Wraith, not knowing what else he could do, ripped the survival kit out of ruined, smoldering ruin of a pod along with his weapon and started towards the closest crash site.