Welcome...

[Arohkien]

Once again I reiterate this is a mature rated role play. I cannot predict what will happen in here as I hope this is a long term role play of many ways for the plot to develop. But try to maintain a steady post order, you may post twice but no more until all the role players have posted. This idea is common Etiquette. ^.^ Other than that, enjoy! Also not all post are expected to be this long, this is just the introduction of the place ^.^

The Martian terrain was silent except for a silent hum in the distant and billowing clouds of red dust being picked up. The sky was bright with a blue hue, though a purple hinge along the horizons. The world was like a giant wasteland, almost void of any living organism but the two combating races that have been creating the world a battleground. Both sides cut off from any form of communication from the major fleets that were supposedly fighting it out above, but the only problem was… a battle of that scale couldn’t of token 10 years now, without any trace of fallen debris or any other sign of communication or fighting. Something has happened and they do not know entirely what has caused any form of malfunction in the communication arrays as well. It was odd indeed. The hum began to close in the deserted valley ahead; the metallic hovering tank sped along the surface of the terrain at an incredible speed.

The tank itself was that color of the United Coalition of Freedom, UCF for short, the metallic orange color glistened in the bright rays of the distant sun. The tank was formed into a sleek aerodynamic form of a shield with a turret sticking out on top, holding the same oval, sleek form that the rest of the body held. The blue fire of the engines dimmed down slowly as the tank began to slow down gradually to a weary stance, pivoting and shifting the torso of the ship in side way directions. The turret was formed with the body and to move the cannon the hover craft had to strafe and turn, though the ship was in itself very deadly and agile so it had no problems doing so, the most skilled pilots flew these ships as it took much practice and expertise to fly these mobile arsenals of death.

“Red Company, do you copy?” a male voice was broad casted over the channels full of static. “Do you read me Red?” the voice repeated over the radio signals again. There was still the stubborn force of silence.

“Damn it all! How the hell did everyone get separated! This is aggravating…” he spoke to himself, after turning off the voice communications array in the ship, leaving his receiving channels open for any signals or calls of help. He kept his active radars on for a second longer before switching them back to the passive stance, keeping his tank virtually undetectable unless it was in line of site.

The Jovian’s were a deadly alien race with a mysterious history behind them, though full capabilities of the human language, they forsaken that language for the act of their own peaceful under spoken words of an unfamiliar tongue. Though for some reason they had initiated the conflict between the humans or so they thought currently, nothing much good anyway who ever started the conflicts.

‘Orange Squad, please respond! Orange squad please respond!’ A quick and fear filled voice shrieked over the inter comms of the ships, ‘Please respond to coordinates 56.34.53. My squad is under attack! Please assist us if possible!’

“I knew it was them! Damn it all to hell!” he cursed under his breath, flicking his outgoing signals and switching to active radar, “This is Orange Leader, I read you loud and clear, hang in there Red, we are on our way!” His voice was emitted over the channels once more, his tank switching to the coordinates as the engines flared with an amazing neon blue haze as it blasted the ship into speed towards the location. During this he worried if any of his men have made it and heard the call, when suddenly a familiar voice rang through the comms once more.

“This is Lieutenant of OS, I and the majority of the squad are on our way! T-2 minutes!”

This sent relief through the soldier as he doubled his efforts in reaching the location. Soon he could see the flashes and the explosions ahead. This was going to be one hell of a fight. His artillery cannons opening up as his speed once more slowed. He could see the distant red colored ships alike of his style blazing their guns and missile salvos at the black and yellow hued alien ships. The thick cloud of dust of his fellow squad mates came into view, forming into the Arrow formation, the tanks leading the charge and the lighter ships in the back protecting the rear of the artillery vessels. His cannon opened fire upon the enemy now; everything looked grim for them though, this sight of death and carnage didn’t stop him from driving into the fray to save his men and Reds as well.

[k.ixy]

How he'd gotten into this mess, he'd never know. He'd been trying to communicate over the comms for a while, but it just hadn't been working. The static was immense and overwhelming; there was no being heard or hearing anyone else over it. He flipped another switch, adjusting a few knobs and trying to find the problem. Maybe it was his range away from the Orange Company? No, that shouldn't have been the issue. The communications systems between the tanks were extraordinary -- most of the time. He didn't know what the issue was and that bothered him to a very great extent. Another few adjustments and three minutes later, a crackling voice finally came over the static. He couldn't understand it and knew he wouldn't be understood in return, so his minor fixings continued until the static began to gradually diminish.

That was when an explosion occurred. "Dammit. Damn damn damn," The Red Company soldier cursed, making the word a sort of mantra for that moment in time. He reached over, flipping a switch that sent the tank from hovering to a quick round-a-bout movement. He observed all the way around him, determining from the rising of dust in the air where the attack had occurred. It was just outside of their company, and he knew what that meant. Another explosion occurred and suddenly, there was firing from a short distance. Those damn humans.

He found himself moving his tank directly to the front lines, starting to fire at the enemy. Quick and a bit fearful, he hoped the communications that had not agreed with him before were working. "Orange Squad, please respond! Orange squad please respond!" He said, and would have crossed his fingers had his hands not been busy controlling the tank's movements. "Please respond to coordinates 56.34.53. My squad is under attack! Please assist us if possible!" He hadn't really expected there to be an answer, but much to his relief, their came two.

"This is Orange Leader, I read you loud and clear, hang in there Red, we are on our way!" And then another; “This is Lieutenant of OS, I and the majority of the squad are on our way! T-2 minutes!”

He knew that the prospects were grim as the carnage continued. The prospects were always grim when in the front lines of an all out war. Even when he caught sight of the Orange Company joining the fray, he had little hope of this coming out well. But he'd fight to the death and take plenty with him when he did so, so he guessed that might have accounted for something.

[ooc; a bit of suckage and short. ><]

[Arohkien]

It suddenly hit him hard…. They were insanely outnumbered, and weren’t going to survive the fight if they didn’t work a way out of this with minimal loses. He cursed under his breath as his helmet brought up a radar map of the current situation, the green blips on the formed grid of a rough layout of the land around them, noting all the dips and rises, the canyon walls ahead of them and the sunken valley behind, he didn’t know what they were going to do for a moment. His focus being redirected to the battle at hand, his tank giving a burst of thrust to the side, the main cannon opening once more as he fired at the Jovian ships, the blasts coming and going.

Direct hit, the fucker went down in a blazing explosion, the late shots hit another ship that was directly behind the first. He couldn’t help but smirk as the luck of the shot nailed down two enemy scout vehicles. Yes they were light version and model from the idea of a tank, but the scouts were fast, and very deadly, each of the Jovian scout ships held a very high grade particle cannon, that basically ate through any metallic material quickly and effectively, though the downside of the cannon was they had to be a very close proximity to be used. The Jovian ships were versatile as well… as if they ships were made of a living metal that at the command of the Jovian pilots, the ship molds into a secondary form, either a heavier attack ship or a reinforced version carrying a complete new arsenal, though it was risky for them to shift the ships in middle of a fray as such as this.

“Lieutenant, have the scouts of the squad begin deploying the mines, everyone be careful of your piloting!” Orange leader spoke through the voice link calmly and collective. He went into this mode of state of mind when he entered a fray, usually when he fully comprehended what could happen in a blink of an eye. “I want the artillery vessels to begin the retreat, but do not turn your backs to the battle! Unload all those shells into the enemy forces! I want them hurting when we move out!” He ordered once again on all channels, also giving hint to Red of what they need to do.

“Yes sir!” the Lieutenant replied, switching his channels as he gave the orders to the squad mates.

It was the best course of action right now unless they somehow miraculously receive reinforcements, but Blue and Green squads were scouting the opposite ways from the base when they left. And gods knows how far they were from the base as well when they had lost completely all communications to everyone and then got separated.

His ship spun around quickly as he let the machine guns rip through the side of passing speeder, or what he thought was what they called them. He didn’t know, gods, no one knew what was happening anymore. His flipped his audio one once again and spoke through to Red on a private channel. “Red, you know what to do, me and my men will hand here and cover the fall back, your men have sustained enough damage, and we need to try to get away with as few casualties as possible. Unless you got any suggestions?” He spoke, his voice full of concern, but confidence. Red knew him since they were young, when all this crap started to happen. They were in respected high ranks for a reason, and he wasn’t going to see his friend, or his squads get obliterated anytime soon.

Though only a second after he spoke that, huge spirals of flame and plasma shot up in the ground scattered all over the landscape, and set off at a perfect time as well, he knew that handy work was one of his men. The flames tore through passing Jovian ships, the plasma acting like small hand grenades as they exploded to whatever it attached to. He had to thank that scouts for their successful movement to knock out the ships forces. He smiled softly then opened all communications again.

Suddenly a voice broke over the radio hectically “Commander! There are more of them! I got them on my long range scanners! IF we don’t get out of here were all screwed!”

“All forces begin procedure A-9 Omega!” a commonly practiced retreat tactic, used, but only for emergencies like this one that they seemed too outnumbered and they themselves were beginning to lose ships… and that was unacceptable. Everyone knew what to do, though he was still hopefully waiting for Red’s suggestion to keep the enemy at bay.

What seemed like hours now… were only a matter of seconds.

[k.ixy]

Dead center. A smug grin crossed his face, however briefly, as the blast from his canon landed directly on a Jovian ship. He didn't let it effect him other than that brief flash of a smile as he let loose fire again at another of the enemies. It wasn't a hit as he'd hoped, but the Red Commander didn't think much of it. He went on firing, hitting another ship when aiming at that missed one again. It didn't matter; taking out one was as good as taking out the other.

The seconds seemed to drag on forever. He hated times like this, though he wished he could have such a clarity of mind the rest of the day. Battle gave him such a crystal-clear clarity that kept him from panicking, and instead allowed him to see perfectly the options available to him. And right now, there weren't many options open. They could hold the enemy at bay, and take a good number of casualties doing so because they were already so outnumbered. Or they could retreat, and by doing so hopefully save their own asses.

A string of curses fell carelessly from his lips as he let loose on an enemy coming straight for him. A scout ship, he assumed, looking to get within range to shoot him. Which meant that more were close to his ship, because the pilot shouldn't have been stupid enough to take him on alone -- big ship against little ship equals big ship always winning. More fire power and longer range; it just made sense. He turned his ship around in a circle quickly, firing on two more scout ships and scaring off a third before he was facing his original direction again.

The announcement went out over the comms from the Orange Leader concerning the arsenal, and Red Leader took the hint, quickly picking up on their course of action. He did another fast turn around, firing on another enemy ship in the process but using the movement to survey the damage to his squad. There was a good amount of it, most of it having happened before the Orange Squad had arrived. "Artillery, you heard the command. Begin retreat but you damn well better fire while you're doing so," He remarked to his own squad over the comms, not taking into account the fact that he was being redundant of Orange's orders. Sometimes that was a good thing.

He had been a second away from responding to Orange Leader on the private channel when the blasts and spirals of flames shot into the enemy forces. His attention was held by it for a mere second, watching the damage Jovian forces took from the blast. Then the announcement of their reinforcements drifted into his ears. "Son of a bitch," Red muttered, then switched to the private channel again just after the command to commence A-9 Omega. "I'd only suggest holding the enemy at bay if we had a chance of survival in doing so," He remarked, almost a little solemnly. He enjoyed the thrill and rush of adrenaline that battle brought on, but not at the cost of his and, most importantly, his men's, friend's, and friend's men's lives. "A-9 Omega is our only choice."

He shook his head slightly, carefully falling into the procedure of retreat as had been practiced. What a shame. If those blasted Jovians hadn't decided that they needed reinforcements when they had ambushed them anyway, he'd have no problem staying and toughing the battle out.

[Nox Aeterna]

'All forces begin procedure A-9 Omega!'

The sound resonated from the depths of the Jovian comm link, a broken, hollow sound that had been picked up from the bug which scouts had planted in the Orange company's transmitter before the ambush. A previous battle had provided a sufficient distraction and gave them the opportune window to commence their plan. Otherwise, the ambush might not have gone so smoothly. The Jovians had known exactly where the two companies would be at exactly what time, and, planning an attack around this information, had found the best way to cripple the two human factions. The others would be dealt with later, while the humans were so intent on repairing these two.

And now the humans were playing out the next phase of this lovely little slaughter for them.

The Jovian overlord, known as Vesh'Ral Kurzim, carefully listened to the panicked transmissions resounding from the human tanks, his black eyes fixated on the glowing screen that indicated not only the location of his enemies, but also the position, number, and status of any given unit under his command. And, according to the twenty blinking dots that lined the ridge to the south side of the battle, the new units were ready to launch a second, more devastating assault on the squadrons of humans.

As the terrified tanks fled the battlefield, heading directly into the ridge where the twenty stealthed units waited as Vesh'Ral had planned. It was, of course, unavoidable, since every other direction was cut off by the Jovian ships. As the red and orange vehicles skimmed into the dusty ravine, the Xarnim remained utterly still. As commanded, they wouldn't move until the tanks were well into the long canyon and unable to escape. As the machines continued through the chasm, crossing a non-existent line that the Xarnim were programmed to see before they had set out, all at once the ridges came to life as the alien units leapt from the crimson stone, unable to sustain their invisibility while moving. Their bodies were altered to be able to run as fast as any ship (usually faster), and their forearms were lined with a martian alloy that not only conducted energy, but also amplified it, and a genetic mutation caused their arms to grow in a blade-like form. These things, paired with their ability to remain unseen while motionless and the anabolic enhancements that allowed them to travel at insane speeds, they became the most lethal killing machines.

And now, twenty of these beasts were falling from the air above the tanks, a few hitting their marks and ripping into the hulls with the ease of water through air. Their horned heads, a metallic blue with some intermingled yellow, were long and treacherous, resembling some abyssal breed of triceratops, though the gnashing fangs that dripped with what one could assume was venom were unlike any herbivore that ever existed. Some of the pilots fell victim to these gaping jaws, while others were slain by the glowing blades that had shredded through the outer shells of their tanks. Either way, about twelve of the beasts had already found their marks and were dashing toward the rest, while the others were pouncing their targets for the first time, having come up from behind the squads.

'Excellent...' hissed Vesh'Ral in the depths of his underground hive, his eyes seeing the event transpire on the screens before him. It was all playing out wonderfully.

[Arohkien]

His nerves were jarred by a helpless scream from one of his pilots. He felt a chill run up his spine as he was the first one into the ravine. This wasn’t good, not at all.

“Ambush!” Another pilot yelled in helplessness as the Jovian’s tore through his ship and cockpit, shredding his suit, instantly killing him as the Jovian’s were the only ones who could sustain life and there form under the supreme conditions of the outer planets, the humans relying on decompression suits and buildings created to form their own gravity and atmosphere for them to breath and live outside of the suits.

His tank tilted heavily to one side as one of the Jovian warriors tagged his ship. He cursed under his breath pivoting his ship and tipping and turning trying to get him to fall. This was going horribly. His eyes trying to take in everything and anything, trying to find a way to avoid more losses including his own life. Suddenly it hit him, he flipped his comms to all units in the available area and shouted an almost incredulous order to the pilots, but it was the only way for the some to survive.

“All pilots if there is a alien on your ship and you can’t neutralize, eject and jet pack to the HQ!” He ordered firmly, it was nothing no one can get out of his hands now. The pods though that the ejecting ships would have would be far too fast for the Jovian’s to be able to get a target or even the range fast enough to destroy the pods as they were shot into the sky with fierce speed, the remaining corpse of the ship would automatically self destruct, killing and destroying the alien on the ship, it was almost the only way to kill them now.

He began to hear a deep resounding ‘thunk’ and screech as the armor of his tank was pierced. His couldn’t get the alien on his ship to fall, nothing was preventing him to get him any farther, but he was stubborn and was refusing to hit that button that would send him into the empty atmosphere of the planet, seeing the destruction of everyone. He will not stand for that!

He saw two more ships under his command self destruct, killing a few more of the warriors, the pilots, safely on there way back to the base, hopefully he would see them there soon. He released a few volleys of his turret into another ship, having to strafe the ship until he shredded it into a piece of scrap. He growled under his breath as another screeching sound came from his tank.

Rage and unbridled anger began to rise in his throat, clouding his mind. He wasn’t going to fail! He wasn’t going to lose! He won’t let his men suffer from his orders. The sight of the destruction of a few more ships of his own, that were unable to eject were only a catalyst as he felt his grip on the controls tighten even more.

One shot, two shots, some odd more, it just added up, both sides losing their comrades, the men of his own screaming as he saw a warriors slice through the cockpits. The sight of the blood splattering the glass was the final straw, his anger tore loose, giving a guttural roar over the comms unknowingly as he unleashed all of his guns upon the Jovian, obliterating the creature to nothing but a pool of blood and pieces. His ship swung around furiously as he just let everything go, blasting through the enemies almost carelessly as his gun retorts caused the Jovian warrior that was attached to his ship to shudder at the immense sound. The machine guns unloaded round after round, spraying across the enemies, hitting anything he could.

Another screech could be heard from the back of his mind as he ruthlessly tore through the enemy, falling to the back of his ships to cover their escape, the forward ships pushing through equally ruthlessly, the anger seemed to have spread, the Orange Squads ranks were becoming enraged with the loss and defeat in their hearts and minds, they were not going to go down alone.

They were almost out of the valley on the other side, under an archway from the mountains, the ships that gotten free of the warriors began kicking in there micro-warp drives, pushing the ships at incredible speeds, a new addition to the fleet ships to add to their agility, which had served another purpose to save lives.

They might just make it! They just might.

A blast shook him out of his blind rage, realizing how far behind he just gotten while he hampered the enemies effort at trying to get to the rest of his men. A terrible screech could be heard as the blast of a cannon retort from a fellow tank, nailing the warrior off with its plasma shell. Though this caused the Jovian's blade like appendages to tear through his ship’s hull. The haze of anger left as he began retreating once more as he watched the valley behind them swarm with enemy ships, the number they had there was shocking… almost unnecessary. They needed to find a way to halt the chase of the aliens, long enough so they can escape out of their radar range… but how?

He turned his ship around. Looking over to the comrade who had helped him hoping to see who he thought it was, his thoughts still giving him confidence in him and his men... as well as his friends.

They just, might, make it.

[Nox Aeterna]

As the Xarnim were shaken off, occasionally being slain by the scattered shots of a panicking human, they took to leaping from the mangled tanks with terrifying strength, landing with a trembling thud on the red soil of the chasm. Seven had been killed, and as the other thirteen fell into place in the huddle, the whole group began sprinting in a raptor-like fashion at the fleeing ships, some taking to the air again with their forceful leaps, only to smash down a little ways in front of the rest of the group to commence their charge. Each one hunched forward, holding their forelimbs back and out of the way of their lithe, almost skeletal figure as they ripped through the canyon at speeds that the tanks couldn't match with normal jets. As the Xarmin closed the gap between themselves and the humans, some took to running along the walls of the chasm, their clawed feet tearing into the thick rock and propelling them with blurring speed toward the tanks. Proceeding this little display, the wall-mounted Xarnim kicked off at almost the same time, raining down on the tanks that were falling behind, some hitting their mark, while the rest fell into the ranks of the running. It was somewhat obvious this was little more than a fright tactic to keep them running, but taking out a few more was a good extra bit too. The distance closed, bringing the whole pack within ten yards of the human squad.

The rest of the Jovian ships were a ways behind the Xarnim, but they too still pressed furiously into the canyon, firing rounds at any human ship they could manage to hit, though their aim could have been better. Three more Xarnim fell to the terrified blasts of the humans before all at once, the Xarnim came to a gradual halt at the end of the canyon. The ships that were some yards behind them stopped as well, their cannons no longer hailing the humans with scorching plasma bolts, and all together, the two swarms turned back and began their return.

'Perfect,' hissed Vesh'Ral with a sick delight, his eyes fixated on the screens before him. The initial test of the Xarnim had gone exquisitely. He loosed his incectoid body from the control pod, which was embedded in the wall opposite the screens. First his arms slid from the biomechanical folds, the cords that directly connected to his nervous system removing themselves from his body, before his legs followed in much the same fashion, save for coming from a single slot. His body was coated in a slimy fluid where his limbs were held in the machine, and as he stepped away from the pod, he stretched his arms, regaining full use of his muscles and returning his nerves to working order. He stood about eight feet tall, his terrible horned head perched on spiked shoulders. The spines on his back flexed as he willed them to, returning from their place, folded down on his back, to their normal position.

His steps fell heavily on the stone floor of the hive as he proceeded from the heart of the structure, exiting through a biologically mutated door into the main chamber of the lair. His four legs ended in terrible spikes that stabbed into whatever they happened to be walking on at the time, almost spider-like, but laced with thick muscle that held his upper body with ease. He followed the corridor until he came through another arching doorway, this one void of a living door. He crossed the huge stone bridge, beneath which lay the virtually endless spawning pit, and entered into the winding tunnels which wove their way through the entire hive.

Ripping through the crude stone hallways, Vesh'Ral followed the instinctive path he knew, rounding the corners of the twisted path until he came to the surface, his black eyes becoming silver as they adjusted to the red martian sunlight. The exit he chose led to a rather large balcony sort of structure that overlooked the chasm which had been adapted to a docking area where the ships were soon to be returning. The Xarnim could already be seen entering into the narrow cleft in the rocky surface, heading into the large cave. They now moved at a slower pace, something of a walk, as they collected in the pits below. Vesh'Ral stared at them with blazing pride.

'Well done, my warriors,' he said to them, his growling voice resounding in the depths of their minds. Each stopped for a moment, taking the time to turn around, meet his eyes, and release a terrible, guttural sort of sound that indicated acknowledgment, before they slipped into the depths of the hive. As the actual ships returned, Vesh'Ral watched silently, his eyes narrowing a bit.

He had lost more than anticipated.

When the entirety of his squadrons had returned to the subterranean lair, their monstrous leader returned to the winding passageways, making his way to the hangar. He hadn't been prepared to lose quite so many ships. The sound of landing aircraft filled the air with a roaring sound as he approached the huge sinkhole that opened the hangar to air units. The bluish ships began filing into the countless holes in the orange stone wall, the ground units skittering into the caves near the floor of the hangar, the rest positioning themselves perfectly before sliding into the higher ports. The Jovian drones, divided into the Kishrud-Yrn and the Kishrud-Vel (the former indicating the normal, ground-based form, while the latter is the name of the ones mutated to grow wings and tend to aerial units), began scuttling through the main part of the hangar, inspecting the ships as they came in, occasionally following the heavily damaged ones into whichever port they entered. Some of the Xarnim tarried for a moment before entering into the largest port, which led to the main part of the hive.

'So the humans have gotten better?' Vesh'Ral considered silently as his units filed away. 'Perhaps this war will last longer than anticipated...