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Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Jan 8, 2023 4:31:28 GMT
Date: 30 January 2979, 0900 hours Military Standard Time
Location: Taggart's Point Joint Military Installation, Babd Catha Ice Shelf, Eposz, Reach, Epsilon Eridani System, Terran Confederation
Eliza stared out through the window across the glistening ice, briefly reflecting on how she had arrived where she now stood. It was hardly the first time she had been to Taggart's Point, but the past nine months, Reach had been her home, and by now, the installation felt very different than it had prior to her donning the uniform of the Terran Confederation Marine Corps. Briefly, she wondered what might have followed had she enlisted all those centuries ago, but promptly brought her focus back to the present. Fortunately, she'd left her quarters early, and had arrived at Major Howell's office with more than enough time to relax, but seeing that it was nearly time to report, she turned to walk to the man's door, then knocked once to announce her presence.
"Enter," came the response from within, and Eliza opened the door to enter, halting a few steps from the Major's desk, then snapped a crisp salute.
"Good morning, sir. Lance Corporal Lockheed, reporting as ordered." That still felt strange to Eliza, as in all her life until less than a year ago, she had not been truly beholden to orders, per se. There had only been industry regulations and contractual obligations and the laws that governed the general public. Orders had taken getting used to, but the Witch was nothing if not adaptable.
"At ease," Major Howell answered as he returned the salute. "And close the door, please." A remarkably inconspicuous man, Gerald Howell had initially began his service as an enlisted man, serving during the latter years of the first Kromus War. As a result, his word carried a considerable weight for a mere Major, though it was seldom that he needed to use such influence. DAW tended to treat its people well, or as well as any soldiers could be expected, at any rate.
Eliza briefly scanned the office, noting the relatively spartan touch the officer seemed to favor as she closed the door, then returned to her place to stand at parade rest.
"Alright then, I've got an assignment for you, Lockheed. You can take a seat if you like," he added as he produced a datapad, then held it out to Eliza to take. "We've been getting a good deal of intel, and it looks like a critical matter. Turns out, though, you're already familiar with the subject, so you were selected to see to this mission," Howell explained while Eliza read through the files.
Eliza didn't react visibly, but her thoughts were less than pleased as she saw particular words. TX-611 stood out, along with "parasitic xenoform" and one word she hadn't seen or heard of in the context the briefing used since the days of the United Nations Space Command. Banished.
"Do you have any questions so far, Corporal?" the Major asked idly.
"Just the one, sir. It can wait until you've finished briefing me, though."
"Very well. As you can see, this mission will be high risk, and to that end, I've managed to requisition you some assistance. ARC-Nine is a fairly new unit, but they're among the best of the new ÆSIR classes we've got. Their orders are to assist in the mission, but make no mistake, their chain of command still stays with them, so bear that in mind. I realize you're no stranger to dangerous missions, but this isn't a lone wolf hunter op, and the last thing any of us needs is extremely valuable operators butting heads. If you need things done, suggest to their squad leader, let him handle the rest. You'll find their files in the mission brief packet right there. I don't think I need to explain just how serious this mission is. We have our hands full with the Kromus as it is. We're counting on you to root out any more of these nests, isolate them, and if necessary, destroy them yourselves. Hopefully, that last part can be handled by fleet elements, but war grants no promises. Understood?"
"Aye sir. I understand the mission," Eliza replied.
"So, what was your question that could wait?" he asked expectantly.
"Sir, this mission brief mentions the Banished. I was under the impression that they had disbanded before the Terran Confederation was even formed.
"It would appear that is not the case. There's some indications that they're the 'alternative arrangements' the Border Worlds were referring to when the Federation offered them membership. They're relevant to your mission, however, because they very well may have access to further intelligence regarding where the bounty hunter that caused the spread of these creatures may have visited after leaving TX-611. Anywhere he landed may be under threat of more nests."
"Understood, sir."
"Report down to the airfield by 1300. There's a Prowler waiting to transport you and ARC-Nine to Ek'noz Station. There's some chance it can be cleared out, given that we've yet to receive any reports that these things are capable of using weapons. The main thing we need, though, is more intel on just what in God's name these things are, and where they came from. I trust that you and ARC-Nine are more than up to the task."
"Aye sir. We won't let you down," Eliza promised.
"I hope not. You're dismissed," Major Howell replied, exchanging another brief salute before Eliza turned on her heel to exit and close the door.
"Well, that's jist fuckin' brilliant.." Eliza muttered under her breath as she locked the datapad and started back to her quarters. It wouldn't take her long to pack, but she wanted to have that done before she headed to the armory to collect her suit. She'd been told the VISR systems and a few other components had needed updates, but she'd yet to actually see just what all that entailed. It wasn't that she didn't trust the techs, given they regularly worked on ÆSIR armor. It was simply that her armor was as much an expression of herself as an invaluable tool for high-risk operations, in ways that even the MJOLNIR suits the Spartans of old used weren't to their operators. She hadn't merely customized her suit, after all. Every component, every plate of armor had been crafted by her hand. Certainly, updates had been needed, but she needed to fully familiarize herself with those updates before the mission truly began. At least it would give her time to read up on who her comrades were to be.
The series of boot falls and tapping of titanium nanolaminated armor plates could be heard as the six set of soldiers clad in full ÆSIR armors crossed the tarmac toward the Prowler that awaited them. Each had a pair of carry cases in addition to the weapons already mag-locked to the back plates of their armors, and despite the nature of the equipment carried inside, they behaved as if the weight was nothing at all.
"So instead of a Gen One ÆSIR who knew what he was doing, we're getting some green corporal from Intel?"
"Stow the attitude, Eedee," came the reprimanding toned words as Markus didn't miss a beat as he stepped up the loading ramp of the Prowler. "Dossier said she's a former mercenary who was at the original infestation point of these things, so it's not some greenfly who is being sent as fresh meat."
As he shifted his load, Serge sighed from behind his helmet. "Captain Orman wouldn't send us on some cakewalk bug hunt, nor would he send us off to some suicide run without a very good reason."j
"Vice Admiral Borjigin would have his hide for how much DAW put into us if that happened," Faala commented from the rear of their group. Her VISR was already synching with the Prowler' operating system as soon as they boarded, the Macro AI loaded into her armor's network beginning the prep work so they could launch and hurry to their needed destination. "I'm actually curious about this Lance Corporal Lockheed. Isn't that the lady who was running one of the ship contractors up until a year or so ago?"
A nod from Markus just before he set his equipment cases in the cargo hold. "Arcanus Military Industries produced some smaller ships for the fleet and also a number of the Federation's warships for the SDF. There was apparently some flap about her doing bounty work, and she stepped down from their board. Seems she's got a penchant for intelligence work and wanted to do her part with the war."
Her own equipment set aside before making her way to the front cabin, Faala sat herself in the main pilot seat and began pulling up launch protocols while the rest of their unit settled in for what was undoubtedly going to be a long trip. "Engines warming up, ready to go as soon as Lance Corporal Lockheed gets here."
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Jan 22, 2023 0:11:21 GMT
Eliza stared impatiently from the outside of the armory cage, silently wondering how exactly it was that a simple arms and equipment pull could take the better part of an hour. At least it hadn't been anything so insufferable as doubt as to her clearance, she mused. All but one item was gear that had been stored under her name, albeit while she had been in training. There'd been a brief moment how questioning how a mere Lance Corporal outright owned a set of power armor, but as it hadn't been relevant to the fact that the armor, along with the weapons, had been recorded under her name by no less than DAW Materials Group personnel, it had been more of a curiosity that Eliza hadn't felt interested in indulging.
"Corporal Lockheed?" a young tech called from behind the cage, interrupting Eliza's idle clacking of the receipt chit for the Grappleshot module she'd purchased for installation into her gauntlet armor.
"Aye?" she replied, wondering if there had been some sort of complication.
"I need you to follow me for suiting. This way, please," he explained, opening the door that separated the arms room from the rest of the building, then motioned Eliza to follow him inside. "Your armor is too heavy to be moved with a hand cart, and we need to monitor you while you suit up."
Eliza resisted the urge to roll her eyes, having donned her armor a number of times without anyone other than Veska to observe. "That's na th' only reason I'm bein' brought back this way, is it?" she guessed as they walked to the back of the arms room, then halted in front of a featureless metal door with a security panel beside it. The tech said nothing, but simply touched the panel, prompting the door to slide open to reveal a surprisingly large room lined with containment pods. As Eliza walked deeper inside, she could see that the pods held suits of ÆSIR armor, or were empty. The tech halted in front of one pod, then gestured to it.
"Get suited up, the Major will be with you shortly," he stated as Eliza stepped towards the pod. Within was her own armor, largely untouched since the last time she'd seen it, though the Confed emblem had been stenciled on the right pauldron in subdued colors, and "LOCKHEED" had been similarly stenciled across a three-inch portion of the upper left of the chestplate. Eliza gave a curt nod, then opened a panel at the base of the pod, surmising that the deployment collars of her techsuit would be held there, and allowed herself a faint smile as she was proven correct.
It didn't take long for Eliza to don her armor, in large part due the her need to have armor that didn't require highly specialized equipment to don or remove, though her intimate familiarity with every square centimeter of the suit surely hadn't hurt. The weight felt slightly off with the addition of the Grappleshot module affixed to the outer section of her right gauntlet, perpendicular to the particle beam cannon she'd built by reverse-engineering a Machine Empire carbine, but the artificial muscle layer of her armor helped to make it negligible. She'd simply need to grow accustomed to the additional weight, she knew.
"Someone was busy.." she remarked idly to herself after sliding on her helmet and locking it in its seals and allowing the suit's BIOS to power on. Code streamed across her HUD, displaying system diagnostics, including some notable additions to her communications and navigation programs. Ultimately, it was a software update, but one that made her suit no longer simply a hunter's armor, but a soldier's.
"Corporal," the voice of Major Howell echoed across the stark chamber, and Eliza immediately turned on her heel and snapped to attention, only to be waived off before she could salute. "At ease, Lockheed. There's been an addendum to your mission profile," he explained. Eliza didn't say anything, expecting that Howell would do so soon. "Regarding Ek'noz Station, if the creatures are too heavily entrenched, your mission is to extract the station's data core and destroy the station." Motioning to a small metal hardcase resting on an anti-grav cart, he stared into the reflective visor of Eliza's helmet. "This change came thirty minutes ago, so ARC-Nine hasn't yet been briefed. I expect you to see that they are aware of this. I pulled a lot of strings to get this team on your mission, Lockheed."
"Understood, sir. I'll be makin' my way ta th' Prowler once I have th' rest of my weapons. Sir, one last question?"
"Yes?"
"I was informed Veska would na be accompanyin' me on this mission. Do ye know why?"
"I would imagine that the Materials Group is studying her, given the unusual design involved, and implications regarding military hardware," he answered. "But I don't know exactly why. I suppose you're welcome to try asking after your mission."
Eliza frowned slightly, but said nothing. She didn't especially like that particular situation, but there really wasn't anything she could do about it. "Understood, sir. Any additional orders?"
"If you need to extract the data core and destroy the station, your next standing orders are to return to Reach with the data core so we can analyze potential infestation sites. If you're unable to retrieve that data, we'll have no choice but to negotiate with the Banished. That is all." With that, Major Howell turned on his heel and made his way back to his office, leaving Eliza to collect the remainder of her weapons, all stored on a rack behind the pod that had contained her suit.
Eliza paused as she eyed the Havok she'd been assigned to safeguard, and very likely deploy, then hefted the hardcase in one hand, as the maglocks on the back of her armor were currently occupied by her own personal hardcase, containing no small amount of spare ammunition, as well as no less than half a dozen grenades of various types and several breaching charges. With the paperwork already done, she didn't need to stay any longer than it took to walk through the arms room and out of the DAW armory. Reaching the airfield, however, still took time, and it was nearly 1300 by the time the armor clad woman set foot on the boarding ramp of the Prowler.
"Lance Corporal Eliza Lockheed," she stated as she saw the first of the members of ARC-Nine, pausing to check her HUD to see who she was addressing. "Chief Bram. I'm told ye and yer team are one of th' best we've got. I hope I'll be worth th' bother," she added before stepping further inside into the cargo hold to secure her gear. "Incidentally, how much have ye and yer people been informed as far as th' mission objective? My briefin' was by myself."
Markus nodded his acknowledgment to the new arrival as he heard Faala working in the cockpit to get them going. "The brief we got was that we're doing some biohazard containment at the old station in the Ek'noz system, some unidentified life form apparently got aboard a few years ago, and went full invasive after communication went silent." He paused a moment as the rear cargo hatch retracted upward and gave a heavy clank upon locking against the hell and sealing. "Intel suspects that they have something to do with the things found on FS611-d, full quarantine and purge protocol."
"I still say that just firing a Shiva at the station will clean it up if the population is already dead," came the smarmy comment from Edea as she seated herself in the locking rack. "Less risk to us and a lot less chance of something hitchhiking with us out of there."
"We need the transport records and destination logs to make sure we can trace anywhere else these things may have gotten to, DeSand."
The young woman flinched for a brief moment. It wasn't often that Markus referred to any of them by anything other than their first names. Not even by their program serial numbers. "Point. That's why you made squad com, and I just snipe shit."
The Prowler rumbled before Markus could give a retort, forcing him to stumble briefly and steady himself against the bulkhead. "Faala, what's our ETA once we hit open space?"
"About five days by slipdrive." The younger member of ARC-Nine looked back as her HUD was running the navigational calculations. "We have a couple long line jump corridors that can cut down travel time, but it's still over three hundred parsecs from Sol Sector. NAVCOM will do the jump calculations once we hit the first line, should cut half the travel time off, and we can be there in about two and a half days."
A nod from their squad leader, before he finally caught sight of the metal safety case that had been brought aboard with Lockheed's gear. The Macro AI in his armor silently gave him a text message across the HUD, alerting him to the device inside. "I don't recall the briefing mentioning us taking a Havok tac-mine in there. You have an update for us, Corporal?"
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Jan 25, 2023 17:41:06 GMT
Eliza perked an eyebrow as she listened to the members of ARC-Nine speak, though she said nothing, and with her faceplate hiding her expression, there was no way to tell just what the woman was thinking. Something felt off about how young the team sounded, but she set that train of thought aside for the time being. A five-day Slip jump would leave plenty of time enough for that. Instead, she gave a short nod and hastily seated herself before the Prowler could take off. Young supersoldier pilots sounded like exactly the sort that would gun the engines hard enough to put Eliza on her ass if she were foolish enough to still be standing when takeoff started.
"Some things really are universal," she muttered when, not even a full minute later, she was proven correct. "Command's pretty sure there's a nest on Ek'noz Station, aye," she confirmed. "Given what those creatures are capable of..well, it's na th' Flood, but they're still a critical threat. Strong as hell, fast, hard ta spot, and jist all around unpleasant. Oh, and their blood is some sort of superacid, so shields are yer friends. Th' Yaujta apparently hunt them fer funsies, but that's another bag of crazy that's na relevant unless a hunter team decides th' station is a good place ta visit," she explained. "Major Howell gave me orders ta clear th' station if possible, but unless practically all th' population died conventionally, it's gannin ta be packed ta th' gills wi those bug things. Ta that end, our most likely course is ta go in, pull th' station's data core, plant th' Havok, and exfil. And a suggestion? Have th' AI hold position and board th' station EVA. I doubt any of us want a hitchhiker of our own." Eliza hesitated for a moment as she recalled the additional warning of what potential objectives might be involved, then decided against saying anything about that particular detail. Besides, there wasn't any reason to think ARC-Nine would even be involved in seeking out the Banished to gain access to the dead hunter's black box.
"On another note, does Faala always take off like a bat out of hell, or is this jist fer me?" Eliza wondered.
The junior most member of the fireteam raised a brow under her helmet, then craned her head enough to show she was looking back at their 'guest'. "I'm more used to combat drops and exfils in a Goshawk, big Prowlers are always a little rough on the takeoff."
With a sigh, Markus seated himself, making sure he received any updates to their mission profile before they hit slipspace. "I'm a bit curious as to why a Corporal was assigned to us for this. Normally a bug hunt would rate standard marines or colonial militia, not an ARC team."
"Reviewing the video data associated with the FS611 incident reveal that these lifeforms are hardly what I'd consider just a 'bug hunt'. They display many abnormal traits and capabilities that could give a regular marine unit significant trouble."
"Thank you, Elon." A bit annoyed, but Markus tried to keep it from being too obvious. "Briefing mentioned that there was some kind of hive structure built around the interior of the main colony complex. We should probably expect to see that at Ek'noz if this has been going on since FS611 was last visited."
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Feb 3, 2023 15:59:53 GMT
"Jist takes a bit of practice, that's all," Eliza replied to the pilot, taking care to keep her puzzlement out of her voice. They sounded young enough to be fresh out of training, not one of the top ÆSIR teams in the entire Confed. There were answers to that, of course, she knew, but that was still speculation. "I doubt ye'll need ta practice that much wi a larger bird, given what ye said."
Turning her attention back towards Markus, she listened intently, measuring in her mind how much he'd need to know, and how much he was in fact authorized to know. Her capabilities, why she'd been fast-tracked into DAW's command instead of serving as a standard intelligence specialist for a Marine unit, would become apparent soon enough. "I'm hear coz I'm th' only Confed service member that's been inside a hive and lived, and as such, I have both hard intel on th' creatures and experience wi fightin' them. Assumin' ye saw th' vids, which were fram my helmet recorder, ye'll know they can take down a fully grown and equipped Kromus soldier in close quarters combat. That means our standard jarheids would be gannin into a slaughter. Bear in mind also, they can partially defeat motion trackers, and while our armor can probably hold against blows even if shields collapse, their blood is acidic enough ta eat most metals away in under a minute," she explained. "If I had ta guess, they'll have th' hive built in a perimeter around th' command core, where all th' station brass were based. Unfortunately, that means a gauntlet run fer that data core.I think ye can start ta see why yer team was called up fer this mission, now, Chief."
Eliza fell silent then, before reaching up to unlatch her helmet. While wearing her armor for extended periods of time didn't bother the Witch per se, she saw no need to keep her head enclosed when there was no reason to. "So, there's yer hows and whys. Probably should mention, I am one of a very few in th' Spur trained in th' use of exotic energy manipulation. Fancy way of sayin' magic. Relevant coz most of what I know has practical use in a military operation, and ye jist might want ta be fully aware of options before we're up ta our necks in murder bugs fram hell."
It was likely a very good thing that their faces were hidden behind the gold and silver tinted visor as Markus turned his head toward Xander with a raids brow on his face at the talk about "exotic energy manipulation is fancy for saying magic". "I've heard talk about the sapaients in the Triangulum Galaxy being able to manipulate dark energy, and that 'force' thing some of the refugees from the Abeloth Singularity talk about. I'm assuming it's like that?"
Which to be fair to the six of them was still unusual enough. Gravity field manipulation technologies were one thing, and the biotics of Triangulum did in fact follow the known physics of exotic materials. But the 'Force' definitely fell outside the scope they understood, and saying "magic" was definitely a fast road to one's perceptions being questioned.
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Feb 4, 2023 23:48:44 GMT
"I'm na briefed on th' Triangalum matter, but possibly. Magic tends ta be fairly flexible, once ye know how it functions, and essentially, it only needs ta follow th' law of conservation of matter and energy. I'll get ye a summarized list of specific effects I am versed in shortly, possibly access ta Sierra Echo Hotel 311078-2, if ye've na already got access, as that footage may provide more helpful information on what I'm referrin' ta," Eliza replied as she studied the other soldiers intently. Despite the fact that she couldn't see their faces, she felt certain they had a number of questions regarding what she was telling them, even if they hadn't said much about it yet. Certainly, the Spartans she'd met on the Event Horizon hadn't batted an eye, but one had been UNSC era, and as such, had likely dealt with far more unsettling things, and another had returned from the dead. Modern supersoldiers had yet to be thrust into the realm of the metaphysical to the best of her knowledge, and these ones sounded younger than most. That point again. Eliza chewed her lip absently as her thoughts turned inward at that it'd taken Eliza the better part of a year and highly unusual circumstances to end up with DAW, and she was still only an E-3. A CPO was several ranks higher, and to her knowledge from her time in basic training, it took close to 10 years to attain. Eliza then slid her helmet back on and pulled up the files she been given on ARC-Nine. She relaxed slightly as she reviewed the ages, but only just. Had she not seen with her own eyes that ÆSIRs weren't the only supersoldiers in Confed's arsenal, she wouldn't have even given it a thought, but now, that possibility lingered in her mind. It was possible everything was legit, she knew, but given how DAW had shown no hesitation in strong-arming her to the point that it was easier to simply enlist than be at their constant beck and call, other possibilities were certainly on the table. Mission performance would almost certainly give her those answers, though and so the Witch allowed the matter to drop, giving no explanation for her behavior unless any of ARC-Nine asked for one. "Sendin' that data file now, Chief."
A few lines of text would scroll across Markus' visor, indicating that Elon was reviewing said data already. The young man raised a brow as he saw what the Macro AI was detailing, then turned a head toward his Xander. "Guess we'll see once we get to Ek'noz Station," came his vague words as he took a chance to seat himself and lean against the inner hull. "ETA to destination, Masanti?"
"Clearing Reach airspace in ten minutes, and then from there we jump to slipspace," came the response from the shipshand as she input flight vectors to the autopilot. A few more entry commands before she switched to full AI control and turned her seat to look back in the cabin. "Two and a half days as I noted earlier, so we have time to prep gear and look at what info we do have on the situation on the station, and plan any contingencies if we do find survivors from the station's normal populace."
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Feb 19, 2023 1:05:10 GMT
Eliza had wondered herself of the possibility that people might still be alive, though after more than a year dealing with the creatures that she had herself seen on TC-611, she had serious doubts that any civilian population was still alive. Still, people could be remarkably resourceful when backed into a corner. The question warranted proper consideration, not merely because it would have been wrong to simply purge the station without any attempt to rescue those that had endured so much, but because such survivors would have more practical intel on the creatures than anyone else alive.
"If there's survivors, we canna take many on our ship, but there's bound ta be plenty on-site. Who else knows how ta run a security bypass ta commandeer a civilian ship, coz I doubt any of such potential survivors have that particular skill. Wi any luck, th' creatures arna intelligent enough ta compromise th' atmospheric containments in th' hangar bays or dockin' spires. Otherwise, there's na really much we can do, fram what I'm seein'. Ye happen ta have intel on that, Chief?"
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Mar 25, 2023 20:14:58 GMT
The remainder of the transit through Slipspace proved to be uneventful, and Eliza largely kept to herself other than at meal times. Though hardly an unusual practice among clandestine intelligence field agents like those of DAW and ONI before it, Eliza's reasons had less to do with a preference for avoiding connecting with those she worked alongside and more to do with an ongoing pet project of hers, refining theoretical designs bit by bit, testing simulations for function. The Witch had always had an affinity for small arms and armor, but this latest project, which she'd named Vanir, was considerably more advanced than her previous works, and as a result, progress had been slow, especially with her recent shift in duties. At present, in fact, Eliza sat in her quarters, not working on designs, but reviewing the intelligence they possessed concerning the mission soon to begin in earnest. Ek'noz Station wasn't especially large as world stations went, but it was still a world station, a megastructure so large that it could support a permanent population, and with only a single fireteam, it would prove downright labyrinthine. Fortunately, internal maps were readily available for she and ARC-Nine to upload to their armor systems for review and navigation. The struggle Eliza faced now, though, was in determining likely concentrations of the creatures, these strange lifeforms that seemed to change based on whatever host they had birthed from. Designate creatures as xenomorphs, denoting their lack of singular morphology, she mused to herself. It honestly didn't matter, of course, but organizing one's thoughts was always helpful. At a keyed command, a holoprojector displayed a three-dimensional layout of the colony main complex center on FS-611, while another played footage from the Dancing Goddess's visual scanners, showing the swarm of xenomorphs rushing out of the same structure. Interesting.. she thought as she compiled the three images into a singular file, then opened a private comms channel.
"Chief Markus, I'm sendin' ye a file fer analysis. I'll be on th' main deck shortly ta assist in briefin' yer team on my observations. We're nearly ta Ek'noz Station, aye?" she inquired as she transmitted the file to the younger soldier's onboard computer.
As the data package would load to his armor's server and open up, Markus would look the files over, his brow creasing as he reviewed the data. There had been a lot of these things on FS611, it looked like, and some of them bore a distant resemblance to the Kromus. And yet, some looked to have features taken from a number of Federation affiliated species.
Just what the hell were these things?
"Faala, ETA?"
"Within the hour," came the reply as the junior member of ARC-Nine tapped a series of corrections into the navigation computer. "We should be emerging from slipspace within twenty-five megameters of the platform, give or take a few klicks."
A nod as Markus continued reviewing what their "guest" had provided him. "We arrive in an hour, Corporal. Briefing will be after slipspace transition, so I expect you've got some time to get everything you have on these things together."
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Apr 7, 2023 4:06:36 GMT
"Understood. There's na a lot confirmed on these things beyond what a contact I came across in Angel City out in th' Frontier told me," Eliza replied. "But combined wi my own firsthand observations and AARs fram th' other hunters I met on FS-611, I should have enough ta work off of. If ye need me prior ta th' briefin', I'll be gettin' set up." With that, Eliza gathered her weapons, hardcase, and several datapads and left her quarters for the Prowler's main deck.
In truth, her brief, if..tense liaison with Mon'Toane had provided a trove of basic information, which helped to further suss out details about the creatures the Yuajta had called "hard meat," and as a result, organizing her notes into a cohesive briefing hadn't taken but a few minutes, with most of it being technical aspects, setting up visual aids and mission references. All that remained was for ARC-Nine to arrive, and she'd be ready to begin. "Almost wish that prick were here..daft bassa would probably love this sort of shite.." she mused to herself as she absently powered on a holostill. She couldn't help a faint smile as she looked at the avian image it displayed, even allowing herself a moment to let her thoughts drift back to the Mawkin hunter. Hopefully, he wasn't in any danger, wherever he was at the moment. With the holostill active, Eliza's mind drifted from where she was to the far-distant world of Ylf'yna, to a few short years ago.
The cycling of a door hatch brought the Witch from her reverie, and Eliza hastily shut off the holostill and stowed it, refocusing back on the mission at hand.
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on May 7, 2023 21:59:14 GMT
Some junior personnel might have been daunted by the prospect of having to brief ÆSIRs on their mission when nearly every last one of them outranked them, particularly if they'd have as little time in service as Eliza had. However, while she'd never dealt with supersoldiers from a position of authority, she had in fact led small, specialized squads into hazardous conditions. Granted, those times had been as resistance fighters, but in many ways, such matters were alike. She waited for the members of ARC-Nine to file in, then powered on the holoprojector, displaying what was evidently the most common known variant of xenomorph.
"As I'm sure ye've at least been partially informed, this is an example of th' creature we will be dealin' wi. Seein' as they have no known nomenclature at present, I've taken th' liberty of designatin' them as xenomorphs, fer reasons that will become clearer in due course. What matters is that they are innately hostile, and while their diet isna entirely known, their features suggest predatory carnivore. That said, this isna th' only reason they hunt sapients. Their reproductive cycle is parasitic in nature, and wi that, it should be noted that their morphology varies considerably based on their stage of development, role within their hive, and what host species was used ta birth them."
Eliza paused only a moment, then changed the image to that of a pale insectoid creature that vaguely resembled a sea scorpion from Terra's ancient seas. "This is their reproductive form, which my contacts among th' Yaujta tell me were called facehuggers at one point. This obviously raises questions concernin' past interactions, but that's na our priority, Th' relevance of this form is that these are how they imbed their eggs inside a host body. I realize ye have shielded power armor, but I am told that it is possible their ovipositors are capable of penetratin' th' armor around th' face. Whether that is true or na, I neither know nor care ta test. Bottom line, keep them at a distance."
This time, Eliza didn't pause, and she smoothly transitioned to the helmet footage taken from FS-611. "As ye can all see, their primary life stage is formidable, and is more than a match fer baseline humans. Their blood is also a pressurized superacid, meanin' that breachin' their mesoskeleton is likely ta result in wide sprays of their blood. While yer shields are up, this should pose no issue, but even a few drops has been documented ta be potent enough ta burn through multiple ship decks and eat through a cargo hull in well under a minute. I donna think I need ta explain what that means fer yer armor. So there's yer background information. Th' actual mission is ta infiltrate th' station and clear it of th' current infestation. If they are too numerous or too entrenched, th' plan is ta retrieve th' station's data core and deploy a Havok tactical nuclear device. Th' data retrieval is imperative in order fer us ta determine where else these xenomorphs have spread so that it can be contained. Now, technically, this is my mission, but I know what I'm lookin' at in this room, and ranks aside, I'm na daft enough ta pull th' shite some DAW agents like ta. But given how this station was infested, I'd recommend strongly that we enter via EVA. Fat load of good it'd do us if we cleared this place and took a passenger home. Any questions?" Seeing none forthcoming, Eliza powered down the holoprojector. "Alright, that's all I have fer ye. Ye all have copies of th' station map layout uploaded, so I'm gannin ta check ta see what sensors tell us. Rest of ye handle yer final checks, and I'll see ye in th' airlock."
With that, the Witch stepped out and made her way to the sensor station, relying on Markus to see to his squad. Again, something niggled at the back of her mind, but she pushed it away. She didn't have time for distractions, not going into a mission like this. She realized barely a minute later, though, that going with no distractions would quite impossible.
"Markus? Things jist got a bit more complicated," she called over the comms. "I'm reading multiple lifesigns on the station. _Human_ ones. A fair few others that arna xenomorphs, as well. Looks like a few hundred, possibly as many as 2,000. Judgin' by th' concentration, my guess is they have a redoubt, though how good that can possibly be wi a bunch of civilians is anyone's guess. I'd rather na blow a station wi that many lives still on it if it can be avoided. How do ye want ta run this mess?"