Dominion - Threat Counter

-> Planetfall

0500 Hours, 3.23.5E50
Akagassiz System, Kyatzet V

It was in an area far toward the Northern pole of the planet, a section of landmass continually beset by small asteroid strikes and shooting stars. A small northern continent covered in ice, kept cool by the axis of rotation at which the world occupied in its arc about its solitary blue star. It was also the perfect location for entry to the world based upon a long-range planetary survey.

On schedule, during one of the later months of the year for the world, a usual hailstorm of asteroids fell to the planet surface, cascading in bright arcs, the air turned to incandescence by the overheated oxygen brushed up against the accelerating meteorites. Hidden among those meteorites, however, was an alien object. True, it looked similar to the falling rocks, sloughing off random bits in its descent, but closer inspection would yield something curiously shaped. Roughly needle-shaped in design, with four fins set at equilateral points around the craft, the curiously-shaped false-asteroid was coated in a ceramic that burnt up during entry, coming off in chunks. A simulated meteorite.

It struck the ground like all the meteorites before it, sending up a plume of snow, dirt and rock to splash about the impact crater. There was no wreckage; the vehicle had landed on four stout claws that had extended and absorbed the most crucial of the shock before vomiting the sole occupant from the craft to send him spiraling through the air, arms pinwheeling to keep himself upright in his parabolic arc. He hit the ground feet first, but instead of crumpling with the impact, rolled with it and came up into a half-leap before going into a full-out sprint away from the impact site.

Another twenty minutes of combined running and short antigrav bursts later and the figure was well outside of the impact site. He now only had four days to accomplish his task.

-> Objective Reconnaissance

1324 Hours, 3.25.5E50
Akagassiz System, Kyatzet V

The burning orb of a sun was placed high, past the midday mark, and did little to warm this barren wasteland. Sergeant Drenard Romyal had trudged through it, taking a whole day to reach his target, a lone outpost hidden in this Northern climate. High walls topped with razor wire, guard towers with infrared sensors and search-lights. Drenard's initial scans had also found laser trips at all major junction points along the roads, as well as vibration sensors set in a grid pattern about the base in a five klick radius.

A solitary, ice-encrusted road twisted through the banks and dunes of snow, dirt, rock and ice toward the complex, flanked by guard posts and check points at regular intervals. One way in, one way out. It made observations fairly easy for the Vadasian agent who had dug himself in for the remainder of his time here. The mission was observation only, no need to engage unless necessary.

After hours of watching, Drenard had determined the high fence about the perimeter of the complex was a kind of harmonic metal. He figured it was designed to cut through anything, or anyone, that happened to press up against it. It wouldn't be a smart thing to go placing ones hand through those wires unless one wanted to part with the appendage. He thought it was a rather interesting thing, and made notes of anything that might prove useful for reverse engineering.

While he was watching the base, taking care to keep track of guard positions, patrol routes, numbers and other miscellaneous information, he cataloged that various species of plant life that happened to pop up through the snow encrusted landscape. A few unhealthy looking scrubs caught his eye, but what really intrigued the Vadasian was the crystal-like tree that had a kind of azure-colored bark with an inherent glow. The branches shot off from the rocky bough in right angles. All was taken in. Information was vital, and it was best to know what kind of species one was dealing with before initiating first contact.

The species in question that he was so vapidly watching were, as the briefings called them, the Jyet Nyural. A species that while appearing humanoid were far from it. Underneath the human-like skin was something completely alien. Drenard had to wonder how such a species would evolve to look human, but then reminded himself, that most species had obtained some kind of appendage with a thumb for fine manipulation of tools or its surroundings. Also, it wasn't as though Drenard were the only one pulling down this kind of mission duty. There were more than a half-dozen others doing the same. It was all preliminary stuff, feeling out the species to get a handle on their military power and infrastructure, not to mention the political climate among other factors.

He had to get inside and had an idea as to how it would all be accomplished.

Drenard wore a white jumpsuit with gray accentuation points along the more armored portions. The suit was an exoskeletal bodyarmor, a derivative of Echo armor, code-named ECE Gekt. The suit was capable of color changes, its neutral color being black. It was also equipped with a cloaking device, a device that would play an integral part in allowing the figure entrance into the complex itself. He engaged the cloak and waited.

Hours later a vehicle, what looked to be a cargo truck, appeared over a rise in the road, heralded long before by the low, echoing thrum of its strained and aging engine. He watched and waited as it grew ever closer to the guardpost. Seeing this as his chance, Drenard dashed from his hiding place, careful not to send snow flying or leave footprints from his movement; the cloaking device was engaged also so as not to suddenly draw attention to the solitary figure making way for the lone guardpost. As the truck came to a stop, breaks squealing, Drenard slipped himself under, hanging to the undercarriage easily.

He watched the guards go about the vehicle, using hand-held sensor devices to find anything wrong. They looked in the boxes in the back, checking over manifests to see that all was in order. Once everything was checked over, which was at least an hour later, and finding no sign of the insurgent clinging to the bottom--a guard had even looked under and had Drenard not had his cloak engaged, would have been staring the guard in the face.

The engine started up, warbling to life in the cold, before it set off toward the next checkpoint. Five hours and several checkpoints later, the truck came to a halt, backing into a receiving bay where its cargo could be offloaded. This is it, Drenard thought, releasing himself and rolling out from under the truck. Now the real mission started.

- - -

He swung with his left arm, his armor expanding upon his own strength and the speed of the swing. There was a resounding thud that echoed down the hall accompanying the whoosh of air that left the creatures lungs as it impacted with the mirror-like metal walls leaving a body-sized dent mark. He crouched low, casting wary glances left and right and up the corridor.

Drenard tried to piece together the small nuances of information he had. Programs analyzed the situation leading up to the contact. The species, when properly augmented, could 'sense' his presence. He had scanned this Jyet Nyural, had noted the presence of several bionanonic hardware, and then had been attacked. Either the creature had gotten the feeling of being watched, or the bionanonic augmentations had foretold that there was something nearby that was not an ally. Either way, it meant that Drenard's cloak wasn't as completely impervious as he'd like.

Taking a last look around, he began to retrace his steps. He now needed to get out, and fast. I wouldn't be long before the alarm went off, not with a dead body lying here. Before he went, though, Drenard stood up and went over to the crumpled form of the Jyet Nyural and began doing a series of complex scans of the body. The polymorphic metal of his right arm changed shape and he stabbed said appendage through the creatures abdomen, taking a sample of both creature and the bionanonic augmentation. Both would prove valuable. Then, turning, he began up the corridor, his left arm transforming as commanders were sent from his central nervous system to the Echo armor that he wanted the laser cannon ready for use.

The transfigured forearm was elongated, stretched an extra half foot beyond the original position of Drenard's hand, turned into a barrel, the inside seeming to glow a puke-colored yellow-green. He stalked up the corridor, using his infiltration software to compromise doors and systems to allow him passage back the way he'd come.

- - -

He was flung backward with the force of the blow, his shields sparking wildly, completely opaque from the blast alone. Drenard managed to spit out a curse under his breath. He was afraid for his life, downright fearful. He slammed against a crystalline tree, snow falling from the branches above to fall onto his over-stressed shields before being repelled. He groaned with pain, rolling onto his side and getting an arm up underneath himself to move into a standing position.

Explosives and him didn't mix, especially when the explosive rounds were being fired by a group of enemy troops.

Once he was up on his feet again, he began running, his feet sending up long plumes of snow behind him. He found a small rise and dove into it, lying prone with his rifle clasped neatly against his chest. His HUD brought up a cross-hairs. He targeted the lead figure and squeezed the trigger.

A single lance of blue light flashed out to hit the figure squarely in the chest, knocking him back off his feet and into a waiting comrade. Drenard didn't wait to see if he was dead, turning his weapon and switching to the concussive grenade attachment. He pulled the trigger on that. The accompanying explosion sent dirt, snow and ice into the air along with the leftover entrails of the soldiers caught in the blast.

He blinked on his COM icon.

"INTDIV NAVINS, ID 273-900, requesting extraction, coordinates--" he rambled off a string of numbers.

Another Jyet Nyural appeared to be walking in the blast cloud. Drenard pulled the trigger on his rifle again, knocking him flat.

"NAVINS 273-900, this is BL11, extraction confirmed. Coordinates are 275, 341--taxi is on the way."

Drenard felt faint. He had five klicks to cover now to get to the zone where the dropship would pick him up. Grunting, he pulled himself up off the snow and began to run. Just what he needed--a blotched mission to report when he got back.