The Alliance Emerges

Location: Unknown Space
Mission: Investigate distress beacon.
Assigned: Khroniktan Alliance Vessel Motokhenajhi
Commanding Officer: Admiral Tigris Ironclaw

---

Initiating final pre-voyage checks.
Cargo loaded? Check. Shields stabilized? Check. Energy crystals activated? Check.
Life support online. Defense systems online. Engines online. Comm’ systems online. All systems go!
All personnel to stations! Dimensional breach in… shatu… shinbali… mokhad…

Darkness.
Void.
Emptiness.
A flash of light.
Just outside the border of an inconspicuous star system, a flash of light erupted in the dark emptiness of nothingness and gave chase to the endless shadows of space. A swirling vortex of purple, blue, red, and gold forged a violent tempest where there was once a calm blackness. Like a raging sea storm the energies churned, gathered, dissipated, and thundered as a funnel in the fabric of space and time formed. Blue and violet lightning illuminated the cosmic maelstrom.
A blinding light erupted from the vortex. An enormous shape emerged from the maelstrom. Its surface was like a golden diamond that radiated with an aura of shimmering light. The hull of the vessel, the K.A.V. Motokhenajhi was crystalline and seamless. Like a star, it hovered unhindered by the cosmic wrath of the vortex. The vessel was triangular in shape with its nose severing the space dust like a hot knife. The mysterious vessel rivaled the size of the asteroids that it brushed passed with little effort as it lumbered towards the center of the star system.
A low hum resonated across the cosmos as it faded into the darkness.

–

“Admiral Tigris.” Chirped the navigator. The Rokin’s talons hovered above the console as an array of symbols and lights illuminated across the surface. He craned his long beak to eye his commander. “I believe the distress call came from near this system. By my calculations, it originated roughly three moon cycles ago.”
“Good. What is your analysis, Marna Saelem?” the Admiral directed to a second Rokin.
Lord Tigris was large for an Aryite. He stood in the center of the bridge with a rigid military posture. His large furred paw-hands were clasped behind his back as a long stripped tail swayed at his feet. A strong square jaw clenched tightly beneath two penetrating slitted pupils. Smoke trailed from a large cigar that protruded from between his lips. Long whiskers twitched at the contrails. The Aryite’s fur was burnt orange with thick black stripes that ran across his body. His powerful gaze drilled through the empty cosmos and into the arid rock planet before him. A pressed crimson red uniform with golden borders adorned his body.
“Looks like a volcanic world,” replied the Rokin. “Soaring temperatures, thin atmosphere, and high radiation in places, but otherwise habitable with aid. Perfect hiding place for brigands and slavers. How should we proceed?”
“Send a scouting drone to the surface and map out the tunnels where they could be hiding. Deploy it roughly… five years in the past. That should give us enough leeway.”
“Aye aye, Admiral.” Replied the technician before returning to the console. His talons clacked against the screen as the runic script materialized.

–

Deep in the bowels of the Khroniktan vessel was a shrouded room illuminated by a dim light. A massive azure crystal hovered in the center of the chamber and resonated with a low hum. It spun on its horizontal axis while two beams of cosmic energy surged from its poles. As the maelstrom channeled its chaotic energies into the ship, a circle of cloaked men sat around the crystal.
The ring of robed figures encompassed the crystal with an eerie and celestial atmosphere. They sat amidst a complex system of arcane circles, runes, and other symbols that formed an elaborate system of circuits etched into the floor. Some sat on their knees while others crossed their legs. Each had their heads bowed and hoods drawn. Only a low murmur of chanting accompanied the crystal’s rumble in the somber silence.

Orders from the admiral.
What is Lord Tigris’s command?
Deploy a scouting drone to the planet.
Did he specify when?
Five cycles prior to our reference.
Acknowledged.

The vessel continued to float unhindered among the endless sea of space. It appeared only a dim star in the night sky of the nearby planet. A point of light flickered across the vessel’s hull. The surface rippled like water as a small golden sphere materialized form the surface. It hovered a moment beside the larger vessel before vanishing in a flash of light.

–

Five years earlier.

Barren. Scorched. Dead.
The planet’s surface was scarred with flaming craters and volcanic rivers. Clouds of ash and smoke bombarded the landscape with acrid rains of decay. Scorched stones seethed with sibilant steam as the mountains groaned and quaked along their steady trek across the continents.
A flash of light erupted within the volcanic storm. When it faded, a golden sphere emerged from the raging superheated dust that whipped across the jagged rocks. The orb floated unhindered by the chaotic forces. Its surface was smooth like liquid, reflective like a bronze mirror, and it glowed like a small star.
A wave of energy pulsated from the sphere and rippled across the landscape. Mountains of data poured into the drone’s systems, detailing the landscape and atmosphere of the region. The orb shot across the terrain, leaving vacant air in its wake. As the drone zipped across the landscape, it steadily filled the maps of the planet’s surface within its database.

–

“We are receiving data, my lord.” Squawked a technician.
“What did the drone discover?” replied Admiral Tigris as he approached the terminal. His large, furred, clawed, paw-hand clenched the back of the chair, making it creak.
“Like our previous assessment, the planet is very arid and volcanic. The atmosphere is filled with sulfur and other combustible gases. However, there appears to be enough breathable air for assisted habitation. There does not seem to be enough water to support advanced ecosystems.”
“Any sign of what we’re looking for?”
“Yes, actually.” The technician waved his wing over the console. A holographic representation of the planet materialized in the center of the floor. The orb split in two with one hemisphere disintegrating. “We discovered a system of caves lying within and beneath the crust of the planet. Some of them run alongside underground rivers.”
“The perfect hiding place for a den of brigands…”
“It appears so…”
“Cross-reference these caves with our sensors in this reference-point.” Ordered Tigris.
“Aye aye, Admiral.” The technician clacked away at the console. The hologram zoomed onto a region of the planet. Hundreds of small green blips populated a portion of the extensive cave system.
“Found you…” sneered the large humanoid tiger.

(OOC: I like it! Though not sure how a tiger could be humanoid !)

Marta Katrin was, to say the least, rather unlike most of the Centauri.

No, as far as she was concerned, Chiron was the bane of her own existence. She had no love of the memetic engineering that destroyed all pretenses of independent thought, as the people were constantly bombarded with a stream of well-refined propaganda. There was not the slightest sense of duty in her to Brother Lal (or Big Brother, as she had taken to thinking of him after sneaking a copy of 1984 from the Talent quarters). She detested the Peacekeepers and rejected belief in the Charterist memeplex so aggressively pushed by the memetic engineers. And the Governate itself? A collection of seven of the hideous factional abominations, not fit to be part of the free galaxy.

She was a rare breed among the Centauri: one of the few capable of truly seeing through memetic engineering and genuinely resistant to it. There were a few possible fates for such people: the ambitious and calculating ones often wound up within the ranks of the Talents, but mostly they were consigned into the lower class of the Drones. The Drones, as far as she was concerned, were brainless brutes who blindly served Big Brother, but then again the Talents served him just as blindly but with much more intelligence. All things considered, it was probably better.

It was still dangerous, though, seeing as the security forces of the Peacekeepers were combing for perpetrators of memetic subversion (more often than not independent-minded Peacekeepers) for processing, which usually was long-term rehabilitation within a Punishment Sphere. Among the circles of dissenters it was said that no man or woman came out of the Punishment Spheres the same was when they came in. So she hatched a plan to get out: she managed to stow away onto a container bound for Rhea, but the container had been captured by pirates en route to Rhea on a poorly-charted passage of space.

But it was the perfect opportunity for her: these multinational pirates were clearly independent and free from the grasp of the memetic engineering of any state. This was true freedom: the freedom to think and the freedom to act, all in one. And so she swore to join them as part of their crew when they opened her chambers. She then fought with a trusty surplus Fusion Laser and in a light Synthmetal suit with ruthless zeal alongside them, and took her off-time to read from the databases of works of past authors on old and dusty terminals, even occasionally penning her own thoughts. But ultimately, she was in it for the action and the rebellion against numbing orthodoxy.

And, as part of this, she found herself in a small den on a volcanic planet, sending a bogus distress signal and waiting to strike whichever unsuspecting crew would attack them.

Farren Renner is an old, old man. His life has stretched on far beyond the three centuries an average Burninite can expect to persevere. Burninites tie their minds to a "path," as they call it, to avoid becoming lost to Slaaneesh the destroyer. Even with the recent elimination of Slaaneesh, most Burninites have found themselves too set in their old, almost-religious sense of a need to select a path every decade or two.

Farren had gone exarch long ago. That is, he became so entangled by the path of the warrior that he was unable to ever assume a different duty.

But the military men around him spurned him, as they did most exarchs. No man wants to spend all his life in military service. And out of uncertain knowledge of how a Burninite mind becomes stuck, they kept their distance. Farren became isolated, and eventually took his leave of Burnination entirely.

That was 200 years ago.

More recently, he'd thrown in his lot with a random group of brigands, probably planning sometime to overthrow the leadership. But for now, just feeling the need for sentient connection.

And so he, too, found himself in a small den on a volcanic planet, awaiting what, he could not say.

*Knight Commander Thomas was a part of the 3rd Ordenreich Shock Paladins. The shock paladins were soldiers trained from birth to fight. They were considered the top of the food chain in the infantry roles for the Ordenreich. A long time ago, long enough for him to lose track of time, he and his squad were assigned to a frigate sent to investigate a volcanic planet outside of Ordenreich space. The mission was to investigate the planet and survey it for valuable resources. Due to the scant knowledge of the system and the rumors of pirates operating in and around it Ordenreich O.S.S.C. sent a shock paladin platoon to keep the ship safe. Upon arriving, however, the ship suffered a catastrophic engine failure and crash landed on the planet's surface. While the ship avoided the lava and came down barely intact all the crew save for the Knight Commander died in the crash. The Knight Commander had no way of getting to space as the hanger was completely destroyed in the crash and the comms array was scrap metal. All he could do was wait and hope a patrol would find him but with no way to contact the fleet and the fact he was in an unknown system rescue was doubtful. He decided to settle in for the long haul and he had the entire ship's store of food to himself so he gave himself 30 years or so before he ran out of food. The water recycling plant was still operational so he had plenty of water. After a time on the planet he discovered pirate camps on the surface. He contemplated wiping them out as was his duty as a knight and one of the camps might have a FTL worthy ship but he decided that the Ordenreich would never find him and attacking the pirates risked him being dragged into a small war which would ultimately consumed them. He let the camps be and get to himself. He would every now and then observe the pirates and rescue the occasional trapped pirate because he thought that no one should die alone on a godforsaken planet butfor the most part he kept to himself.*

(OOC: For clarity's sake, Sacae, your character is on the same planet, but in a different spot, than the brigands we posted?)

OOC: yeah, he's camped out in the crashed frigate remains. The brigands will know about the ship and the person from the crash and rescues but no interaction beyond that

The Motokhenajhi drifted among the cosmic maelstrom of the Between Realm. Time, in its ever changing and multiplying streams, flowed and twisted around it. An array of winding tributaries stretched into infinity like the tendrils of an ever-growing vine. As the streams extended and divided at the whims of Choice and Fate, great orbs of expanding energy and matter adorned their heads. The streams crossed, melded, and split at infinite intersections along their treks into the Void.

At the core of the incomprehensive labyrinth of time-space the rivers converged into a single mass. It was from this spring of limitless expansion of mass and energy that Existence sprung forth – an explosion of arcane and cosmic power. Every tributary, dimension, and divergence of time was merely an echo.

The Motokhenajhi drifted amidst this complex system, these echoes of Creation. It glided between the streams, both severed from and anchored to their laws. As the entirety of the Multiverse swelled around the vessel, the Motokhenajhi descended into a nearby stream. Temporal energies rippled as the crystalline surface connected with the dimensional wall.

“Is the landing party ready?” inquired Lord Tigris.

“Aye, Admiral.” Replied another Aryite. Captain Sandrunner stood at shoulder height to the Admiral, but kept his eyes narrowed on the screen. A coat of golden brown fur covered his body, thickening slightly around his face in a dark brown mane. His lion-like maw held firm as his muscled arms clasped behind his back in attention. Mafsha was fit, athletic, and well-built with definition beneath his battle armor. In contrast to the other officers and technicians in the room, Mafsha wore the traditional armor of the Aryite Chosen – the armor in which he was most comfortable. Thick golden plates shielded his torso, back, and limbs while radiating with a divine light. Across his back was a sheathed longsword. An aura of virtue, honor, and valor resonated from him.

“Good. I will send in two Titans and a Battle-mage to establish a foothold and open a way-gate. Once the portal is open, I want you to lead the primary assault. You will be supplied with two APCs and a Juggernaut. Dismissed.”

Mafsha slammed a balled fist to his chest before pivoting on his heel. The Aryite strode out of the bridge in a soldierly march. When the door closed behind him, Mafsha breathed a sigh of relief. It was not often that one received a direct order from the Admiral of the Fleet. Perhaps it was his service in the Agency, beneath the command of the uncle of said Admiral, which enabled him to land this position on board the Motokhenajhi. Regardless, he had his duty – for King, Country, and God.

As Captain Sandrunner navigated through the halls of the Khroniktan Frigate, his thoughts drifted back to his first days among the Chosen. Like the rest of the order, he was selected as a child with great potential. After many years of vigorous training in mind, body, and spirit, the Chosen had transformed him into a devout and honorable warrior of Leolik, and wielder of the Eternal Flame. It was during his days as an initiate that he served as a scout and courier for the Royal Army, under which he had obtained his title ‘Sandrunner’.

Mafsha approached a dead end of the hallway. The walls had the appearance of mortar and brick. Beneath the disguise it was the same golden crystalline material that formed the outer hull. Torches, adorned with brightly glowing gems, illuminated the passageway. The air in front of him shimmered and hummed eerily. Despite the apparent dead-end, however, the Aryite’s stride did not falter.

When he stepped through the shimmering mass, the brick walls melted from his vision. They were replaced by a massive chamber with a metallic floor and walls. Dozens of small vessels, again crafted from the same crystalline material, lined the floor in rows. Two transports hovered down the aisle towards a large crowd. Most of them were marines clad in their advanced battle suits with their assault rifles strapped to their backs. Several Rokin, armed with light armor and sniper rifles, tried not to be crushed between the larger Aryites. A lone figure emerged from the loitering crowd and approached Mafsha.

His fur was a dark brown with gray laced into it. A long thick brown mane cascaded down his shoulders and back. The elderly Aryite’s body was muscular and fit, yet withered from age and disuse. He was clad in crimson red robes with a golden border and leather guards. Emerald green eyes caught the yellow of Mafsha’s gaze. A wide smile spread across the lion man’s maw, revealing his sharp teeth, as he approached the Captain.

“Sergeant Fireclaw.” Mafsha greeted the elder Aryite with a nod.

“Captain Sandrunner.” They clasped shoulders.

“Is everything ready?”

“Aye. The pods have been assembled and the transports are in the process of being loaded.”

“Excellent. I want you to spearhead the first attack with the Titans. Your task is to open the waygate for the primary assault. Can you accomplish that?”

“Yes sir.” Fireclaw nodded before turning back towards the group of marines. “Just allow me to get suited up for the mission.”

“Shael?” Mafsha called out to the old man.

“Hmm?”

“Please be careful, Uncle. May Leolik guide and protect you.”

Shael nodded.

–

Later, near the pirate enclave.

As the scorching day on the volcanic planet dragged on, a growing storm loomed over the charred vale. Clouds of ash and smoke churned in the crimson sky as a deep rumble thundered across the mountains. Tendrils of lightning coursed across the clouds as they spiraled down a funnel that materialized in the storm. Surges of cosmic temporal energy pulsated from the bright azure light that materialized in the eye of the funnel. The eye glared menacingly upon the compound, like a hungry lion eying its quarry. Suddenly, a deafening roar resonated across the sky, causing it to ripple like water.

Two bright lights descended from the storm’s eye. They were cloaked in fire and smoldered with otherworldly energy. Smoke spewed from their tails as they roared through the atmosphere. With a catastrophic explosion of rock, soil, and flames, they collided with the ground.

As the scattered rock and dust settled, it revealed two enormous silver spheres. Their flawless smooth surface was like a liquid mirror, reflecting their surroundings with near perfect clarity. An eerie aura surrounded them – an aura of something beyond their known world.

*Knight Commander Thomas was out on his rounds. Every week he would observe the pirate camps from afar and document any changes he saw. It wasn't really his mission, more of an outlet to keep himself from going insane from the loneliness. While on his way to the last camp on his list for the week he spotted the bright lights in the distance. He used the magnification feature in his helmet to zoom in on the two lights and found they were objects crashing into the planet's surface. He decided to investigate and started heading to their predicted crash site. He got there well after the objects crashed and set up a spot on the mountains to watch the objects with his sniper rifle's scope. He focused in on one of the objects with his sniper and noted the strange, otherworldly metal.*

Thomas (mumbling to self): Well, well, well what do we have here...?

As Marta manned the den's scanner, she noticed that there appeared to be a ship approaching the planet, one with rather unusual energy signatures that she had not seen before on the civilian ships the band had usually preyed on. Then, the atmospheric scanner suddenly reported that something had entered the atmosphere and was rapidly descending, before giving her a reading on the expected crash site. The whole thing unsettled her: this was not how the typical civilian vessel made its entrance. She then turned to Farren, and said to him, "Farren, it looks like something has decided to give us company, and I have the faint suspicion that it may not be civilian. I think we have to investigate this, and with all of your skills, it would be best if you came along with me."

Farren nods. "You know I was never trained Ranger, yet you always expect me to be the ghost." For his modesty, he rises and arms himself as silently as a butterfly. He kisses the sigil of the Bloody Handed God hanging from his Shruiken pistol, and conceals it in a boot. There are probably knives in the cloak, but if so, they're concealed. He doesn't say anything else. Exarchs are not men of many words. That plus if he's following this Centauri, he must trust her to some extent.

The smoke was still clearing when the small crowd of pirates gathered around the craters of the two spheres. Their chrome-like exterior resonated with the reflected sunlight and heat from the rocks. A sibilant sizzle curdled from the melted stone. As the pirates peered at the eerie otherworldly objects, their own bewildered eyes stared back into them.

A sickening crunch broke the silence. The flawless perfection of the spheres were vandalized by wicked cracks that spread like vines over their surfaces. It shattered like glass, sending fragments tumbling in every direction, as an object penetrated from the shell. The object was long, bent at an angle, and shrouded in a thick cloud of icy smoke that spilled from the hollow chamber. Sunlight dispelled and pierced through the steam, revealing a golden crystalline surface that glistened in the heat. Pointed fingers clinked and clenched. A clenched fist broke through another part of the shell, joining the first. The arms swept over the fractured sphere. Cracks sundered into shards, and shards cast into dust, as two piercing azure eyes peered from the center of the sphere.

The being rose from the crater and towered over the humans. Even the tallest among them only reached the height of its reversed knee. Its torso was thick as a Humvee and bulged at the shoulder blades. A flat head with glowing blue robotic eyes scanned the crowd. The ground shook with a groaning rumble that resonated from the being. Another crystalline creature emerged from the second crater and stood parallel to its sibling.

A low hum resonated in the air, shattering the silence of the crystalline titans and bewildered pirates. The hum slowly rose into a thunderous roar. Like the panicked gazelle fleeing from the lion, the shadows fled from a flash of blinding light that illuminated the space between the craters. Cosmic energies swirled and folded, escalating into a swirling vortex of purple, blue, red, and gold that forged a violent tempest where there was once a calm stillness. Like a raging sea storm the energies churned, gathered, dissipated, and thundered as a funnel in the fabric of space and time began to form. Blue and violet lightning illuminated the cosmic maelstrom. From within the vortex formed the silhouette of a large humanoid figure.

Then, just as suddenly as the vortex appeared, it vanished. Standing where the portal appeared and dissipated was a tall figure clad in glowing gold and red armor. It stood about half the height of the previous beings, but still towered over the humans. Every inch of the being’s body was covered in plate that resonated with an otherworldly aura. A long thin armored tail swayed behind him as azure eyes pierced into the soul of each of the pirates. Synthetic tendrils sprouted from his helmet as a mane that cascaded down his shoulder and chest. His gauntlet gripped a long metallic staff with a large white crystal mounted on its head.

“L’dakandamiz iroty!” he growled in a deep, guttural, modulated voice.

The titans clenched their fists and leaned forward. A dozen pinpoints of light erupted from the bulges on their backs and ripped through the air like a barrage of arrows. They spread out as they descended like falling stars – or meteors – and directed their trajectory towards the entrance of the base, gun batteries, and other visible defenses. The ground exploded in a violent torrent of energy as each of the lights collided with the ground. Bubble of chaotic energy detonated in showers of radiation, plasma, and white-hot crystal shards. The air ignited with the fury of each explosion as the ground quaked from the tremors.

As the destabilized arcanium missiles rained down destruction on the base, the titans straightened their posture and unclenched their fingers. The hands disassembled into a hundred tiny shards of crystal before reforming into hollowed tubes that ran up to their elbows.

The muzzles glowed with orange hues.

Marta glanced briefly at Farren, in complete and utter disbelief at what had just happened. It wasn't as if foreign military advances were anything new to her - the Sacaens had sent their own team, but they had crashed, and thank God for that - but what they had just seen before them was a little... excessive. A foreign race that they had never previously encountered had just destroyed most of their hard-built encampment in the space of only a few seconds, and this... this arrogant leader just stood before them and stared at them as if he owned the damn place.

Gritting her teeth, she decided to break the tension as she quickly drew her Fusion Laser and aimed at the head of this newcomer, and put the weapon into full auto. Probably wouldn't work, but damn if she didn't try. She cried out to the rest of the group, "No ground to tyrants! Give these thugs everything we've got, and neither give nor take no quarter!"

Though the group was in a bit of disarray, the severity of the situation became more than clear enough to them, and they began to fire at the various alien newcomers in a desperate attempt to resist. Meanwhile, Marta looked anxiously at Farren, wondering what that old hand would now do...

*Knight Commander Thomas watched the scene unfold before him, the destruction of the pirate base and the subsequent retaliation through the scope of his rifle.*

Thomas: Aww... Christ... who would have guessed, overpowered aliens...

*The Knight Commander saw the pirates were fighting back, admirable but the Knight Commander guessed it was a simple annoyance for the newcomers, still he had to do something. The Knight Commander made one last check of his rifle and slapped in some anti-armor rounds into it and took aim. He then lined up his scope with what he presumed was the "head" of the new creature and took the shot. A second or two later an armor piercing, 50 caliber sniper round slammed into the creature. The Knight Commander activated his mike a few seconds after that*

Thomas: To all human elements this is Knight Commander Thomas, 3rd Ordenreich Shock Paladins. I recommend you get away from that thing ASAP. I'll send coordinates for rendezvous once we achieve minimal safety. Thomas out.

Farren touches Marta's shoulder lightly -- "Do not allow yourself to be seen."

He vanishes. To the eyes of the untrained observer anyway. If you were looking very closely, you'd see he simply switched on the vestments of a ranger and ran low and fast. But not away from the aliens. Not exactly. Instead, he seems to have gone above them, in terms of altitude. As an exarch, he noted the natural lay of the land without thinking about it, mentally storing an incredibly detailed map of sorts, of all the places he could hole up if he came under fire from any direction. Moving under cover as he was, and given that others were being much more threatening, he did not anticipate needing to use them. Which was fine by him, because he planned on using his understanding of the land differently today.

Farren finishes laying his charges as quickly as possible, only hoping that it would be enough.

And flicked the switch, detonating in all the right places. The (hopefully) freed lava would have no place to go but down -- into the landing zone of the alien force.

Farren then turns to run back to Marta, intending to tell her to harry the aliens, holding them there  and distracting them until they could be destroyed by the earth.

"Damn imperials," he mutters. "Why is force of arms always on the side of those who take pleasure in using it?"

Sergeant Fireclaw glared at the woman when she brandished her weapon. The searing bolts of energy that spilled from its maw screeched like death as they lunged at his helmet. His faceplate remained unscathed as the air in front of him rippled. The kinetic energy released from the fusion pistol distorted, dissipated, and was absorbed as it collided with an unseen force.

The being’s gaze drilled into the woman’s skull. He stared through her physical body and into her soul. His gazed shifted to the pistol and his hand flexed. Suddenly, the pistol illuminated with a crimson glow like hot iron. It sizzled with what little moisture clung to it, and reeked with the stench of scorched flesh.

He then shifted his feet to a wider stance as he slammed the butt of his staff into the ground. The crystal glowed with an eerie white light. His free hand stretched forward, palm facing the pirates, and the air grew still.

“Sah’ar.” His voice drifted along a breeze.

A violent tempest ripped across the ground, filling the air with a storm of dust and earth. The gale flew passed the alien like a battering ram towards the pirates. His mind and soul focused on the path of the wind, directing its vigor. The winds attempted to snatch the small humans from the ground and cast them through the air like toys.

“L’dakandamiz iroty!” he repeated as he pointed at the pirates. “Iroty! Iroty!”

The Titans dug their feet deep into the earth as they lifted their arms, which had transformed into large blasters and gatling guns. An ominous dark violet glow resonated from the blaster muzzles as the gatling guns began to spin. Then, just as quickly as they appeared, they rained death on the ground before them. The air reeked with scorched oxygen and glowed an eerie shade of purple as the rock at the pirates’ feet melted. Armor liquefied. Clothing combusted. Flesh boiled. The ground erupted as exploding crystal rounds punctured the earth. They exploded with the same otherworldly radiation as the missiles, crystallizing flesh that was caught in the blast.

As the titans swept the ground with suppressive fire, Sergeant Fireclaw turned away from the carnage and took several paces. He gripped his staff with both hands and thrust it deep into the ground. The crystal that adorned the head glowed brightly and sparked with purple, gold, and crimson lightning. It was then that the sky thundered with the crack of Thomas’s rifle. The battle-mage instinctively stepped back when the air in front of him rippled. His shield had absorbed the energy of the fusion pistol’s blasts, increasing its own strength, and had again absorbed the impact of the bullet. It was like firing a pellet gun at a foam wall.

His gaze sought for the source of the assault. The sensors in his helmet located the heat trail left by the bullet. He narrowed his eyes on the man behind the rifle, peering through rock, dust, and the fabric of reality, into the astral echo of his existence.

“Bah’zakh!” he cried, lifting his hand to the heavens. The sky echoed the word with a symphony of thunder. A javelin of lightning lurched through the clouds, bound for the ground that supported Thomas’s feet.

It was then that the earth writhed and bled from the explosions that rumbled around them. Sergeant Fireclaw dropped into a crouch and cursed as he saw the lava flow towards them. They couldn’t abandon the landing zone until the portal was constructed. He was confident that the Titans could suppress the pirates. Their armor and shielding could likely withstand the heat’s wrath as well, but he was not confident on the strength of his own battle suit.

Unless…

Fireclaw lowered to his knees and bowed his head. He focused on the fire both within and without. The Aryite could feel the rage of the earth – feel her fury personified by the melted stone that was her blood. All he needed was time to align himself. Fortunately, its descent was cumbersome.

All he needed was time.

God damn it, Marta thought. How in hell were they going to fight back now? Their weapons certainly couldn't penetrate the armor on those battle suits, and even a burst of Fusion Laser blasts couldn't penetrate that damned shield. Hell, if she wasn't mistaken, that shield just grew stronger before it was impacted by... whoever fired off that shot, it certainly wasn't any one of them. She had managed to dive behind cover to avoid the whirlwind of death that was the barrage of attacks, but nevertheless she could hardly hold out forever.

Then, on her comm equipment, a message came through, apparently from Knight Commander Thomas, the Sacaen survivor of the crash and occasional savior of stranded comrades. Not exactly a terrible man, all in all, she thought, and certainly better than whoever these newcomers are. Then she considered his suggestion that everyone get away and head to a rendezvous point. A reasonable idea, but even if they managed to get away they would now be stuck with no way to leave and they would abandon their last chance of destroying them with the lava flow set off in the distance.

So, she said in reply to Thomas, "Negative. We will continue to stand our ground, for what good it will do, and if it will be our final stand then so be it. But we do not surrender to imperials and tyrants!"

With a sigh, she looked back to the fray, considering her next action. Her Fusion Laser, although quite trustworthy and normally quite effective, was absolutely of no use here, not able to penetrate either armor nor shielding. She had a few things though: a few jury-rigged grenades, which might do some manner of good, and then-

Thud.

A dead comrade collapsed on the ground not far from her, and she could quite plainly see that half his flesh was now entirely crystallized. The terrible sight made her burn inside as she now closely examined the effects of their weapon. To her, it was quite plain that this enemy had the gall to use such a weapon that should be appalling to all good sentients. Then, she looked at her fallen comrade, and she quickly noticed his armor's fusion power pack and realized a plan. She quickly tore out the pack and set it onto self-destruct mode, and slung it towards the ground the enemy now occupied. In short order she threw her grenades to the same area, and ducked back for cover, hoping that the combined blasts would be enough to delay them. Without looking back, she ran away, hoping that she could make a good break for it...

Farren arrives back at Marta.

"Do not be seen."

All they need is a little bit of time. Even if somehow a wearable battle suit could be built to withstand the heat produced by lava, it's another thing entirely to be swimming in it.

"And back away from the oncoming lava."

Anyway, he vanishes to lob explosives at the aliens from afar, doing his best to remain unseen himself, and then goes to check out the 'rendezvous point.'

Thomas: Understood. I'll do what I can from my end just... shit!

*the lightening struck right at the Knight Commander's feet almost taking him out along with a pile of rocks. He started running using his battle suits enhancements to run at twice the speed a normal human could run and dodging the incoming lightening which was taking out rocks all around him.*

Thomas: Shit! Shit! Shit!

*Knight Commander Thomas came on the line*

Thomas: I'm heading for the coordinates I sent you now. They lead to the downed Ordenreich frigate I came in on. I have a full armory should you change your mind as well as food, water, and shelter. Good luck! Thomas out!

(OOC: Sorry for the bare bones update. I just had surgery in my right arm so its hard to type and I'm still a little burned out from painkillers. Just wanted to do my part for the RP)

Sensors screamed inside Fireclaw’s helmet as the explosives hurdled towards him. He glanced up to see a shower of grenades raining on his head. The Aryite growled a curse before they erupted with an explosion of radiation, fire, and plasma. Sergeant Fireclaw flew back several feet as the smell of smoke and the cracking of glass drifted in the air. His hands hit the ground with a thud before he landed in a reverse roll. A blanket of fire raged across the surface of the battle-mage’s suit.

“L’kasimot anu!” he roared. “L’kasimot anu!”

The Titans responded by side-stepping in front of the battle-mage and situating themselves between him and the pirates. They swept across the battlefield with another barrage of suppressive fire. One of the Titans directed their gatling gun at Farren as he lobbed explosives and unleashed a torrent of incendiary arcanium rounds. They exploded in a shower of scorching flame and the arcane radiation.

When the fire engulfed the battle-mage, he bound it to himself and the growing empathic rage that he shared with the earth, whose burning blood flowed ever closer. He could feel the spirit within as his connection grew stronger. His soul and heart burned with the inferno, and they became one.

He rose to his feet and lifted his hands. Flames danced across the fingertips of the gauntlets. The lava writhed and swayed as an unseen force churned within the molten waves. His palms faced defiantly against the rivers of fire. Fireclaw focused his mind on the fused elements of fire and earth and commanded them as an extension of his own being. Then, just as the river was about to spill into the craters that the Titans emerged from, the earth-blood altered its course. It flowed uphill, driven by the authority of the battle-mage’s consciousness, towards the fleeing pirates.

Meanwhile the mage’s staff continued to spill out cosmic energies. The growing maelstrom of crimson and violet lightning ripped into the fabric of reality, rending a hole in time and space. As the churning vortex intensified, a rumble resonated from beyond.

Marta's eyes go wide in surprise when she saw the flow of the lava chain, as a thousand thoughts raced through her mind. How in Hell was this even possible? Sure, these people were metas, but making lava flow uphill? Besides defying the laws of physics completely, the amount of force needed to do something like that boggled her mind. It would be absurd enough if he could make that much water flow uphill, let alone magma. Without looking back she sprinted away, trying to split off from the others and taking a circuitous route to the rendezvous point.

At the same time, she briefly went back on line and said to the others, "We need to split up so we can all get to the rendezvous point safely and so the lava doesn't overtake us. Let's all get moving, and quickly!"

"Lava doesn't move quickly," Farren says, appearing at her side. "Especially not...uphill." He's sweating. He's glad of the decoys he set and for his fast running, because the aliens counterattacked him very swiftly. There's a cut across his forehead from what was presumably a glancing hit, but it seems shallow.

"As noble as this all is, I do not feel the need to die on this rock."

*Knight Commander Thomas made it to the downed Ordenreich frigate. It wasn't much to look at. The ship hit a dozen rocky spires and the wing engines skidded into a lava flow rendering them to molten slab. The hull was breached in many different places and most of the electronics were fried. For a spacefaring vessel its time was long gone. Still it provided shelter and was equipped for a long journey so it had double the standard amount of food and weapons and the water recycling plant was still working. All in all it was a good port in the storm on this hellish planet. The Knight Commander hurried inside and began to take stock of his damages. His suit's tacpad on his left arm was fried by the lightening so he tossed it off and replaced it with a fresh one. He reloaded his weapons putting heavy emphasis on ammo designed to take out heavy tanks as he decided this is what his new foes should be classified as, at least until he learned more about them*

With a final pulse of cosmic energy, the swirling vortex forged by the staff stabilized. A humming rumble resonated from the portal. Light spilled out of the portal like a flash bang as two large objects emerged. They were crafted from the same golden crystalline material as the Titans, but formed into a rectangular shape. The hovercrafts zoomed several feet off the ground in opposite directions of each other to the flanks of the Titans and battle-mage.

“L’tzagag!” Fireclaw roared as he slammed his fist on the ground. The air around him grew cold and misty as a layer of frost erupted from his clenched hand. It cascaded across the ground like a wave of sleet, snow, and ice. As it washed over the volcanic ground, the earth groaned and cracked from the drastic change of heat. The lava slowed to a frostbitten crawl and solidified into blackened obsidian.

As the flash blizzard subsided, the hovercrafts emerged from the blistering steam that flowed from the hardened lava. The side panels of the crystalline vessels rippled like water and illuminated with light. Then several enormous figures fazed through the rippling panels and landed on the hardened lava with a series of thuds. They stood almost twice the height of a man but nearly three times their girth. The beings were clad in thick metallic battle-suits and carried blast rifles far larger than any human could wield.

The marines leapt out of the APCs and formed two wings of parallels rows at the flanks of the portal with the Titans at the center. They focused their iron sights on the panicked pirates that were caught within their artificial pincer and unleashed a barrage of focused gamma ray bursts.

An ominous hum groaned from beyond the portal. A second flash of light. The vortex gave way for another hovercraft. A shaft, formed into the maw of a roaring lion, stretched from a rotating turret that glared viciously at the opening of the pirate base. Several smaller turrets peered from its hull as it lumbered over the frozen volcanic ground.

A figure hung from the Juggernaut by its main turret. His gauntlet gripped the muzzle while an armored boots braced against the hull. The alien’s armor glowed with a divine radiance that resonated with an aura of righteousness, virtue, and courage. His back was draped by a crimson cape. Slitted pupils on yellow eyes scanned the battlefield. Golden brown fur coated his face and thickened in an auburn mane woven into dreadlocks. A lion-like maw clenched tightly while a long furred tail swayed behind him.

Captain Sandrunner leapt from the Juggernaut and landed in a three point stance. He rose to his full height. The Aryite held out a small cylindrical object that he retrieved from his belt. It expanded into a long pole as a red banner spilled out from it. A golden star was embroidered across the background.

“Kuamsheev, Dugakhim!” His voice thundered across the battlefield. It was deep, powerful, yet intelligent. “Kuamsheev! Wao’hem lagoroka mil’navar kikumah mevika zet’vah lokhenajhim! Lakulat yao’hem haklo shekhini! Imarotz vya’Leolik!”

The Aryite commander slammed the standard into the earth and gripped the blade hilt on his back. He drew the blade as the grip around the flagpole tightened. Glowing runes of strength, valor, and righteousness glowed with divine light across the sword.

“Attention, xenos.” He spoke. His words rung as the native tongue in the ears of those who heard them. “This world has been claimed on behalf of the Khroniktan Alliance, in the name of Priest-King Neodin Shadowslayer, King of Arydia, Chancellor of the Khroniktan Alliance, High Priest of the Chosen, and Prophet of Leolik. May the Almighty Leolik bestow His blessing of prosperity upon this new territory on behalf of the free peoples of Khroniktus. Meylah!”

He removed his hand from the standard and gripped the runeblade with both gauntlet. Captain Sandrunner, the Aryite Chosen, took a step forward before breaking into a sprint. His maw opened in a thundering roar that sent a wave of terror into his enemies. A storm of divine energy surged through the air around the paladin.

Farren shakes his head at the message. Imperials. Didn't even give their presumed inferiors options. After all, options are for the 'us,' not the 'them.'

"I say we up and leave," Farren says. "There is nothing to be gained here."