M The Forest Belongs to the Worms [Open]

[Universe]

Imported post - written by adornedinwrath​

(Lagrandstadt map sector: 43,23)

With the advent of the Zralovradian Revolutionary Sector's meteoric rise to power as the primary interplanetary power within the Talhula Sector, the tenuous balance of power once held by the two mighty empires it spawned from had been shattered beyond recognition. The towering glories of the Arkradian Dominion, millennia old and once having ruled the region, fell apart like tatters of flesh shredded by predatory claws as bloodlines and kingdoms once propped up by ageless might fell before the ravenous, vengeful hunger of starved worlds desiring their just deserts. Its own periphery and those that otherwise neared the edges of its rule had become cankerous and infected as rampant strains of anti-monarchial, pan-collectivist movements galvanized multiple generations of dissent whether ideological, ethnic, religious, or territorial. A carcass not aware of its sorrystate, the domain suffered not one blow but thousands feasting on its own decadent misrule. Yet one could hardly think its rivals had fared any better.

The other regional superpower of the Unified Celestial League had fared no better. Once slated too be the dominant force in the region, their doctrines of humanitarian and compassionate interventionism had always been little more than ploys for further containing the Dominion and feeding its constant need for growth. An economic and militaristic superpower, it had emerged confident and virile in the last grand war of self defence or territorial aggression against the Dominion with many of its older rival's territories wrested into its large spheres of influence. Yet tossing the populace of these worlds from beneath the heels of blood-royalty to those of corporate oligarchy had only further tested the growing desperation of an uncertain, agitated populace. For all the innovations in sapient rights and conditions of living they had purported to bring, the same rot of dissatisfcation and social stratification had been rendered clear and open to the galaxy at large. From those barely treated wounds emerged the same violent series of insurrections, open wars, and outright collapses in the wake of a myriad of upheavals, shattering the veil of media blackouts and selective newscasting as the ugly festering underbelly finally burst.

It is from this morass of interstellar incursions by lesser non-recognized states, month to month coups from reinvigorated insurgent groups, and the failure of both organizations to suppress the external and internal threats that a great exodus emerged. From the bowels of faded empires reeling from gaping wounds, pierced from within or torn into from without, a grand exodus of refugees, business groups, breakaway militaries, and anyone else fearing for their safety began a great voyage towards the Vandal Sector. There had been talks of fertile worlds barely touched by the great powers of known space but little solid information to go on; solely a dream of possibilities beyond the shattered, shameful carcasses of worlds some still longed for yet knew were on their last legs.

As they passed through the Summer Gate, a break in the shroud of nebulous solar energies and obscuring fog in the Hadal Chasm's eastward arm, it would appear their hopes had been pinned onto a genuine bounty. At the fringes of the great solar tendril lay words obscured to the long range scanning technology of the Dominion and the League. They were untouched worlds that while fraught with unknown dangers and still draped in the equipment-interfering shrouds of the Chasm's unearthly power, nonetheless were the new start they were looking for.

As these fresh planets were gradually sprinkled with colonial outposts, civilian settlements, resource extraction facilities, and starports the watching eyes of their escort fleets began to pick up concerning readings past the Summer Gate and within the great Hadal arm. Vague silhouettes that crept and crawled within the obscuring fog-passage at first were like the silhouettes of a fearful subconscious peering into the dimly lit blackness of deep space. Soon they became more familiar shapes from the nightmares of years long since passed; constructs and creatures crafted of architecturally arranged yet shiftingly jointed chitin, the splotchy fester-rot of reinforced fungal meat, and sleek blade-like shapes drifting like enormous predatory fish waiting to pounce. All kinds of horror obscene and predatory lurked at the edges of what should have been safety and those who had ran from the chaos of empires in decline steeled themselves for whatever cruel karma they had earned.

Today, the enormous eel like creatures the size of capital ships were paid far less heed as they swam past asteroid mining operations around Lagrandstadt's exospace. The enormous jointed limbs once mistaken as debris within the Hadal arm were now all but ignored on security scans. Even the spore-clouds drifting near many satellites were treated as minor annoyances at best; a small price to pay for the protection and assistance from the enormous bulbous battlestations that helped protect the colony world of Lagrandstadt. Once the Zralovradian Revolutionary Sector would have been viewed as vengeful barbarians; a conquering horde that had erupted out from the geopolitical conflict between the Dominion and the League then turned into something far more monstrous than either.

Yet that was the tune that orators, lords, executives, and presidents alike made sure was beaten out by media apparatus and propaganda outlet alike. In the years since their initially ominous appearance, it became clear that the Sector was not keen to repeat old mistakes. They had seeked to take these worlds before, that much was true, but they had a respect for the self-determination of those who were fleeing the power games of the old worlds. It could not be said they would truly be free of such with the rich resources and strategic positoning of this stretch of the stars but as independent worlds, they still had business to run and futures that could not be built on sheer determination alone. The same could be said to their unusual allies that for all their might, still needed to be able to both project it whether militarily, economically, or culturally and keep a watch on areas of interest throughout the cosmos.

Lagrandstadt was one of a growing number of independent colonies that had taken up the offer of aid years ago and it bore the results of their assistance. A robust infrastructure network connected the majority of its growing civilian population centres. The veil of ethereal interference that made interplanetary communication difficult had been done away with thanks to the arcane knowledge of the Sector. While much of the wilderness was difficult to explore and scan due to a more concentrated sort of unearthly obscuration against technology and even ethereal powers, multiple observation posts had been established within the forested heart of its central continental landmass as additional territories were assessed for settlement, construction, and resource extraction. A large deal of the support from the ZRS did come with certain restrictions of an environmental nature which provided no shortage of complaints from various elements of the upper class but it was understood growth had a cost and so did an allegiance.

While it could hardly be said that the Independent Colonial Territories had been absorbed into the ZRS, Lagrandstadt was setting a precedent for further cooperation and Sector power expansion into the Vandal Subsector. Other worlds were following in its wake as frequent visits by Zralovradian envoys made the nightly news. Progress wasn't as fast as any supporter would have liked; many of the colonies still held emnity towards the Sector given how its birth correlated to the downfall of their homelands. Others however felt that maybe the great revolts were simply the price they payed for years of power games and letting their own societies hollow themselves out under the rules of magnates and lords.

Unfortunately for the Sector, all of this had come to a crashing halt.

Over the last three weeks, a mysterious threat had emerged from the shrouded woods of Lagrandstadt and ravaged any sign of civilization it could encounter. It mattered little if it was a military outpost in the middle of the woods, a heavily populated agricultural facility, or a mountainside starport. If it was near enough to the forest, it would be rendered devastated with few if any survivors. Video footage and first hand testimony told the same story; blackened and shadowy shapes emerging from the dead of night cloaked in murk and full of wrath. Lengthy and serpentine, digitigrade and looming, bestial all the same and possessing a level of violent power the Colonial Militia could not hope to match.

Whatever footage could be recovered was as indistinct and blurred as the recollections of the scant handful of survivors; vague shapes at least the size of small combat mecha, indefinite in form but vivid in their violence. Were they casting great beams of scything, electrifying power or was that the trick of frantic minds and malfunctioning recording software? Was that metallic creaking the combat robots they were crushing underfoot or evidence of some sort of mechanical construction? Was it flesh that sloughed off and burned away mere seconds after being scourted off their body by gunfire or was it merely the burning fragments of the habitations they scattered through their brutal raids?

The specifics did not matter as much in the greater picture. Suggestions that it could potentially be terror attacks by one of the Sector's various enemies were drowned in the wake of a new prevailing narrative. For the skeptics of the growing relationship between these refugee colonies and the ones some would blame for their state, this was a sign that they were unable to protect their desired colonies. The skepticism was growing and spreading from skeptics even to their supporters; something had to be done so why wasn't it happening?

Behind the viral video feeds of angry media critics and company executives condemning the bureaucratic inefficiency of the exotic alien warlords, the underlying issues were of a more delicate nature. The Sector did not have an official military presence on the planet and technically did not even have any embassies yet. As part of its respect for the self-determination of Lagrandstadt and any other colonies, it kept to their space providing various forms of logistical and technological suppor, otherwise feeding them supplies and money. The idea of both officially allowing then deploying the Sector's full might on the ground and moving the colonial government closer to them, even with a large part of the populace in favour of closer relations, was considered a bridge too far and something that could galvanize both sides beyond what was manageable.

It wasn't long before a solution was found, one that satisfied all parties. An element of it was currently wakling through the woods themselves.

A squad of ten soldiers could be seen moving to the edge of a creek, pausing to watch around themselves not for signs of their yet unidentified predators but rather, any allies. The tree cover while thick, wasn't so much that sunlight could not break in shining beams yet it only juxtaposed against the murky, suffocating blackness looming further ahead. This was about as far as they could go into the woods while still being within sensor range of the Lagranstadt Self-Defence Militias and the Sector ships in the atmosphere. Beyond that point, the veil of interference that shrouded the woods for reasons still unknown ensured that they would all but be on their own.

The two largest members of the squadron were vrexul; monstrously large arthropods with one being ten feet in height and another a single foot shorter. This was still considered within the average size variation but it wasn't all that made them appear so menacing. One of them crept along the ground and the other walked on dense, powerful legs. All four of them initially appeared to have a standard bipedal body plan but a closer look revealed features of something more primitive in its complexity. At least three or four additional pairs of limbs emerged primarily from between their waist and larger primary arms, ending in simpler pointed claws as opposed to the complex series of surgery tool digits of their main arms. They appeared to possess no elytra but dense, shaped bulkheads of chitinous armour of which it was impossible to tell if it was integrated or grown out of their bodies. Their heads lacked the smoothness of a human's in shape, one more flattened and the other like a quarter of a sphere, both noted by their multiple sets of dome-like sections hiding multiple smaller visual organs, the absence of soft tissue, and rows of intricate masticating, mutilating mouthparts hidden behind some sort of facial covering; like a shroud of exoskeletal material where there should be equivalent of gnashing teeth


It was no wonder they were the species most often associated with the Sector. Not only were they the most physically imposing but they were the most heavily armed. Across one's back and in another's arm, an enormous chunk of rectangular metal with staphylnid beetle esque mass molded onto its frame - the aptly named hellhammer canon-rifle, a fusion of chitinous and artificial materials. It was at least the size of a heavy machine gun; the sort that typically required at least two people to man but in against their forms it looked as compact as any service rifle. Yet that was the only visible weapon but looking at their chitinous bodies and it wasn't hard to guess what else was hidden within. Metal mesh connected the various plates of chitin, some of which appeared coated with a protective layer of camo-patterned metallic composite, and it was clear with a careful eye that some of their carapace was far from natural. Whether it was from integrated cybernetic components, ridged with sharper edges and starker geometry, or some sort of grafted biomass attached like flat bodied parasites against their hulking bodies was hard to tell. One could be the other and vice versa.


Flanking the sides and bringing up the rear were a trio of aliens at once more elegant but no less foreboding. They stood on long digitigrade legs attached to bodies tall and stalking obscured with a sleek, edgeless armour that added considerable power and mass to their hunting gait. Hunched forth just slightly, their smoothly curving armour partially concealed by capes that seemed to shift and mimic the vegetation and debris around them, the lengthy hyper-accelerator rifles in their arms, they looked as much as they would be stalking dangerous beasts as high tech nomadic hunters as they would be fighting imperial armies across the stars. Their features couldn't be seen through the helmets but they could be hinted at; eel-like, elongated heads, and mouths full of gnarled teeth. The large visors upon them, giving them a wide field of view, looked more like lighter metal at first until closer inspection, lightly tinted with shades of the green, brown, and black of their environment but subtly transparent at spots. They were three to four feet shorter than the tallest of the vrexul, their hands having four lengthy fingers and two clawed thumbs, and their build while powerful built more for agility than brutality.


Five more comprised the rest of the squad and while they were by far the smallest, they weren't any less grotesque. They were the closest to a human in their bodily shape, bipedal and four-limbed, but the similarities took a turn towards the decomposed past that point. The texture of their flesh was somewhere between detritus-eating fungi and rotten flesh, a faded and sickly sallow-yellow with gore-splotch and diseased discolouration. This degraded form belied their powerful bodies, larger than those of a human by around a foot and one could almost call muscular if not for the festering appearance that seemed to contradict their strength. They lacked eyes with only an area of pale and curving nothingness lined with transulcent skin beneath which worm-like veins pulsed lightly before contracting into some sort of condensed, taut black tubes. Beneath that were maws best described as caverns of jutting stalagmites and stalactites, covered a grrisly reddish and sealed behind semi-transparent lips, made of a sort of fleshy jellyfish-like flesh as drab as their bodies. Covering their forms was armour by stark contrast to their comrades appeared much lighter. Much of it resembled a thicker version of the ballistic padding vests used by humans but a closer look revealed harder, oddly organic plating camo-patterned materials. The knotted, gnarled textures had been partially smoothed out and knotted into the bumpier shapes of conventional bulletproof vests, shifting as living and breathing materials and in the process hinting at dull, non-reflective armoured plating woven into the flesh of this living material.

Combat harnesses worn overtop were held down by roots and branches but the actual armour itself appeared to be bolted at parts into their bodies, just like the exoskeletal arm and leg joints. They appeared at first to be old technology; the kind of hefty portions of a larger powered exoskeleton made to enhance arm and leg strength. There was no greater skeleton for them to attach to; the arm and leg parts were drilled into the corresponding flesh and it was clear it was to let them keep up with their allies. Their weaponry, while still for organisms larger than humans, did not rival the other species in size but it looked no less gnarly. It was closer to the rougher, semi-industrial appearance of certain human weaponry but the same repulsive biomass of their bodies and armour was inserted like a grotesque puzzle, contrasting the rigidity of the simple shapes of rifles with the anarchic, infesting chaos of a fungoid infection across a series of interlinked bones. Long tubes emerged from some of them, plugging back into their bodies, and others had tendrils wrapped around the barrels with series of eye-like mycelial nodes poking out, some of which emerged from tubular mouths in groups of three tubes, like some sort of perverse flower buds. What was lesser in terms of sheer calibre was compensated with by vicious rate of fire and volume of munitions.

The group remained waiting for their allies. It wasn't a word they wanted to use with the Sector being alone in the cosmos mostly; their ideologies were varied but anathema to most civilizaitons, including those they had emerged from. Yet it was the government of Lagrandstadt's sovereign right to choose their help and they would respect that. Far and wide had the word of their strange situation gone and deep had been the promises. A cut of their bountiful resources, new lands to settle, and political inroads in with the rest of the Independent Colonial Territories. They were not picky enough to decide on just the cream of the crop; anyone who heard the call and provided they passed very light criteria could be a part of this mission.

As the nature of the enemy was not fully known, this was at once a trial by fire and an investigation. Rough coordinates of presumed hideouts, acquired by a few elite teams of scouts a day prior, were to be investigated to find out where they were hiding. Yet they also had orders to observe and if able to find an advantageous position, engage the threat to truly measure their capabilities and if possible, to eliminate them and acquire samples. The colonial militias were trained and equipped well but they were only militia. The revolutionary soldiers did not like the thought of putting down even nominal allies but it was clear to them their mysterious threat had butchered mostly inexperienced soldiers; the exodus fleets had military personnel but many of them were from periphery worlds who felt abandoned or truly were by their higher ups. If these beasts thought that they would be meeting more victims, this mixed squadron of soldiers drawn from all acros the Sector would prove them wrong.

Would they be able to say the same of their allies? They had yet to meet them but were told this rendez-vous point would be where they would get to see who else lurked amongst the stars. Would they be future enemies? Formidable ones that the mission would teach them to watch with caution in years to come? It was the will of the colony they obeyed, even if the dominion they hailed from could crush it to dust if they wished. Yet the same right to govern their own futures was what they were obliged to respect as well, even if it put them in proximity with those they might otherwise have little compassion for.

The squad laid low and awaited

 

[Universe]

Imported post - written by lavalung​

Forests always came with a certain din of background noises. Distant churning brambles, animal hoots and calls, the faint flutter of wings.

That made it significantly easier for a lone Silanbar scout to make it closer to the group;

[A long sea-drake creature]

with a skulking, ungainly and baroque form. Dark grey and befangled, it carefully coiled around branches and brush, utterly in it's element.

It gave the dense creature pleasure to get within thirty paces of those it adored. Jealous of their technology as they were, it would not have helped the transcendent creatures here...

But getting any closer unannounced was probably just asking for a the shock to turn into an impromptu firefight. Another day, maybe.

"Greeting powerful Gealtirocht. I am here. To answer master call." A clawed hand reached the activation nub of the auto-translator implanted into their neck, so that their whispered grunts would be translated into more useful radio waves. The fact that they addressed the Eel-like race first was no coincidence, as it was them who raised the similar creatures to space-mobile auxiliaries naught but thirty years ago. "Greeting additional. Other star creature. Am name Zuruzala Zukabra. Mercenary. For help you."

Sticking it's triangular mono-horned head out of a nearby bush, it didn't smile or wave. It brooded and writhed with it's tail, primitive spiked metal armour clunking around slightly.

Had to look strong. Had to look useful. Smiles were deceptive. Zuruzala was strong. Zuruzala was not deceptive.

 

[Universe]

Imported post - written by adornedinwrath​

The gealtirocht, wraithlike spectres by comparison to their gnarled compatriots, seemed to tense a little at the announcement of the more lithe creature. It was similar yet not; lacking the tall and powerful stature of their digitigrade legs and broad, powerful shoulders and clawed arms nor their cruel almost skeletal faces elongated in the shape of some nightmarish, serpentine creatures. Those of a less civilized time might see it as a regression or degeneration but the one who made a just barely audible sneer through the speakers had something else on mind.

She didn't say it of course. Zuruzala probably got it all the time under the breaths of the tribes-folk militias that comprised many of the forces wherein these smaller eel-folk often found thesmelves serving. Nobody from an alliance built on breaking down the barriers of old would openly decry another as "primitive" or uncivilized; not when it had been by the hands of their own such folk had become this way.

A raised hand from another stayed her tongue. This one was slightly taller, its armour a pale blue but as its visual camo-patterns de-materialized, the long fin-like swirls of tribal markings revealed itself; one of the grand tribes of the homeworld worn not as a sign of rank but heritage. The sleak accelerator rifle with its pointed almost spear-like barrel-tip seemed to almost clash with the anachronistic display on its powerful form. Its voice emerged with a semi-flanged, blurring tone as if spoken underwater yet cleared up by voice filtration softwhere. A bit of grit underscored its speech, almost a growl and easily mistaken for hostility if not for the otherwise energetic patterns.

"Met well. No need for title. Your kind are not servant but sibling. More importantly, allies present? Woods are deep and our quarry imposing. Look at us; prepared not just to hunt but to annihilate."

The other gealtirocht didn't seem to react much to the creature's presence, lazily hanging a strangely tubular weapona cross its shoulders. One might think it to be the shaft of some tribal cyber-lance but a small trigger, multiple laser targeters, and overlapping cylindrical rings lined near its barrel. A faint spark could be seen at its four fanged tips as if the weapon hungered for usage. The vrexul and flesh-fungoid tarrhaidim were either impassive and statue-like or starting to open their feeder-branches respectively. They at first seemed almost like trails of dust in the latter's instances save for the mushroom-like caps jutting off of spindly arms, hanging idly behind them like little strands of white with little tips. One might almost think they would glow with how starkly they contrasted the otherwise grotesque, decomposed creatures clearly somewhat impatient on the operation.

"Surely more would heed," One of them spoke, its voice a deep gurgle filtered through the auto-translators wired into its throat. "This mission's bounty is great. Would our new companion know more?"

 

[Universe]

Imported post - written by lavalung​

Zuruzala's yellow-red eyes boggled a bit when observing the tarrhaidim, wondering if the fungoid creature's haze of particles was some kind of spore or pheromone communication method. The creatures were more advanced and therefore deserved respect, but it was harder to figure out how to please someone when you couldn't quite make out what was their face.

"Five others of Silanbar. They are in the leaves." The grey snake bit their lip a little and coiled the tail, some hidden frustration restrained. "This is called... Scouts... They are aiding of masters with... Ambush?... Information with them eyes?..."

It wasn't too much of a mystery what was going on, though Zuruzala wasn't about to undermine themselves by saying it explicitly. All of the other races here were larger, more experienced and with more advanced weapons. The other Silanbar were hiding, observing, deciding

which way the wind was going to blow

in this fight, before swooping in to take credit for being involved at the very last minute. It wasn't that they didn't trust the other mercenaries, it was just survival and pragmatism in it's purest form.

"I will give you datas." The one creature that had found their way out of the woodwork spoke, breaking the air of tension by getting a little closer to the large blue-armoured eel-monster, producing something like a crude copy of one of their handheld sensor devices. The image on the screen showed a reasonably accurate amber map of the surrounding forest, with a spiderweb of transmissions criss-crossing between the other five auxiliaries. So far, all of them seemed alive and without enemy creatures to report. "Or if you want me to moves, I can tells them. They would listen to yours. Honoured uplifter."

The baleful gaze given to them by the other gealtirocht stung a lot more than the undecipherable alien blankness that the giant insects and the mushrooms gave off. Made them wonder if they were making the right choice by coming out openly like this... But the one in the pale blue armour, yes, with all the similar skin markings and that magnificent leering form, that was

exactly

what her race was trying to become...

They would stick close to that one, and do their best to actually be of some use this time.

 

[Universe]

imported post - written by farzi​

A trio of gunships flew low and fast; heavy, blocky and menacing, bristling with cannons and rockets-enough firepower to take on an armor battalion and enough armor to ensure their survival. The men inside were similar to the vessels that ferried them-heavily armed and armored-with large rifles able to stop even the largest of creatures and lay low power armor in a few volleys, machine pistols and revolvers' more comparable to hand cannons than actual side arms. At their sides hung knives, as well as either an axe or hammer. The armor they wore was a marvel of conventional infantry protection-a series of interlocking armor plates combing a carbon based-graphite external plating combined with heavy monomolecular plate and composite materials with faceless helmets, painted in jungle camo instead of the usual blue grey. Several carried thick, heavy shields the size of a man able to take all but the heaviest of weapons-further augmented by a hyper-efficient shield generator enhancing its protective capabilities. This, combined with their personal body armor, sheer mental fortitude bordering on what some would see as insanity and innate durability and strength made for an exceptionally difficult opponent to match, if not outright overwhelm.

These were the men of the Iron Company, a mercenary unit from a dead universe and a dying galaxy-hardened by the terrors their ancestors left behind in their madness, and the horrors of war where slaughter was the norm, and if the enemy could they would.

"So, why are we here again?" Came a voice over the radio-the language spoken was harsh and eldritch in nature-some would mistake it for spell casting, but for those who knew of them, this was not the case. One of the pilots was currently grumbling about having to ferry a group of grunts over some jungle world they'd come across by pure accident. "Simple," Came a gruff reply, "We're here to conduct a survey of the world-it's pure accident our patrol even wound up out here in the first place." The speaker was a young man, dressed in the same armor of the as the men around them with a black star on the shoulder instead of the bronze trim normal to someone of his rank-a Squire by the name of Revjak, son of Bjorn the Greater, "Grandmaster wants it surveyed in so it can be used as a possible fall back point in the event relation sour with the NDC, or at the very least so we can set up a colony on an inhabitable world." The patrol-a trio of the Comapny's Swordbreaker Class Patrol vessels had conducting a routine patrol hunting pirate vessels, when a jump had landed them here instead of their intended destination. They'd eventually been able to reestablish contact with forces back in the Crimson Abyss, and that's when their orders came through.

"In other words-we're here as pathfinding operation-nothing more." The answer the man gave made sense, but at the same time...

"So the Knight-Captain sent three squads?" The pilot asked as they began looking for a place to set down, "Wouldn't it make more sense just to send a fire team?" Revjak sighed and adjusted his pack. "Normally yes, but aside from the initial scans, we don't have much info to go on." As far as he knew, the scans showed some indication that planet was habitable-though some interference, mainly from the jungles prevented a deeper scan. The patrol had also taken precautions to avoid the other ships in sector-while the patrol craft had the endurance and power to punch above their weight class-it was smarter to simply stay out of the way. "We still have comms with the ships?" A pause. "Yeah, though little choppy though, short-wave's coming in fine, though."

Alright, so comms are a little iffy. "Get encryption going, 12 key, set algorithm to generate random key based on bursts of cosmic radiation." A pause. "Roger that. We're coming up on a clearing-land?" The Squire nodded, and the three ships set down as the doors to the troop compartments slid open-the soldiers rushing out to establish a perimeter. Each squad of twelve men set up overlapping fields of fire, with shieldbearers up front, thumbs on the shield activator as they put their machine pistols through the firing ports on the side. Their rifle wielding compatriots set up behind them as the specialists prepared flamers and launchers. "Alright, gunships remain in the air on standby, we'll call you if we need you." The ships took off as the squads began their advance into the jungle, moving slow and steady, their training as both soldiers and hunters of beasts potentially proving advantageous in this environment, assuming a staggered line formation to make movement easier in the cramped environment that could quickly be brought up at a moments notice to engage a potential foe.

The jungle enveloped them moments later, the silence save for wildlife and the odd rustling of leaves proving eerie as the moved far quieter than they should have been able, staying in sight of each other and checking EKG units when they couldn't see. Revjack himself stayed towards the middle of his squad, eyes scanning the forest around him as they steeled themselves for any potential predators, be they animal, human or otherwise...

 

[Universe]

Imported post - written by lavalung​

An odd, arcane drawl of chatter suddenly spurted from the brass radio in Zuruzala's hand, and they clutched it to their ear as one might a cone shell from the ocean.

Webbed claws clicked through several frequencies of their ear translator, before they gave up and clicked it off completely.

*"Dya harbu ghawlhba nyuba?"*

Their own tongue.

*"Bishbrinti... har--........Ghawlhba dyug?... I-Intemba dya..."*

Another couple of clicks and button presses, now fooling around with the almost toy-like computer device again. It was showing the same screen of the other hidden scout units, with small bars now appearing periodically across the net. It was acting as a makeshift sensor array of sorts, and calculating the location of the new signal by relative strength.

More clicks, changing their neck implant back to an understandable tone.

"Moving aliens... We hear-hear them talk!... Not recognise talkings!" The snake looked up at their alien overlord with unease. "...Noise-Noise come... then static... then go-go... Into leaves, must have? It moved, so that mean is ship, is?"

A bit hard to tell if Zuruzala had begun sweating, or if they were just generally gross like this. At least this situation proved they had actual intelligence, and weren't just lucking out due to lack of detectable technology, though.

"If lose signal in forest, and not just turn off signal, then... Must have land-land, least one of them kilo-meter north?..."

 

[Universe]

Imported post - written by adornedinwrath​

"A coincidence most concerning. A deviation from the plan. Perhaps these aliens are assistance... or a sign that our beasts do not fight alone." A rough rasp escaped his throat, non-verbal in phrasing but dense and grating in sound. Visceral emotion spewed forth, initially as wrath but in actuality, determination and excitement. Beneath the most advanced armour in the Sector, the pulsing heart of a tradition ancient and predatory reared its piscine head. More rasps, menacing as the looming obscurity that surrounded them but turning into a long textured bellow-song. Not quite a prayer, but a promise of what was to come.

The vrexul duo appeared impassive. Their antennae waved about with the carefree whimsy of such spindly appendages while eye-domes scoured the wilderness surrounding them. They were not loud enough for the sound to penetrate too deeply into the murk but such displays of bravado were lost on them. Work was work and the culture of bravado their tribal compatriots embodied was merely a byproduct of action and practice. More curious were they in the findings Zuruzala's allies had found. A lesser limb emerged from the torso-side of the smaller vrexul, spindly and diminuitive against its massive body, pointing at it its device then gesturing upwards. It spoke not, merely motioning for them to raise the device so its nine foot high head could take a look at the screen.

Unlike them, the cadaveric tarrhaidim were deep in conversation. Not entirely with words or bestial sounds but Zurzula would be able to *feel* the information being passed between them. It was subtle at first, ignorable even for a trained soldier. Creeping unease at the edges of consciousness, speech that did not seem to occupy the physical dimension nor the mental one, but eventually could be determined as being independent of one's thoughts, even if they seemed to emerge from them. A quick glance towards the fester-fungoids showed a few flashing dim bioluminescence across their features with little, meagre flashes of green and red. A dull throbbing drone emerged from their bodies, modulating meaning as they conversed in their half-psychic speech, doubtful and cautious from what little one might be able to discern from the cryptic method of communication.

"Our areas of interest are marked on our digital displays. Surely however, this landing will have alerted the beasts. Our unexpected guests may also find themselves unexpected bait. The same goes to your scouts."

With enough time having passed, the apparent leader of the squad took his first steps towards the perpetual night of the woods. With a few final glances towards civilization, the rest of the squad followed. Their heavy armour and weaponry simply became part of the ambience of the forest, steps melting into the soundscape as they began a steady advance northwards. The wilderness for many, was merely a second home. Centuries of advancement in technology and culture had not suppressed more primal instincts, merely augmenting them. Stalking with intent stern and violent, the predators-turned-commandos homed in on the Iron Company.

- --

The aircraft's descent hadn't merely been noticed by the silbanar scouts. The woods were alive but not just with creature and superstition but forces more definite and dangerous in their capabilities. Gunships hovering above, heavily armored troopers marching below - the entity did not salivate, chitter, hiss, nor bristle. It watched and observed, a network of eyes within and without tracking motion, seeing the colour of heat against the blackness of the sky, and the scent of flesh and metal foreign to this world. A chattery swarm, sending signals shrouded with whatever arcane arts they possessed to their friends beyond the atmosphere, like old diving suits tethered to large vessels. Cruelty and hunger swam amidst murky thoughts; these woods were meant to be shrouded and it did not plan to let them maintain their communications for long. Soon, the same ravenous, maddening night that had consumed previous attempts to map these woods would come to them.

It could not reveal its hand too soon, nor could its allies. These were strangers in its domain unknowing of its rules. They moved as if ready for a great battle of brutal, long-range fire and overwhelming power. Weaponry and armour like statues of some mythic warriors of old draped in the advancement of contemporary starfaring civilization; an ill-fitting garb into this realm that cared not for such decadent excesses.

It could however, gain their attention. They didn't really know were going after all. Even better, they were not really alone. When their vessel first descended, it had caught the attention of some sort of scouting unit. One aligned with the interests of the Sector and now in the sights of its lurking hands.

At the furthest edges of the Iron squad's sight, movement rapid and frenetic. Quadripedal, hexapedal, frenetic and rushed. Almost silent if not for the crackling of fallen branches and whooping, whistling calls that followed in their wake. Deep into the woods, the beasts of indeterminate shape and form could be seen scattering a wild and unruly array as the near-shapeless predators that had caused this whole mission converged on the location of one such silbannar scout.

 

[LavaLung]

Having no central command structure was a double edged sword. The lone scout knew they were on their own, as much as their 'comrades' were listening in. Data was gathered on the approaching creatures in the manner of simply recording their own communication methods, trying to ascribe some kind of order to the madness.

This didn't exactly help the singular Silanbar figure coiled around a branch, twenty foot up a tree, watching the alien monsters start to encroach them. They could play dead and rely on their lack of advanced technology to go undetected, but that didn't always work if the enemy was smart. They could run, but they could be damn sure the enemy was better adapted to the environment.

They took a variant of the second option, skulking down the tree with haste, and plonking down onto the forest floor with a practiced lack of noise. Then, assuming that the monsters were already on his take, he took and escape route that was just a few dozen paces from the landing site of these armoured aliens. If they opened fire, it would probably distract them!

---

Zuruzula, back with the main force, was not convinced of his survival chances. They didn't even know who's side either of these things were on.

"Scout Horoston has made contact with target-monster-creatures." They looked up, then at their communicator, then up at the occasionally continuing sparks of the Tarrhaidim's bioluminescent display. It was a little difficult to tell if they were personally too stupid and missing something here. "What are you order is?"

 

[Commissar Farzi]

Moments before the Silanbar Scout's escape attempt

The sudden noise and movement cause a pause in the unit. Revjak held up a hand-that disturbance definitely wasn't anything natural-his years spent as a woodsman and then the las six as a member of the company had honed his instincts for this sort of thing to a razor's edge. "Bayonet's out, now." He hissed, as the riflemen hit the catches on their weapons-a seven-inch spike came out with a snick from under the barrels. His eyes scanned, watching the movement of the underbrush and tracking the sudden burst of fauna as several of what might have been herbivores bounded past and through them-the soldiers shifting slightly to allow them through without disrupting their formation over much.

At least it gave them some kind of indication of where whatever it was at-likely either a very large animal that'd been spooked by their arrival, or possibly a predator that was now pursuing its prey. The latter was probably more likely than the former. "Alright, maintain formation, tighten it up-anti-fauna formation-hold fire till I give the order-gunships standby." It wouldn't be the first time they'd run across some critter or abomination of nature that'd tried to hunt them in place of their natural prey; the soldiers took up a circular formation while using the natural environment to provide something of a barrier, covering all angles including above them-no sense in allowing something to drop into the middle and try to wipe them out

After Scout's escape attempt

The sudden shift along their right side got his attention. "Alright, get ready people-we're about to be neck deep in it." Chances are whatever it was might have decided that they'd make a good snack instead of their intended victim. Safeties were off and the men ready to fire as soon as their target's emerged.

(OOC): Overwatch engaged.

 

[A_Bibor_Farkas]

The mass of a hulking grey ship, both grand and imposing, though its initial use is or was, for colonization of a new home. The green and mustard yellow emblem of the Tower of Babel, was emblazoned across the ships starboard side. Large Ion thrusters slowly propelling the behemoth forward.

The bridge was bustling with life, scans showing what seem to be abandoned space ports on the planet, and an additional presence staying just out of Orbit along the otherside of the planets face. A woman in blue utility coveralls, rushed back and forth, from the communications officer to the captains chair. " ma'am... the dropships are still not fully operational. Scans show multiple energy readings on the opposite side of the planet, as well as what could be spaceports on the surface. What are your orders?."

The older woman, sitting in the captains chair, began tapping a heavily sun-kissed hand against her knee. The now aged Babel Armed Military Force Officers uniform marked with ribbons and a single pin adorning the woman's chest. The pin showed downward facing gauntlet, with wings protruding from the wrist."first contact, broadcast over any radio waves we can find, see if there are any signs of life. And get one of the dropships operational. In the meantime. Launch three full fireteams, two OST teams and wake up the 1st SPG." The Admiral had been charged with the Safety of the Colony ship and that was her plan. Despite the grin she showed. The now well aged, former Orbital Shock trooper herself. The nametag reading Willard, her excitement was plain for all to see, despite her calm tone. The communications technician snapped to, and quickly began contacting the necessary decks,, to prepare for a long range Orbital drop and the subsequent Drop pod carrier.

As the Colony ship bustled like a busy hivemimd of bees, all working to achieve their singular goal, a broadcast began to play on any unprotected channels.

"ALL STATIONS ALL STATIONS, THIS IS ADMIRAL PRIMROSE WILLARD OF THE BABEL ARMED MILITARY FORCES. WE DO NOT WISH FOR ANY ARMED ENGAGEMENTS EITH YOUR PEOPLE. ANY BABEL FORCES MET ON THE SURFACE OF YOUR PLANET, ARE SEEN AS ENVOYS OF THE LADY ISHTAR HERSELF. WE ONLY WISH FOR A MUTUAL RELATIONSHIP."

The message played on a loop as the hours passed the drop pods with their heavy armoured shock troopers, and Special Project Group scouts. Were now ready to be fired toward the planet. The large almost conical looking contraption held twelve pods all ready for their intended target. Alarms blared with flashing lights, as the system warned technicians of the loading process. As a grizzled voice broadcasted through the Scouts helmets." We don't know what to expect on the ground. But remember, hearts and minds first, we do not have the support to start a war. Keep your wits about you. Now let's show our Lady why we are her chosen." The fireteam and expedition leader,master sergeant Leto Kasperian patched into the Ships communication terminal one final time prior to the "thorns" departure. " this is Master Sergeant Kasperian, Thorn sero one is prepped, all systems are nominal. We are clear for dispersion." The Admirals face, still in her excited grin responded with Fervor." Thorn Zero One may the Lady protect you." As she spoke, her hand motioned to the ship technicians on the bridge, firing the team through a magnetic slingshot. Their course was charted for ruins near a massive forests edge.

 

[AdornedInWrath]

"We're moving. The scout is probably dead. One more needless casualty. Let this be a lesson for the future."

The crackle came out of the com speaker of a helmet laying on the ground, sounding out over the sound of thrashing limbs and scraping against tree bark and leafy soil. What could have been a cry sounded out, muted by a heavy thud and popping, cracking noise. Not of branches breaking but bone and metal.

Something could be seen moving in the treeline; lengthy and indeterminate but certainly predatory in its elongated shape. Enormous, larger than any of the Iron squad but supernaturally lithe in a way that bordered on lizard-like or serpentine. A lengthy lifeform of some sort was pulled down from above in the branches to vanish into the bushy obscurity below.

"There may be others coming but the window of opportunity is too narrow to let out. Our pace will be relentless. Follow."

The gealtirocht's voice crackled from the helmet's coms amidst the muted, visceral death that had just taken place. Scattered weaponry and equipment surrounded the buzzing helmet as digitigrade legs stomped about, pacing restlessly asthe looming shapes pondered the next course of action. A likely hostile group was approaching, likely aware that something terrible had just gone down in front of them.

But so was another group of hostiles; one they knew was here to hunt them in particular. The bipeds were coming in great number and soon, they would be a grand hunting party. Horrible in all their destructive capacity they might be, their continued survival was not entirely derived from the sheer devastation left in their wake. This was not the first time they were hunted but this time, it was not the militia sending unwilling sacrifices for their violent hunger.

These ones seemed lesser suited for such an environment like large, black beetles stocky and unwieldy in these primal depths. Yet they could feel the tension that emanated from them and the lack of ease with which they wandered this primal wilderness. It wasn't going to be long before both parties converged and by all accounts, it was likely they were on the same side.

Perhaps that was a good thing. It was easier to slit a single neck rather than a hundred.

Spoiler: BGM: Skáphe - XIII - The Shrill Cracks and Moan

"We ping the unidentified squad first. They were probably here for the mission but got sent off course. You two, keep those cannon-rifles on overwatch. Zurzula, get ready to-"

The crackle from the helmet turned into a static fuz as deep and sonorous rumble began to shake the leaves and the branches of the jungle. Insects and other small, creeping creatures the Iron Squad was not even aware of leapt off of branches and out of the ground, scattering wildly as the raw sensation of terror swept over the ground. Leaves began to curl as if withering, branches rattling even in the absence of wind, and animals that had not escaped shuddered in their hovels.

A coldness swept through the area and from afar, something gazed at the Iron Sqad. It was impossible to look back into its eyes presuming it had them; the creatures were amorphous black blurs of looming shadow in the low light conditions. Thus their sight was not "seen" but felt; a profane and intrusive sensation as a coldness that chilled not the skin but consciousness itself scoured across the Iron Squad''s armour and into their flesh. It was the primordial instinct and fear of the lurking and the unknown, communicated through some cryptic, arcane way that seemed just for a moment to link whatever bestial consciousness hid in that wilderness to that of a sapient, civilized individual.

Some of them might feel their sight blurring, readings on sensors pinging wildly as the indeterminate entities began to gain some semblance of shape, as if the shadows themselves were melded by some sort of negation of the principles of light and dark. Blackness congealed and molded against a form that was lengthy and serpentine as previously seen yet neither limbless nor slithering. Like some ceremonial crown a hooded crest seemed to begin not even at the tip where the head should be but lower down, splaying out with long pointed appendages almost like cascading layers of limbs. It was distintly like some luminescent polychaete worms - brush-like appendages across its sides yet with longer, trailing appendages akin to teuthidodrilus samae hanging like a gown of limbs across its upper torso.

For a brief hour its eyeless face, a nightmare of hole-like sensory organisms, pom-pom like sensor tendril clusters, and some sort of jutting metal shell-armour silhouetted in the radiant blackness, stared into their psyche. Something sweeter than flesh invited its hunger; they did not think that. The very idea of such a line of thought seemed to emerge from subconscious, as if it could peer into the lower-most depths of consciousness where light did not reach but deeper needs and hungers dwelled. The obscurity of the woods swallowed them; as if they were never there and the blackness cast upon them had returned to fill the emptiness of their absence.

The whine-whistle of a semi-silenced weapon broke the mere seconds of silence that had been stretched into a false minute. The foul communion vanished as an afterimage, the veil of perverse revelation cast upon their minds torn away as a hyper-accelerated spine whistled through the air, tearing through leaves and branches. No ping or tear echoed out but the sound of countless legs tearing at dirt and dense bodies slithering over debris-laden soil followed. A silence would have ensued if not for the tense, militant advance of the ZRS group.

"I see you've had a taste of our problem. It would have been more convenient if you had landed at the original rendez-vous point."

The same voice that spoke over the radio emerged from behind two lumbering, arthropod like vrexul, flanked by the rotted fungoid tarrhaidim, a few more of its digitigrade legged fellow predators spread out along the sides.

"We were expecting a lot of help. If help is what you're here for, after all."

To the Sector's infantry, they were alien all the same - unfamiliar patterns, unfamiliar armor, a gunship hovering about like a hawk circling for prey. Bipedal in shape, but clad in the ornaments of warfare. The shot they had fired could be considered their welcoming gift, forcing the entities to evacuate.

"Because if not, I'm afraid we do not bear good news."

---

The space above Lagrandstadt had become quite busy as of late and it was commonplace to greet a variety of vessels whether military or civilian in origin. Security had been increased due to the sheer influx and the fact that large swathes of the planet had been rendered as no man's lands. Business had slowed as a result due to the carnage that had unfolded below but it had not stopped and even the might of the Sector's monstrous, sometimes literally living fleets could not put a stop to that.

To their relief, the lumbering ship on approach wasn't adding to the queues of increasingly annoyed and verbally abrasive long-range corporate haulers and manufacturing vessels. They were alone and soon, hailing the spore-like biomechanical defensive platform, its various weapons busy tracking hundreds of other potential targets around the vessel.

Armed forces? It seemed it didn't seem as entirely civilian as it seemed. That was a good thing; the problem on the ground was going to take a while to uproot most likely. It was not long before the colony ship was receiving a notification for open communications of its own.

"UNKNOWN VESSEL - PRESUMED PURPOSE OF MILITARY ASSISTANCE - PLEASE ALLOW FOR DATA TRANSFER - INFORMATION PACKAGE CONCERNING HOSTILE PRESENCE - PERSONNEL ON THE G-"

The dry, pulsing voice of androgynous machinery cut abruptly as readings across not just the station but the ships in this area of the planet's exo-space being bombarded by an array of chaotic, disruptive signals. Sensor equipment went haywire and cameras were awash with static - even the bio-optics used by many ZRS vessels simply blacked out. Lights flickered and blinked, a few engines dimming and restarting, nearly causing a few collisions between smaller haulers followed by intermittent, broken-up arguments over the coms. Multiple alerts were rapidly shared between the ships whether colonial, foreign, or Sector.

Whatever it was that had been awakened on Lagrandstadt, it didn't seem to be happy about the new guests.

"... PLEASE CONFIRM IF MESSAGE SENDING WAS SUCCESSFUL. ANOMALOUS ACTIVITY HAS BEEN DETECTED. SIGNAL ON VESSEL-DEPLOYED DROP PODS LOST. UNABLE TO TRACK. PLEASE EXERCISE CAUTION."