02-25-2010, 10:09 AM
**Accessing Secure Archives**
**Accessing File No.Omega34237**
**Displaying: The Taking of Recon Five**
Lord Praetorian Telemachus Gordian observed his men preparing for the coming assault. He watched as they checked their warsuits integrity, and ensuring their weapons were in perfect working order. He was proud of his warriors, their armour gleaming with black light, their visors glowing a soft malevolent green. How he wished he could shake the hand of the articifer who designed this dreadful suits, built to inspire fear and panic in their enemies.
The boarding tube shuddered violently as it clamped itself to the hull of the offending vessel, the shriek of metal against metal as the tube forced its way to the interior, audible even through the airtight suits. A timer set into the ceiling started blinking off a countdown.
"Stand ready!" Gordian barked, his voice holding a quiet menace that compelled those who heard it to obey without question. "Take none alive. This I command!"
His men formed a wedge, a tactical manouver as old as time itself, and Gordian took his place at it's tip. He drew his sword, a gift from King Drissinia himself, and gazed at the reflection in its polished surface. It had slain countless people and would continue to do so for many years to come.
At the same time as the countdown signal the forward section of the tube fanned open revealing an opening, it's edges glowing white, then red as they cooled. Beyond that, a smoky corridor strewn with the bodies of those who had been going about their business when the tube had ruptured the inner walls of the ship. Whether they were lucky or not was a matter of opinion.
Leading the charge, he powered his way into the corridor, sword hacking at those come to investigate the commotion. With the discipline of years of training his men split and headed toward their designated areas. Already they would be forcing themselves into the engine room. He grinned at the prospect of carnage that would ensue. He headed to his target, knowing full well that the remaining warriors would be on his heels.
Rounding the corner, a barrage of small arms fire ricocheted off of his armour. Barely slowing him, he roared in defiance at the two who had the audacity to challenge him. Throwing himself at the enemy, his foot landed squarely in the chest of one fool with a sickening crunch, while his sword cleaved through the other before the first had even hit the ground. Without missing a beat he drove forward, heading for the command deck.
Gordian reached the access portal of the bridge, the whole operation having lasted no more than 10 minutes so, confusion and panic spreading quickly through out the ship. He held out his hand. Almost instantly one of his men handed him a cylinder, approximately one foot long, pressed the activation stud and rolled it into the access portal. Holding up a hand he counted down with his fingers... Five... Four... Three... Two... One...
Screams issued from the bridge, quickly replaced with sickly, gurgling sounds. Then nothing.
Gordian walked triumphantly on to the bridge. Twisted, convulsing bodies could be seen writhing through the gas, blood pouring from every orifice.
He reached up and activated the communicator built into his helmet. "My Lord. The ship is ours."
**End of Archive**
**Accessing File No.Omega34237**
**Displaying: The Taking of Recon Five**
Lord Praetorian Telemachus Gordian observed his men preparing for the coming assault. He watched as they checked their warsuits integrity, and ensuring their weapons were in perfect working order. He was proud of his warriors, their armour gleaming with black light, their visors glowing a soft malevolent green. How he wished he could shake the hand of the articifer who designed this dreadful suits, built to inspire fear and panic in their enemies.
The boarding tube shuddered violently as it clamped itself to the hull of the offending vessel, the shriek of metal against metal as the tube forced its way to the interior, audible even through the airtight suits. A timer set into the ceiling started blinking off a countdown.
"Stand ready!" Gordian barked, his voice holding a quiet menace that compelled those who heard it to obey without question. "Take none alive. This I command!"
His men formed a wedge, a tactical manouver as old as time itself, and Gordian took his place at it's tip. He drew his sword, a gift from King Drissinia himself, and gazed at the reflection in its polished surface. It had slain countless people and would continue to do so for many years to come.
At the same time as the countdown signal the forward section of the tube fanned open revealing an opening, it's edges glowing white, then red as they cooled. Beyond that, a smoky corridor strewn with the bodies of those who had been going about their business when the tube had ruptured the inner walls of the ship. Whether they were lucky or not was a matter of opinion.
Leading the charge, he powered his way into the corridor, sword hacking at those come to investigate the commotion. With the discipline of years of training his men split and headed toward their designated areas. Already they would be forcing themselves into the engine room. He grinned at the prospect of carnage that would ensue. He headed to his target, knowing full well that the remaining warriors would be on his heels.
Rounding the corner, a barrage of small arms fire ricocheted off of his armour. Barely slowing him, he roared in defiance at the two who had the audacity to challenge him. Throwing himself at the enemy, his foot landed squarely in the chest of one fool with a sickening crunch, while his sword cleaved through the other before the first had even hit the ground. Without missing a beat he drove forward, heading for the command deck.
Gordian reached the access portal of the bridge, the whole operation having lasted no more than 10 minutes so, confusion and panic spreading quickly through out the ship. He held out his hand. Almost instantly one of his men handed him a cylinder, approximately one foot long, pressed the activation stud and rolled it into the access portal. Holding up a hand he counted down with his fingers... Five... Four... Three... Two... One...
Screams issued from the bridge, quickly replaced with sickly, gurgling sounds. Then nothing.
Gordian walked triumphantly on to the bridge. Twisted, convulsing bodies could be seen writhing through the gas, blood pouring from every orifice.
He reached up and activated the communicator built into his helmet. "My Lord. The ship is ours."
**End of Archive**