Act 1 - Another Glorious Day in the Corps!

[Admin]

On board U.S. Colonial Marine Frigate, "Dyson" its crew of a single strike team, Synethetic and two auxiliary personnel awake from Hypersleep and prepare for the mission ahead, with the enormousness Service Station of Hades looms over the Frigate which is quite a large craft by her own right.
Lieutenant James Silburn gives his briefing to seven other people in his Strike Team before mounting up into the APC loaded already inside of the Dropship. "Gentlemen the situation once aboard Hades should be considered Hostile, we have a lock on the Colonial Marine PTD's on board that will be our first point of interest to investigate. It seems Lieutenant Jarett and his Strike Team are together and holding out within the Primary Complex inside of the Natural Habitat. They have much of the stations personnel with them in that location so watch your fire on Civilian targets if they have gone renegade or are being held by Corporate personnel. Remember do not fire first. There is also some more civilians in the secondary complex reading close to ten"

He flicks through some notes in front of him. "It also seems there may be a Xenomorph involved-"

Private Lawley puts his hands up, "Excuse me Sir, a what?"

Silburn eyes Lawley a moment then answers; "An alien creature yet to be identified. It may be dangerous - However reports are probably false about these creatures"

Sergeant Jamison glares at Lawley, "You heard the man, its a search and secure - we have friendlies in trouble and I expect each and every one of you to be on the ball for this one!"

After a pause Silburn continues; "Alright Gentlemen, everyone mount up - Lets keep this by the book." He moves to step up the Dropship's ramp and into the APC loaded inside.

Apex and Sulo of the Auxiliary Corps took the Dropship into dock at the bottom of the Service Base into it's hanger. After depositing the APC it takes off once more leaving the hanger and returning to the Frigate which is only has the Synthetic at this point crewing it.

The Strike Team deploys with trained efficiency, all seven Colonial Marines disembarking and leaving only Silburn and Corporal Dekker on board the APC to drive and gun it if necessary and to man the command station's sophisticated computer and communication systems.

The Strike Team is greeted by dim emergency lighting of the station, causing all Marines to go to their fatigue mounted lights as they walk through the deserted hanger bay featuring loading and repair equipment. The Elevator was not responding causing the team to use the Cargo Conveyor to travel up a substantial climb via ladder into the stations lower cargo holds, gallery and inoperative cargo transporter. Again everything was still deserted with no signs of life, the gallery held more disturbing clues as food had been left out on plates inside the room.

Traveling up again into the stations main computers and engineering room the Team discovered the lack of power to vital systems was because there seemed like a "war" had occurred in the chambers with many of the computers offline to damage of the explosive and acidic kind. After some work in these rooms one of the Marines manages to hook power back up to the elevator which hums to life however shows that it is obstructed several decks up and can not move. Deciding that enough time had been spent using the hour to try and rework power into the lift Sergeant Jamison confers with the Lt. and decide to continue traveling up the decks on foot. At this stage the Lt. advises to watch weapons fire and not to penetrate the hull of the station with any major blasts as they are not equipped to deal with vacuum conditions.

The group passes up more decks, coming to the out of service escalator and walking up it as if it was stairs, upon reaching the top however everything they know changes. The walls on these higher decks are covered in some sort of black organic material that seems to interfere with communications and sensors including the motion tracker. Deciding that the interference would not disrupt communications to badly as a signal can still be sent and received the team presses on this time far more aware of their surroundings.

Everything went wrong upon reaching the natural habitat. The Colonial Marines found the missing station personnel and Strike Team and were shortly after attacked by the 'walls themselves', creatures black as space itself and blending in naturally with their surroundings took and killed much of the squad while Jamison attempted to receive orders from Silburn, explosions happened breaking the plastasteel glass holding back the vacuum of space which despite sucking out a Marine as well as some of the black humanoid creatures gave the marines time to 'pull out'. In the retreat from the chaos the marines had no choice but to split up, some leaving with the Sergeant towards the southern exit the group had entered by, however with the vacuum and onset of seemingly hundreds of contacts of these abominations the other half were forced to retreat in a much different direction towards the top and through the cafe or what they thought was the cafe with the creatures renovating it was hard to tell what was what.

Somewhere on the retreat contact was lost completely with both the second group lead by Sergeant Jamison and Lt. Silburn back at the APC so the group continued its retreat until out of the area taken by the black walled substance which lead them to near the top of the Primary Sector now held out in a small room that once served those who lived there as a lounge for the administrative officers four decks down from the stations bridge. This is to the left hand side of the station with the communications just three deck above it, and now the remaining Marine Privates dwell in the low lightning of the emergency power hovering around tables and chairs and the small supply of fine foods and ample supply of spirits. The door has not been completely sealed yet and can be opened by anyone pressing the switch outside or inside.

[DEATH]

wth his eyes wide open nuts looks around the room quickly looking for other exits, changing out his empty mag as he does so, the magazine clinking loudly as it impacts aginst the metalic deck
"can somone tell me what the F*ck just happened back there" nuts says as he slams a fresh clip into his pulse rifle and leaveling it at the door they just entered from

[whitescar]

Bronx Leans back against the wall, sweat beading from his forehead and falling in rivulets down his cheeks into his collar in the cool air, the steam forming in wispy strams around his face. He is brreathing heavily, his slightly dazed eyes darting around the surroundings.
"I have no idea ... but we just got it handed to us on a proverbial f#$%ing platter... i think i even swallowed the silver f@#$ing spoon. What in bejesus were those things? " He points vaguely at the door with his rifle ." That piece of tin aint gonna stop them things . We need tah get a defence perimeter setup and work the f#$% out what we gonna do."

[lord_luapssor]

The smell of charred flesh and the heating of metal wafts in to the room. Over the whoosing of flame a person can be heard yelling "I love the smell of... WHAT the hell are these thing any way!!!" The door slides open and Roy steps though, face and armour in a light covering of soot.Turns and closes the door. "Sorry I'm late but you know had to make sure that nobody was going to be following us in here though the corridors. Anybody else still out there? If not we might want to seal this door." Walks over to a table and checks his fuel levels. "Hmmf guess somebody in Intelligence really dropped the ball on this one." Twists the canister more tightly "Thats why we are Marines! First to GO, Last to Know!!! HOO-RAH"

[Admin]

The Position Tracker carried by one of the Marines continues the solemn beeping as it registers nearby PDT's, the lights in the compartment shine its dim glow over everyone present and the communications set worn in each fatigue outfit crackles with constant broken static as they fail to receive messages.

[Typhus]

as Bull wipe's the sweat from his forehead he sit's down he grab's a bottle of scotch and take's a big swig he then put's the bottle down and pulls out his chewing tobacco out of his vest and put's a golf ball size piece of it into his mouth and say's to everyone

"what the f#ck were those thing's?


he then hold's his tabacco pouch out and offer's it to enyone who want's some, no-one seem's to take any as they seem to be deciding Bull say's to them


"your a bunch of slack jawed f#ggots,this stuff 'll make you a god damn sexual tyrannosaurus...just like me"

[lord_luapssor]

Roy just smirks and shakes head at Bull. "Think the only f@ggot here is you Bull! Putting balls in your mouth. chuckles to himself. "Who has there tracker out Bronx? Nuts? can you how many Marines are left out there? I'll search the room seeing if there any other possible exits. Think I'll take my chances in the air ducts then with the F^cking moving walls!"

[Admin]

An Air Duct is found, quite large - Big enough to hold an entire person on their hands and knees as they crawl along but not quite large enough for a Machine Gun gyro-harness. A small bit of effort will pry the grill from the wall.

[whitescar]

Bronx stands up and raises the MT, examining the readout. It is audibly quiet at the moment.
"Alls clear at the mo' chaps" his eyes flick nervously towards the door "Wonder how long its gonna be like that. Did ya see what happened to Slim? the f##$ers tore him apart and ate 'im while he was still alive!"I'm sure i saw him still screamin as his head went down the things throat!"
He scans the tracker once more more closely to make sure its actually on.
"Wonder if we can hole up here and wait for the sarge?"

[Typhus]

Bll chuckle's to himself after hearing the what Roy had just said, looking around he notice's a grate in the wall and say'a to the group

"there's a grate here boy's..im going in, hey Roy i think this where i dropped your mum off last night after our date...she make's a mean breakfast and those leg's....great leg's"

Bull attmpts to pull the grate off the wall.

[lord_luapssor]

Nods to Bronx. Alright lets weld that door shut then. If we have we can cut it. Anybody know how to do that?" Looks around at all those that are gathered here. Walks over to the air duct and watches as Bull attempts to pry the grille off. "Hope you left the money on the night stand. I need my Pocket money for the week.". Turns and sits down at a table. "As I see it we have really 4 options. 1 we can stay here and wait for Sarge to come and get us, cuddle and tell us that everything is alright. Chances are we would get eaten by then. If he hasn't already. 2 we crawl up to the bridge try to contact the ship, APC anybody and wait and get eaten. 3 Crawl down to where the APC get the sentry guns and kills things. But might get eaten on the way. 4 we run back out there fire everything we got and hope that they will get indigestion from eating us. I would like try the bridge, fix the radio and see if anybody is out there."

[whitescar]

Bronx offers half a grin. "5, Wake up and get high once more and party all night long "

[lord_luapssor]

Roy hold the nozzle of his flamer up near his head and looks to Bronx. "Ive got the lighter right here and there is plenty of booze around" grins

[whitescar]

"Lookin' at those things though, I'm all for movin' cause if they get in here the f#$%ers will eat us in here with no where to go." he looks down once more the the MT, his pulse rifle gripped tightly in his other hand. "can ya get that grate off? Maybe we can sneak on through there."

[lord_luapssor]

Still seeing Bull prying off the grate Roy says Once our Sexual Tyranasaurus gets that grate well be leaving

[Admin]

With a thick metal crack the grating pries open. Exposing the ducking crawl-space leading on onto a turn left and right.

[Typhus]

as Bull is trying to pull the grate off he turn's and spit's a mouthfull of tobacco out which land's on his boot and say's out load

"AAHH shit these are new boot's i pulled them off a sleeping rookie"

he pull's a little harder at the grate and then suddenly the grate come's loose and Bull fall's back on his arse and let's out a few profenities

"f#ck me,....there you go boy's im going in"

as Bull enter's the crawl space he hear's some-one metion getting high and yell's back out to the group

"save some for me"

[whitescar]

With a loud guffaw, Bronx asks the others "reckon we can weld that grate back on now? night be a bit quieter." then he shoulders his rifle and holds the MT in front of him as he heads to the opening.

[Admin]

Progress is uncomfortable in the armor and fatigues of the Colonial Marines, after making some distance to the junction left and right the question becomes which way to make.

[Typhus]

as Bull is crawling through the vent he pause's for a moment and turn's back to the guy's and say's

"ssshhh....i hear something"

then he very slightly cock's his arse and let's out a huge fart which echoe's and sounds runny and comment's

"that's gunna stain...holy shit that reek's, burrito's and scotch dont mix"

[lord_luapssor]

Apon hearing Bull fart, Roy" shakes his head. "I'm glad I stayed back to weld up the door now, otherwise with a fart like that we would have blown up if I was behind you, you dirty bastard!". Tries to see around the other men in front of him. "Whats the hold up? I don't really like having my arse exposed like this. Pretty sure it would look tasty to them... what did the orificer's call them... Xenomorphs? "

[Typhus]

as Bull crawl's along the vent he comes to t-intersection and syop's briefly and say's to the marine's behind him

"which way boy's? left or right?"

while he is waiting for a reply he start's humming a tune and moving his arse from side to side.

[whitescar]

"Right ... its always right ..." mutters Bronx, still with his hand clamped over his nose friggin burroto's"

[Admin]

With loud thumps and clangs the group progresses along the right ducts, uncomfortable in their combat armor and fatigues with their weapons dragging and as for the Machine Gun removed from its harness to make it transportable under these conditions the group makes progress at a fairly decent speed, sighting two grates to the right and a duct going upwards with a ladder between them with the rest being out of torch range further along this very long section of ducts. The closest grate opens into the corridor outside the officers lounge.

[Typhus]

"right it is then"

as Bull is crawling through the vent he spit's out another lot chewing tobacco juice, he can feel bowel movement's happening and not wanting to tell the other's he clenche's his arse muscle's he start's saying

"cant hold it, cant hold it"...

Bull is trying his hardest to clench his arse nuscle's this time it's just worknig for him and all of the sudden he say's

"aaawww sh*t"

then with no warning at all he fart's but this time he follow's through a little bit and once he get's a wiff of what he has just done he stop's and ask's the boy's

"anyone else smell shit? who stepped in bug shit?"

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