“Credits. Transportation. My rewards.� The green urchin replied before giving the captain the location of the three-story Cliffside estate. The blob then did its best to look as expectant as an asymmetrical blob could possibly look.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Down in the stinky shadows of the slums, several families of Basilisks had been released from their enclosures and distributed around the area – namely in front of “Enaro’s Information Shoppe�, the small shack with a large and poorly written sign nailed to a tree above it.
Enaro sat sleepily behind his messy desk, occupying himself with a dancing-girl holo. A drunken freight crewmember obviously new to the city wandered towards the information shop, stumbling and randomly shouting. Enaro looked up just in time to see the drunk fall forward with serveral long barbs embedded in his back. Several Basilisk emerge from their concealed burrows and drag the inert drunk back into a nearby heap of junk. "Damn, might have got some credits off 'im. Maybe I should put up a sign or something..." Enaro shrugs and returns his attention to the attractive holo - mumbing about stupid offworlders.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Station-Master Fent looked over the room with quivering eyes and struggled helplessly for a moment. His reply was barely audible before he passed out from fear and lack of oxygen. “…from…Market.�
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Outside, in the now waning sunlight, a lean gnome suboid rushes along a winding path of the Cliffside Market still filled with people trying to find a place to wait out the Skeelzanian incursion. Ending up at a lavish restaurant aptly named “The Red Palace�, the gnome makes his way past the wealthy parties eating their early supper. Past the main hall, through the kitchen, and into a rather formidable looking meat locker – the door is closed from the outside by a heavy-set half-human guard.
Still keeping his brisk pace, the gnome nears a second door at the back of the meat locker. Rapping hard on the freezing metal surface, along with the short utterance of a password and a puff of white breath, the gnome evokes a pair of shining eyes from behind a now open slot in the door. With that once quick glance, the slot slides back into place and suddenly, a series of locks and clamps are released. The door opens.
The suboid hurries once more through winding, narrow corridors lined with ominous looking creatures and guards before finally reaching Master Waff’s chambers. “Update on Skeelzanian forces, Master Waff.�
“Mmmm, hmmm...� Waff dismissed his pampering trio of females for the moment as he took a swig of oily Landanix.
“Twenty squads have been dispatched to search the city. Two armored artillery vehicles still remain at the starport, along with their infantry detachments. I also have word that the Bazaar has been boarded…nothing further on that…�
“That is enough, follow my previously given instructions. If you interrupt me again with such boring events I will have your legs cut off and drop you into the Slums. Get out.�
“Yes Master Waff.�
Alive and Kicking (a RP)
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Skeelzania
- ESUS Nipple-o-rama
- Posts: 642
- Joined: Tue Jun 15, 2004 9:29 pm
The captain glared down at the quivering green mass, his face on the brink of a scowl. Turning to look over towards Cliffside manor, he whipped out a radio, issuing orders to the teams in the area. With his other hand, he calmly drew his pistol and pumped 8 rounds into the blob, not even bothering to look before shooting. He then singnaled the second of the two tanks, giving it the coordinates of the mansion. With another blech of exhaust, the massive Gregor turned towards the estate, giving its gun a clear shot.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Across the city three squads bounced to on the captain's orders. Shoving their way through any crowds, the thirty armed men arrived at the mansion enterance. Their leader, Corporal Bobaganush, "Bob" to his squadmates, pounded his fist on the door. "Open up! By order of the Grand Prince of Skeelzania, you are ordered to open these doors or we shall use force!"
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Van Cleef frowned as the gnome's eyes rolled back into his head. Letting the hatch snap back, he turned and tossed Master Fent on the floor. An orderly stepped forward, a steel bucket filled with ice-cold water in his hands. Tossing the bucket's contents onto the gnome, he stepped back into the shadows. The Admiral produced a in-ship communit, linked directly to the bridge. "GroOps? This is Van Cleef. Order the squads in the market place to intensify their search, we have some evidence he might be there."
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Down in the Market, Squad 13 finished checking their street and had just moved onto the next when the new orders came down. "Perfect, more work for us." One of the privates spat, not really caring if he hit one of the people mulling about. "Sarge, what do you think about that big red bastard up the street?"
Sgt. Zim squinted down the street, his hand shading his eyes from the glaring jungle sun. "Looks important, whatever the hell it is. Upscale most like. Squad, advance on the red building at 85 yards. Advance!" The two columns of soldiers forced their way through the crowds, reaching the entrance to the Red Palace a few minutes later. "Shitty looking club," growled Zim, "perfect hiding place for Whacky. Lets get in there and start searchin'."
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Across the city three squads bounced to on the captain's orders. Shoving their way through any crowds, the thirty armed men arrived at the mansion enterance. Their leader, Corporal Bobaganush, "Bob" to his squadmates, pounded his fist on the door. "Open up! By order of the Grand Prince of Skeelzania, you are ordered to open these doors or we shall use force!"
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Van Cleef frowned as the gnome's eyes rolled back into his head. Letting the hatch snap back, he turned and tossed Master Fent on the floor. An orderly stepped forward, a steel bucket filled with ice-cold water in his hands. Tossing the bucket's contents onto the gnome, he stepped back into the shadows. The Admiral produced a in-ship communit, linked directly to the bridge. "GroOps? This is Van Cleef. Order the squads in the market place to intensify their search, we have some evidence he might be there."
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Down in the Market, Squad 13 finished checking their street and had just moved onto the next when the new orders came down. "Perfect, more work for us." One of the privates spat, not really caring if he hit one of the people mulling about. "Sarge, what do you think about that big red bastard up the street?"
Sgt. Zim squinted down the street, his hand shading his eyes from the glaring jungle sun. "Looks important, whatever the hell it is. Upscale most like. Squad, advance on the red building at 85 yards. Advance!" The two columns of soldiers forced their way through the crowds, reaching the entrance to the Red Palace a few minutes later. "Shitty looking club," growled Zim, "perfect hiding place for Whacky. Lets get in there and start searchin'."
"Emperor of Skeelzania, Grand Prince of Solomon, Champion of the Guards, Defender of the Race, Lord of Hosts, and Heir to the Great Bad Skeelz."
Official title of the ruler of Skeelzania
Official title of the ruler of Skeelzania
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Bandalok
- The Mindset's Bitch
- Posts: 83
- Joined: Tue Jul 06, 2004 6:55 pm
- Prefix: The United States Of
- Name: Allanea
With each penetrating bullet, a short spurt of acidic green goo splatters against the momentarily unmoving treads of the Captain’s vehicle. The tentacle blob shudders for a moment and suddenly deflates, lying immobile and oozing out a pool of more green goo.
Waff’s Estate is a large, two-story squarish mansion with no more than thirty-five rooms small or large – slightly too few for its size. There is no surrounding landscaping, just the same hard-packed dirt as the starport. The locals, however, give it a wide berth.
Along the south face of the estate is a roofed overhang supported by a line of ornate marble pillars with bodies of frightening and marvelous creatures sculpted as though they were swimming in a stream of marble. On the top of the estate, perched pecariously, were several Elyogs. Under the overhang is the rather squat double-doored entrance to the estate. The west face holds a balcony on the second level that overlooks the Market and residential Treetops. A second, rusted metal, door located on the north face allows entrance through the kitchen.
Inside the estate, just beyond the south entrance, is a grand sweeping staircase leading up to the second level. To the left of the red staircase are the kitchen and cleaning rooms and subsequent dining room, and all associated worker quarters; some of which might still be occupied. To the right are all the leisure and play rooms – i.e., the pool and other entertainments you can think of.
The second level holds Waff’s master bedroom, and all visitor quarters. And unlike the ground level, the hallways are oddly warped and twisted, winding around similarly warped room outlines, just reeking of hidden rooms and passages, to give the illusion of an underground maze. All sorts of harmless little pets wander the maze openly.
The pounding at the front door merely sent a resounding echo into the empty grand entryway.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Onboard Admiral Van Cleef’s ship, cold water impacted Master Fent’s body like a thousand needles. His eyes snapped open, and within moments was on his feet, making a beeline for the door.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
“The Red Palace� is a large-ish building wedged into a carved out section of the cliff. Around the double glass-doors of the entrance, the palace’s name in the form of a long red couch is held up by a pair of white roman columns. Beyond the entrance is one wide open area, filled with long narrow tables and their accompaniment of long red couches. More tall, white columns spot the hall in distant, but regular rows. Jesters roam the aisles and cages occupied by dancers are suspended from the ceiling; providing entertainment for the tables. At the far end of the massive hall are the doors to the kitchen.
Guards are stationed throughout the main hall, as well as outside the palace entrance.
The pair of guards at the glass entrance confront the Skeelzanians. “Halt, you have no business disrupting this establishment’s operations.� The less muscular guard shifts nervously.
Waff’s Estate is a large, two-story squarish mansion with no more than thirty-five rooms small or large – slightly too few for its size. There is no surrounding landscaping, just the same hard-packed dirt as the starport. The locals, however, give it a wide berth.
Along the south face of the estate is a roofed overhang supported by a line of ornate marble pillars with bodies of frightening and marvelous creatures sculpted as though they were swimming in a stream of marble. On the top of the estate, perched pecariously, were several Elyogs. Under the overhang is the rather squat double-doored entrance to the estate. The west face holds a balcony on the second level that overlooks the Market and residential Treetops. A second, rusted metal, door located on the north face allows entrance through the kitchen.
Inside the estate, just beyond the south entrance, is a grand sweeping staircase leading up to the second level. To the left of the red staircase are the kitchen and cleaning rooms and subsequent dining room, and all associated worker quarters; some of which might still be occupied. To the right are all the leisure and play rooms – i.e., the pool and other entertainments you can think of.
The second level holds Waff’s master bedroom, and all visitor quarters. And unlike the ground level, the hallways are oddly warped and twisted, winding around similarly warped room outlines, just reeking of hidden rooms and passages, to give the illusion of an underground maze. All sorts of harmless little pets wander the maze openly.
The pounding at the front door merely sent a resounding echo into the empty grand entryway.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Onboard Admiral Van Cleef’s ship, cold water impacted Master Fent’s body like a thousand needles. His eyes snapped open, and within moments was on his feet, making a beeline for the door.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
“The Red Palace� is a large-ish building wedged into a carved out section of the cliff. Around the double glass-doors of the entrance, the palace’s name in the form of a long red couch is held up by a pair of white roman columns. Beyond the entrance is one wide open area, filled with long narrow tables and their accompaniment of long red couches. More tall, white columns spot the hall in distant, but regular rows. Jesters roam the aisles and cages occupied by dancers are suspended from the ceiling; providing entertainment for the tables. At the far end of the massive hall are the doors to the kitchen.
Guards are stationed throughout the main hall, as well as outside the palace entrance.
The pair of guards at the glass entrance confront the Skeelzanians. “Halt, you have no business disrupting this establishment’s operations.� The less muscular guard shifts nervously.
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Skeelzania
- ESUS Nipple-o-rama
- Posts: 642
- Joined: Tue Jun 15, 2004 9:29 pm
Corporal Bobaganush frowned at the door, vaguley hoping that would open it. "Alright, set the charges." The squads' two engineers rushed forward, satchel charges in hand. Deftly placing the minibombs around the door, they and the rest of the troops hustled back to the street. They laid down on the compact dirt, counting off the thirty-second fuse in their heads. 5...4...3...2...1... Bob covered his ears.
Ten seconds later, still covering his ears, the Corporal looked up at the door. "Sonofabitch engineers. Johnson!" Private Johnson, an indentured trooper on load from the Ministry of Justice, poked his head up. "Check those satchels! On the double, soldier!"
Scrambling towards the mansion, Johnson knelt infront of the first satchel. "Corporal, heres yer problem! Dem enginees fergot ta cross these here wires-" The charge detonated as Johnson crossed the wires, demonstrating it to the Engineers. While most of the blast was directed inward, enough shot out to vaporize Johnson's head.
Corporal Bobaganush ducked as an empty helmet whizzed by his head. "Squad! Advance!" His troops clambered out of the street, moving cautiously into the entry. "Serrick, take 5 men down that left passage. Petyr, you do the same with the right. I'll take the rest and search upstairs. Janacek, you stay here and guard the entrance. Move out!" Now in three groups, the Skeelzanians went their seperate ways, jittery privates snapping their weapons up at house pets.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
The soaking gnome flashed between the orderly's legs, taking him by surprise. "Get him!" barked the Admiral, just as the autodoor swung open, allowing Fent to dash down one of the corridors. No one had thought to lock it.
Two marine guards had been assigned to the doorway, but both had been dozing when it open. Expecting the Admiral to step out, they didn't notice the half-naked man running past their knees. By the time Van Cleef DID enter the corridor, Master Fent was no where in sight. Bringing out the communit, he began barking orders at Ship Security. "Intruder on board, escaped from section T. Sound intruder alert, seal all bulkheads to section T. We will begin our search." As his flipped it off, the corridor lights turned blood red, an alarm starting to wail somewhere.
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Sgt. Zim made a submissive gesture to the two guards. "I understand. But, I have my permission to do so right here." His hand went to his waist, but instead of producing papers he produced a pistol. Two soft "pops" sounded, followed by the thump as the guards collapsed on the floor, blood blossoming from their chests. The squad fanned out through the resturant, ordering identification from diners and questioning those who didn't produce them fast enough.
Ten seconds later, still covering his ears, the Corporal looked up at the door. "Sonofabitch engineers. Johnson!" Private Johnson, an indentured trooper on load from the Ministry of Justice, poked his head up. "Check those satchels! On the double, soldier!"
Scrambling towards the mansion, Johnson knelt infront of the first satchel. "Corporal, heres yer problem! Dem enginees fergot ta cross these here wires-" The charge detonated as Johnson crossed the wires, demonstrating it to the Engineers. While most of the blast was directed inward, enough shot out to vaporize Johnson's head.
Corporal Bobaganush ducked as an empty helmet whizzed by his head. "Squad! Advance!" His troops clambered out of the street, moving cautiously into the entry. "Serrick, take 5 men down that left passage. Petyr, you do the same with the right. I'll take the rest and search upstairs. Janacek, you stay here and guard the entrance. Move out!" Now in three groups, the Skeelzanians went their seperate ways, jittery privates snapping their weapons up at house pets.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
The soaking gnome flashed between the orderly's legs, taking him by surprise. "Get him!" barked the Admiral, just as the autodoor swung open, allowing Fent to dash down one of the corridors. No one had thought to lock it.
Two marine guards had been assigned to the doorway, but both had been dozing when it open. Expecting the Admiral to step out, they didn't notice the half-naked man running past their knees. By the time Van Cleef DID enter the corridor, Master Fent was no where in sight. Bringing out the communit, he began barking orders at Ship Security. "Intruder on board, escaped from section T. Sound intruder alert, seal all bulkheads to section T. We will begin our search." As his flipped it off, the corridor lights turned blood red, an alarm starting to wail somewhere.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Sgt. Zim made a submissive gesture to the two guards. "I understand. But, I have my permission to do so right here." His hand went to his waist, but instead of producing papers he produced a pistol. Two soft "pops" sounded, followed by the thump as the guards collapsed on the floor, blood blossoming from their chests. The squad fanned out through the resturant, ordering identification from diners and questioning those who didn't produce them fast enough.
"Emperor of Skeelzania, Grand Prince of Solomon, Champion of the Guards, Defender of the Race, Lord of Hosts, and Heir to the Great Bad Skeelz."
Official title of the ruler of Skeelzania
Official title of the ruler of Skeelzania
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Bandalok
- The Mindset's Bitch
- Posts: 83
- Joined: Tue Jul 06, 2004 6:55 pm
- Prefix: The United States Of
- Name: Allanea
In the clear air, high above the forest treetops, a winged scavenger glides gracefully over the last of the day’s rising thermals. Searching intently for any sort of edible garbage or carrion, it comes to perch gently on the shoulder of a statuesque Elyog. The scavenger spots a slab of dried meat hanging from a still open food stall and releases its grip, pushing off to gain flight once more. As the winged creature leaps out, a fanged maw reacts with blinding speed and swallows the unlucky bird entire; leaving nothing but a puff of feathers and a resounding squawk to ever prove its existence. A small group of pebbles is disturbed by the movement and decide, unanimously, to roll down the slanted roof in single file until dropping off the end of an overhang; right in front of the entrance to Waff’s Estate.
Inside the Estate, a few of the more aurally gifted maze pets let out high squeals as four Fex attack squads shift hungrily in their cramped hiding places. At the end of a stretch of hallway marked by an odorous, light-absorbing substance that covers the entire surface area, is a red-and-orange circular patch of thick membrane no more than four feet high. If touched exactly in the center, the membrane would pull back into a hoop shape – revealing Master Waff’s personal chambers.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Somehow, despite his breathless, dazed stupor, a stark naked, three and a half foot-tall gnome had escaped a room-full of armed Skeelzanians that surely had nothing less than blood on their minds.
Using the dampness of a bucket of water and the inherent frictionless texture of gnomish skin to his advantage, Fent had managed to slip, slide, and flat-out run past every closing blast door of the locked down sector. While the alarms were still sounding, he was at least able to travel about the ship without running into a dead-end.
Currently he lay behind a ventilation grate above some sweltering machinery room, unconscious from exhaustion.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Laughter that had once been sounding throughout the main hall of the Red Palace, began to die out as the various parties were harassed by the armed grunts.
An ambiguously dressed Belcheroid jester - known for their notoriously deadly body gases – notices the unhappy faces of the new visitors and flip-flopped over to face the leader of the armed search team. “Cheer up; you’ll be having fun in a moment!� With that last word, it aimed at the sergeant and released a belch of great magnitude.
The hall’s guards had begun to gather as soon as the disturbance was noticed. The group of thirty-five well muscled Humans, Uliltahrids, and Ilksar wearing only shirtless gladiator costumes are equipped with various acid and projectile org-weapons, a few humans are sporting beam phasers. They spread out to use the large white columns as cover, not yet opening fire.
Inside the Estate, a few of the more aurally gifted maze pets let out high squeals as four Fex attack squads shift hungrily in their cramped hiding places. At the end of a stretch of hallway marked by an odorous, light-absorbing substance that covers the entire surface area, is a red-and-orange circular patch of thick membrane no more than four feet high. If touched exactly in the center, the membrane would pull back into a hoop shape – revealing Master Waff’s personal chambers.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Somehow, despite his breathless, dazed stupor, a stark naked, three and a half foot-tall gnome had escaped a room-full of armed Skeelzanians that surely had nothing less than blood on their minds.
Using the dampness of a bucket of water and the inherent frictionless texture of gnomish skin to his advantage, Fent had managed to slip, slide, and flat-out run past every closing blast door of the locked down sector. While the alarms were still sounding, he was at least able to travel about the ship without running into a dead-end.
Currently he lay behind a ventilation grate above some sweltering machinery room, unconscious from exhaustion.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Laughter that had once been sounding throughout the main hall of the Red Palace, began to die out as the various parties were harassed by the armed grunts.
An ambiguously dressed Belcheroid jester - known for their notoriously deadly body gases – notices the unhappy faces of the new visitors and flip-flopped over to face the leader of the armed search team. “Cheer up; you’ll be having fun in a moment!� With that last word, it aimed at the sergeant and released a belch of great magnitude.
The hall’s guards had begun to gather as soon as the disturbance was noticed. The group of thirty-five well muscled Humans, Uliltahrids, and Ilksar wearing only shirtless gladiator costumes are equipped with various acid and projectile org-weapons, a few humans are sporting beam phasers. They spread out to use the large white columns as cover, not yet opening fire.
-
Skeelzania
- ESUS Nipple-o-rama
- Posts: 642
- Joined: Tue Jun 15, 2004 9:29 pm
Janacek, Private First Class of the 43rd Infantry Division, 4th Battalion, swirled around at the noise behind him, his SAR raised. The doorway, aside from a pile of pebbles -had those been there earlier?- was empty. Slowly, he backed away from the door, eyes darting down the darkened corridors. His eyes had returned to the pile of pebbles when a beast best described as a nightmarish chicken landed on his back, scything claws digging into the armor. The private screamed as he went down, letting off the entire 30 round magazine as he did so.
Bobaganush paused as rifle fire echoed down the hallway. "Janacek, do you copy? Teams Bravo Delta, do you copy?" The two teams clicked in, but Janacek did not. Strange. "GroOps, this is Corporal Bobaganush. We are currently searching Master Waff's estate and have lost contact with one of our men, requesting backup. Over."
Down the twisting corridor, another trooper gave a shout. He had bumped into a strange, fleshy wall that had absorbed the light from his gunlite. The Corporal approached the wall apprehensively, wondering if this was some sort of trap. Tentatively, he reached out to touch it...and jumped back as the door-membrane retracted, revealing some sort of room. Ordering two men to guard the hallway, Bobaganush and two others advanced into it.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
"Section T reporting clear, sir. Looks like he made it out."
It was improbable. The Skeelzanian Navy had been outwitted by a diminutive streaker. Admiral Van Cleef was seriously considering throwing the bugger into the nearest chute when he caught him, information or no information. "Section T reporting clear, sir. Looks like he made it out. "Very well. Initiate section-by-section searches for upper decks. Release the mongooses into the lower ones, after the crew had taken proper precautions."
"Very good, sir." Several decks down, the young lieutenant nodded to the men behind him. They had anticipated the Admiral's orders, already moving to clear the engine room. Now the two ratings set down the heavy leaded cage they held, its door flush with an exposed ventilation shaft. A flash of neon-green light and chorus of snarls signaled them that the Mongooses were in the system.
These were not your ordinary Terran mongooses however. In fact, they weren't even related. The Skeelzanian Mongoose is native to the planet Solomon; experts believe that it was left over from the Gnome civilization that lived there before the arrival of Baad Skeelzot. Where ever it came from, one thing was certain: The Skeelzanian Mongoose was not something you wanted to run into inside of a ventilation shaft. They are fifty pounds of hunger, rage, and radiation, in roughly equal porportions. Attacking in a storm of claws and teeth, they were capable of killing a full-grown man, if they could take him by surprise.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Zim watched the Belcheroid tumbled away, wishing he had gone to work in the factories like his father: at least he would of lost his sense of smell after a few years. Scanning the hall, he noticed bouncers moving into position. "Heads up men. Make sure those bayonets are fixed, looks like we'll be having a tumble." With that he spun around and unloaded 6 shots into one of the guards, attacking them before they could get into optimal positon. The rest of his squad, taken somewhat unaware by their commander's actions, did their best: several charged the nearest bouncer, bayonet fixed; others simply unloaded their rifles into the nearest gathering of people.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Back at the starport, the Ground Commander was trying to make sense of the messages coming in. "Lost contact...one man...estate......fire in club...Squad Zim engaging...requesting fire support" "The hell? Who gave that man to engage anything? Zim, I demand clarification of your status!" His gaze darted ground-ward, noticing a growing hole in the Gregor's treads. "And what the hell caused that? Engineers! Battefield repairs, pronto!"
Bobaganush paused as rifle fire echoed down the hallway. "Janacek, do you copy? Teams Bravo Delta, do you copy?" The two teams clicked in, but Janacek did not. Strange. "GroOps, this is Corporal Bobaganush. We are currently searching Master Waff's estate and have lost contact with one of our men, requesting backup. Over."
Down the twisting corridor, another trooper gave a shout. He had bumped into a strange, fleshy wall that had absorbed the light from his gunlite. The Corporal approached the wall apprehensively, wondering if this was some sort of trap. Tentatively, he reached out to touch it...and jumped back as the door-membrane retracted, revealing some sort of room. Ordering two men to guard the hallway, Bobaganush and two others advanced into it.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
"Section T reporting clear, sir. Looks like he made it out."
It was improbable. The Skeelzanian Navy had been outwitted by a diminutive streaker. Admiral Van Cleef was seriously considering throwing the bugger into the nearest chute when he caught him, information or no information. "Section T reporting clear, sir. Looks like he made it out. "Very well. Initiate section-by-section searches for upper decks. Release the mongooses into the lower ones, after the crew had taken proper precautions."
"Very good, sir." Several decks down, the young lieutenant nodded to the men behind him. They had anticipated the Admiral's orders, already moving to clear the engine room. Now the two ratings set down the heavy leaded cage they held, its door flush with an exposed ventilation shaft. A flash of neon-green light and chorus of snarls signaled them that the Mongooses were in the system.
These were not your ordinary Terran mongooses however. In fact, they weren't even related. The Skeelzanian Mongoose is native to the planet Solomon; experts believe that it was left over from the Gnome civilization that lived there before the arrival of Baad Skeelzot. Where ever it came from, one thing was certain: The Skeelzanian Mongoose was not something you wanted to run into inside of a ventilation shaft. They are fifty pounds of hunger, rage, and radiation, in roughly equal porportions. Attacking in a storm of claws and teeth, they were capable of killing a full-grown man, if they could take him by surprise.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Zim watched the Belcheroid tumbled away, wishing he had gone to work in the factories like his father: at least he would of lost his sense of smell after a few years. Scanning the hall, he noticed bouncers moving into position. "Heads up men. Make sure those bayonets are fixed, looks like we'll be having a tumble." With that he spun around and unloaded 6 shots into one of the guards, attacking them before they could get into optimal positon. The rest of his squad, taken somewhat unaware by their commander's actions, did their best: several charged the nearest bouncer, bayonet fixed; others simply unloaded their rifles into the nearest gathering of people.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Back at the starport, the Ground Commander was trying to make sense of the messages coming in. "Lost contact...one man...estate......fire in club...Squad Zim engaging...requesting fire support" "The hell? Who gave that man to engage anything? Zim, I demand clarification of your status!" His gaze darted ground-ward, noticing a growing hole in the Gregor's treads. "And what the hell caused that? Engineers! Battefield repairs, pronto!"
"Emperor of Skeelzania, Grand Prince of Solomon, Champion of the Guards, Defender of the Race, Lord of Hosts, and Heir to the Great Bad Skeelz."
Official title of the ruler of Skeelzania
Official title of the ruler of Skeelzania
-
Bandalok
- The Mindset's Bitch
- Posts: 83
- Joined: Tue Jul 06, 2004 6:55 pm
- Prefix: The United States Of
- Name: Allanea
“Op’n the holdin’ rooms, Nilbenfriv! They gonna get to the boss’s room any seconds!�
“Who do you think you are eh? You not master of anything, eh.�
“But -!�
“I’s decide when to press the button, eh!�
The two bickering suboids paused as they heard static and radio chatter through the wall. “See! They’s just through the -�
“Shut your choppies! They be at Master Waff’s room any second, eh!� Holding up his hand in the universal signal of silence, the gnome listened intently for a moment before turning to the left and, with the added weight of his entire body, pulled down on a creaking lever.
All over the mansion, secret rooms and compartments flew open to release a wave of bladed warriors. Moments after Private Janacek hit the floor, two more Fex were already joyously hacking into his body, while the others split into two groups and galloped off to the sides of the staircase – high screeches and clicking noises sounding like battle cries.
The floorboards above rattled like maracas as twenty or so pairs of clawed feet made their way toward Cpl. Bob and his retinue.
Inside Waff’s chambers, the black substance stretches around the floor and wall for a few feet before roughly reverting back to the rocky brown of previous chambers. Squat armoires laden with sparkling jewelry tantalized even the most minimalist with visions of wealth. A domed ceiling maintained the underground illusion despite the presence of a wide balcony – shielded by red curtains that blow inward with the soft dusk breeze. A sweeping four-post bed sits in the center of the chamber, also shielded by blood-red drapery and lace. Mountains of cushions litter the rest of the chamber.
Finally, in a far corner of the chamber, a giant larva is wedged against the wall. Fleshy organic matter reaches out like webbing, and the butt-end drops down to the floor; pulsating with a dark bubbling liquid that shows through the patchy translucent skin. The engorged Landanix Larva has no eyes, but a small pair of mandibles occasionally twitches to pull in more of the food slop that constantly flows toward its tireless maw.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
The Uliltahrid guard flailed wildly as round after round smashed through its body, each one creating a fatally massive gap. Oily blue life-blood and finger sized strips of flesh exploded in all directions, showering people and food laden tables with fresh squid.
At the sound of the first shot, every single occupant of the palace, with the exception of the Skeelzanians and the guards, fell to the ground screaming madly. The guards open fire on an advancing enemy, who currently stand out like a sore thumb.
Mulling about the back kitchen, one of Waff’s messenger suboids hears the gunfire and rushes into the tunnels to spread the word. The ships in space and the forces about the city would begin an all out attack.
“Who do you think you are eh? You not master of anything, eh.�
“But -!�
“I’s decide when to press the button, eh!�
The two bickering suboids paused as they heard static and radio chatter through the wall. “See! They’s just through the -�
“Shut your choppies! They be at Master Waff’s room any second, eh!� Holding up his hand in the universal signal of silence, the gnome listened intently for a moment before turning to the left and, with the added weight of his entire body, pulled down on a creaking lever.
All over the mansion, secret rooms and compartments flew open to release a wave of bladed warriors. Moments after Private Janacek hit the floor, two more Fex were already joyously hacking into his body, while the others split into two groups and galloped off to the sides of the staircase – high screeches and clicking noises sounding like battle cries.
The floorboards above rattled like maracas as twenty or so pairs of clawed feet made their way toward Cpl. Bob and his retinue.
Inside Waff’s chambers, the black substance stretches around the floor and wall for a few feet before roughly reverting back to the rocky brown of previous chambers. Squat armoires laden with sparkling jewelry tantalized even the most minimalist with visions of wealth. A domed ceiling maintained the underground illusion despite the presence of a wide balcony – shielded by red curtains that blow inward with the soft dusk breeze. A sweeping four-post bed sits in the center of the chamber, also shielded by blood-red drapery and lace. Mountains of cushions litter the rest of the chamber.
Finally, in a far corner of the chamber, a giant larva is wedged against the wall. Fleshy organic matter reaches out like webbing, and the butt-end drops down to the floor; pulsating with a dark bubbling liquid that shows through the patchy translucent skin. The engorged Landanix Larva has no eyes, but a small pair of mandibles occasionally twitches to pull in more of the food slop that constantly flows toward its tireless maw.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
The Uliltahrid guard flailed wildly as round after round smashed through its body, each one creating a fatally massive gap. Oily blue life-blood and finger sized strips of flesh exploded in all directions, showering people and food laden tables with fresh squid.
At the sound of the first shot, every single occupant of the palace, with the exception of the Skeelzanians and the guards, fell to the ground screaming madly. The guards open fire on an advancing enemy, who currently stand out like a sore thumb.
Mulling about the back kitchen, one of Waff’s messenger suboids hears the gunfire and rushes into the tunnels to spread the word. The ships in space and the forces about the city would begin an all out attack.
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Skeelzania
- ESUS Nipple-o-rama
- Posts: 642
- Joined: Tue Jun 15, 2004 9:29 pm
Bob was staring at the pulsating maggot in the corner when his two door guards opened up, screaming something about chickens. Fex. Bobaganush rushed from the room just as the first creature went down in a hail of gunfire. Behind it was a wreathing mass of claws and talons, rushing forward like a tidal wave. "Into the room! Now!" Spraying the hallway with bullets, Bobaganush and the two guards backed into the bedroom, where the rest of the squad soon began firing. "Onto the balcony, now!" Men began charging through the red curtains, one of the engineers producing a coil of rope.
As the Corporal and his two guards continued firing, reports began crackling in from other teams. "Under attack...kitchens...fex every- AAH" Unclipping a grenade from his belt, Bobaganush had just tossed it through the door way when the first Fex leaped onto the man next to him, talons scything into the mans face. Then with a muffled whump the grenade went off, sending shrapnel in all directions. A shout from the balcony alerted him that the rope was tied. Emptying the remainder of their magazines, Bob and the remaining grunt rushed back, dropping two more grenades as they did so. Just as they reached the rope, a Fex slammed into the back of the second grunt, sending them both over the balcony. Grabbing the rope in one hand, Bob jumped backwards over the railing, repelling down to the yard where the rest of his men waited. Above him the balcony filled with Fex, drawing the fire of the Skeelzanians on the ground.
Ordering them back to the street where the third squad waited, Bobaganush attempted to hail the other men in the mansion without luck. "Requesting fire support, prepare to receive coordinates of target..." Now the men in the street were firing, as Fex began scrambling out the mansion doors.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
As engineers frantically welded new treads onto the disabled tank -bloody blob-monster- Bob's request crackled into the headphones of the second Gregor's commander. The gunner was given the coordinates, adjusting his aim slightly for they were already trained on the manison. "Fire!" There was a slight hum, followed shortly by a loud crack! and a lance of super-heated plasma streaked towards the mansion.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Within the Red Palace, Sgt. Zim crouched behind a column as he reloaded a second pistol. The rest of his squad had been eliminated in under a minute, acid eating through their armor and melting off limbs. To the armor's credit, the spine-weapons had proven almost singularly ineffective; aside from the head shot scored on one private.
A loud whine filled the air as the gatling-spider on one of the guard's arm resumed firing, bone-like spikes chipping chunks of the pillar off. Zim waited for it to recede, then flipped around the pillar and fired both pistols at whatever target was avaiable. He ducked behind the pillar as a second barrage of fire opened up.
As the Corporal and his two guards continued firing, reports began crackling in from other teams. "Under attack...kitchens...fex every- AAH" Unclipping a grenade from his belt, Bobaganush had just tossed it through the door way when the first Fex leaped onto the man next to him, talons scything into the mans face. Then with a muffled whump the grenade went off, sending shrapnel in all directions. A shout from the balcony alerted him that the rope was tied. Emptying the remainder of their magazines, Bob and the remaining grunt rushed back, dropping two more grenades as they did so. Just as they reached the rope, a Fex slammed into the back of the second grunt, sending them both over the balcony. Grabbing the rope in one hand, Bob jumped backwards over the railing, repelling down to the yard where the rest of his men waited. Above him the balcony filled with Fex, drawing the fire of the Skeelzanians on the ground.
Ordering them back to the street where the third squad waited, Bobaganush attempted to hail the other men in the mansion without luck. "Requesting fire support, prepare to receive coordinates of target..." Now the men in the street were firing, as Fex began scrambling out the mansion doors.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
As engineers frantically welded new treads onto the disabled tank -bloody blob-monster- Bob's request crackled into the headphones of the second Gregor's commander. The gunner was given the coordinates, adjusting his aim slightly for they were already trained on the manison. "Fire!" There was a slight hum, followed shortly by a loud crack! and a lance of super-heated plasma streaked towards the mansion.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Within the Red Palace, Sgt. Zim crouched behind a column as he reloaded a second pistol. The rest of his squad had been eliminated in under a minute, acid eating through their armor and melting off limbs. To the armor's credit, the spine-weapons had proven almost singularly ineffective; aside from the head shot scored on one private.
A loud whine filled the air as the gatling-spider on one of the guard's arm resumed firing, bone-like spikes chipping chunks of the pillar off. Zim waited for it to recede, then flipped around the pillar and fired both pistols at whatever target was avaiable. He ducked behind the pillar as a second barrage of fire opened up.
"Emperor of Skeelzania, Grand Prince of Solomon, Champion of the Guards, Defender of the Race, Lord of Hosts, and Heir to the Great Bad Skeelz."
Official title of the ruler of Skeelzania
Official title of the ruler of Skeelzania
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Skeelzania
- ESUS Nipple-o-rama
- Posts: 642
- Joined: Tue Jun 15, 2004 9:29 pm
Two more squads rushed down the street towards the Red Palace, bayonets fixed and safeties off. Bursting through the front door, four men laid down suppressive fire on both sides of Zim's column, while others tossed grenades into the central area. Civilians screamed and desperately tried to scramble away, but any who got up were cut down by fire from both sides.
"Emperor of Skeelzania, Grand Prince of Solomon, Champion of the Guards, Defender of the Race, Lord of Hosts, and Heir to the Great Bad Skeelz."
Official title of the ruler of Skeelzania
Official title of the ruler of Skeelzania
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Bandalok
- The Mindset's Bitch
- Posts: 83
- Joined: Tue Jul 06, 2004 6:55 pm
- Prefix: The United States Of
- Name: Allanea
Between the three rows of stone pillars closest to the entrance of the Red Palace, an area of no-man’s-land had been created. It was a crimson blood-bath as both gunfire and grenade shrapnel tore into the screaming innocents who had just minutes earlier, been enjoying a quiet supper.
A scantily clad human guard, rolling away from an overturned table in search of better cover, slipped on a growing pool of blood and fell flat on her back – the bulbous plasma-chucker in turn leaped from her hands and went skittering under the feet of a reptilian Ilksar. The Ilksar, simply stepping over the weapon, continued a steady pace toward the entrance of the building. Stopping only to reload a wrist-mounted gatling-spider, he was hardly surprised to get a chest full of bullets from the Skeelzanian reinforcements. Stubbornly, and looking quite like a slice of Swiss cheese, the reptile stuck out his arm and began again to march forward – spraying the area in front of him with needles.
The others continued to fight defensively, randomly peeking out from cover and taking potshots at any moving target.
OOC: So yeah, thought we might try to revive/finish this one. More in a little bit.
A scantily clad human guard, rolling away from an overturned table in search of better cover, slipped on a growing pool of blood and fell flat on her back – the bulbous plasma-chucker in turn leaped from her hands and went skittering under the feet of a reptilian Ilksar. The Ilksar, simply stepping over the weapon, continued a steady pace toward the entrance of the building. Stopping only to reload a wrist-mounted gatling-spider, he was hardly surprised to get a chest full of bullets from the Skeelzanian reinforcements. Stubbornly, and looking quite like a slice of Swiss cheese, the reptile stuck out his arm and began again to march forward – spraying the area in front of him with needles.
The others continued to fight defensively, randomly peeking out from cover and taking potshots at any moving target.
OOC: So yeah, thought we might try to revive/finish this one. More in a little bit.