Turn 1 - Where It All Started

[Corporal Hicks]

The USS Heimlich coasted gently through the blackness of space. The top of the line stealth ship was already slowing down from its interstellar speed to a more reasonable approach speed. The flight crew was all in position, and all flight controls were returned to manual for the safest and stealthiest approach. None of this was necessary, however, as they were not expecting any trouble.

The Zenus Cluster was discovered in 2065 by explorers for the Winn Crest Agricultural Corporation in their quest for new planets to help provide food and medicinal sources for the Sol system. The early settlers had primarily been members of the German branch of the corporation, and even now German was still spoken by roughly 70% of the planet. It had proven to have an excellent atmosphere and crust composition to support intense crop agriculture and livestock growth. Some livestock had been transported from earth, but a massive local animal called a “grow” was still the largest source of meat production on Zenus Vier.

The Heimlich was so fast that it did not require cryosleep, but still had enough cryosleep chambers for those crew that didn’t want to burn five days of their lives on interstellar travel. They were all awake now, and the Devil Dawgs were ready to rock and roll. The platoon strapped themselves in for planetary entry. Officially, nobody knew why they had been called to Zenus Vier at emergency level protocol. A few of the old timers had their guesses, and now all the Marines knew the probable reason for the urgency of their orders, except for the Lieutenant.

Some of the Devil Dawgs had come from another platoon, over a decade ago, called the Easy Eights. None of them had been present at the Draconis Major Campaign, but they knew guys who had been there, and they knew the secret behind the nuclear blast all those years ago. It had not been a mistake as the official story said, it was in response to a terrible infestation that had gripped a region of Zenus Vier and threatened to dominate the entire planet.

An infestation of Xenomorphs.

The Devil Dawgs were a special unit that had been formed to combat these specific organisms. The nucleus of the platoon had come from the Easy Eights, who had been informally tasked with fighting these xenomorphs for years before the Devil Dawgs had been formed. Now they were returning to the planet where some of their predecessors had first met the terrible enemy that would come to haunt all of their nightmares.

“USS Heimlich, requesting planetary entry, official access permit seven alpha zero niner dash sierra sierra one seven, over.”

“Permission granted by military override, proceed with drop, over.”

The ship fell into the atmosphere and flames licked the armor plating as it descended. The crew inside felt only a mild shaking feeling, and a certain weightlessness. They were more than secure in their seats. As the ship reached the lower atmosphere, the flight crew kicked in the forward jets, and the descent rapidly slowed and then stopped. With full control again, they flew the vessel to its destination, the small farming settlement of Gnissau. The Heimlich was brought down in an open field that doubled as a landing zone for ships.

The ramp opened and the platoon walked out into a wide field of mowed grass. To the west was a handful of buildings that looked like houses. Some were the pre-fabricated steel structures that were often carried by colony ships. Others appeared to be newer and built from local wood. To the north of the landing pad were a series of large white buildings that looked like warehouses, all lined up in a row and evenly spaced. There was no welcome party to meet them, but that was to be expected since they moved fast and off the grid. The new Lieutenant, Lucas Fletcher, was standing there blinking in the sunlight and didn’t appear to have a plan.

[Pale Rider]

MSg. Gaston Soles, looked around at the environment. He was a new comer to the group, but he was a veteran of some time. He also knew quite abit about the Easy Eights and the Devil Dawgs, having served under James Screaming Eagle as a member of another special forces group.

Seeing that the Lieutenant was not exactly firing on all cylinders, Gaston, stepped forward and issued orders to the Devil Dawgs.

"Alright, you bunch of misfits, grab your rifles and I do mean the ones that the marines issued you not, the ones that your mom and dad or a test tube gave you and fall in. I will do a quick inspection will the LT and Pope coordinate with the locals."

He reached down and slung his seabag over his shoulder and stepped off the ship to the field below.

<Tag Devil Dawgs>

[Quinn]

On the trip over, Sixtus was one of the few that wasn't allowed to use the cryo tubes, as SOP dictated that a member of medical staff be awake to handle anything that would come up with the effects of such a short term in cryosleep. He spent the time cataloguing the limited medical bay (more like a closet crammed in and stuffed with supplies) that managed to be packed into a ship this small, when he wasn't monitoring the cryo systems. Upon reaching the system in question, he strapped into his crash couch with the rest of the platoon and waited out the ride through reentry.

Sixtus wasn't one of those Marines who could sleep their way into a combat drop, instead he relaxed into his restraints and closed his eyes. He concentrated on his breathing, making it slow and deep. This wasn't his first deployment, far from it. He had faced the chitinous horrors of the Xenomorphs before, as well as the combat drops against insurgents that almost every Colonial Marine had undergone. And as a result, like most Marines, he had a particular loathing for corporates sticking their hands where they didn't belong.

Upon landing, he undid his restraints and got to work. Likely, only the squad leaders and leadership would be speaking with colony admin, so that meant he and the other Marines had "shit to do". So as the Lieutenant and Master Sergeant were walking down the ramp, Quinn busied himself by pulling on the last bits of his armor, tightening straps and securing equipment. It was short lived when he heard Soles bellowing up into the ship.

Sixtus beat feet with everyone else, rifle slung across his chest aimed down and to his left, leaving the stock ready to be pushed into his right shoulder if needed. Upon falling in, he had a moment of disbelief. This place was, hands down, the nicest place he had EVER deployed to. Bright sunlight, deep green grass that was freshly mowed, judging by the scent everywhere. He sneezed violently, remembering his allergy to grass pollen. Quinn's face was sullen as he made a mental note to snag some antihistamines from the medical locker later.

[eyeball]

Paulson hopped down onto the surface, the ride insystem had sucked, he had lost hard earned money to a navy pilot, not even a god damn marine and it still stung.
The descent had been as smoth as he had come to expect and they now tried to unload with some order but the LT just kinda stood in the hatchway.
upon hearing the orders to form up he checked his holstered pistol and slung his flamer, squeezed round the oficer and headed outside, lining up in his squad ready for the inspection.

[JuanPerez]

Perez hopped down to the surface and stayed near his squad members. Being a good marine, he just awaited their orders. In the meantime, he checked his smartgun, and everything was operational and online.

[Jpall]

Gideon smiled bittersweetly as the ramp opened and showed him his home world once again. The emotion on the man's face, which was generally impassive, was a rare display and quickly passed. He was hardly excited on the journey, he had no family left here and no ties to the world anymore and so nothing to be excited for, but he could not deny the nostalgia when the sight and smells hit him. For a brief moment he saw himself, younger, playing in the grass with other children as they hid behind the grows and giggled. Yet the feeling was tainted with his new knowledge, a final confirmation that the blast all those years ago was not really what it seemed. For once, he thought, the rumors proved true.

Gideon hefts his smartgun up and carries it outside with the others, lining up to receive more orders.

[Medic Guy]

Private Kal Skirata dreamed of hiking through a dense forest with a scoped rifle slung over his shoulder before the bright lights in the cryobay brought him back to the present. He prepped himself and his gear before planetary entry.

He strapped in and tried to relax. He heard sergeant Soles orders and made sure to follow them.

[LT_Chun]

Henninger filed out of the drop with his squad. He gave simple hand signals to keep visual vigilance in a 180 degree arc opposite the First Squad, but without contact didn't go to a knee or form a tight perimeter.

[Bullet42]

Torres awakens from the cryotube, feeling stiff and stale. He realizes the long journey is finally over. Stretching out, he shakes the stiffness from his arms and legs. Grabbing his equipment, he begins to daydream about his cryo-sleep—a vivid dream of the concrete jungle city he came from, his enlistment in the USCM, and his days in boot camp. However, he quickly snaps out of the flashback.

It had been a long journey filled with anxiousness and nervous energy to arrive at this point of deployment. Stumbling slightly, he steadies himself, gathering the rest of his gear. With his pulse rifle slung over his shoulder, he falls in line with the rest of the platoon near the exit ramp. Catching his first glimpse of the planet's landscape, he is struck by its beauty—far more serene and breathtaking than the chaos back home. The sergeant's orders cut through his thoughts, and Torres remains on standby, bracing himself for what lies ahead. The tranquil scenery belies the potential for chaos, and he feels a surge of nervous anticipation.

[Corporal Hicks]

Master Sergeant Soles inspected the Marines rather loudly while Lieutenant Fletcher glanced around the area, hands held behind his back. After a minute, the USS Heimlich took to the air, its high-tech thrusters almost silent. The Marines saw a group of people coming toward them from the settlement. A man in a suit waved and began jogging out to them. Behind him was a middle-aged woman and a couple of armed security guards with weapons at rest.

“Hello!” called the man in the suit, in a mild but noticeable German accent, “Thank God you’re here! You’re a sight for sore eyes!” He finished jogging up and then stood still, panting slightly. “Seriously, we are all grateful to you. The situation here has become very concerning. I am Conrad Maier. I am the mayor and the colony administrator. May I ask who is in charge?”

A few Marines glanced at each other. In the awkward silence, the other three people arrived to stand beside the mayor. “Oh, um, I, uh, hi there, I’m Lieutenant Fletcher. I am in command here.” The Lieutenant spoke softly and nervously. He took a few steps forward, still a few paces in front of the line of Marines. “At ease, guys, at ease,” he said offhandedly. “Yes, mayor, I’m sorry what was it again?”

“Mayor Maier, Lieutenant.” He stood there for a few seconds, but when the Lieutenant clearly wasn’t going to say anything more, he motioned to the woman beside him. “This is Wilda Baumann. She owns the local bar and restaurant.”

“We are very grateful to see you all,” Wilda said with a hint of a German accent, “Please, as long as you stay here, you may eat and drink for free at the Beerwolf. The mayor has assured me that everyone will chip in to cover your costs, even if the company will not.”

Lieutenant Fletcher waved his hand dismissively, “Thank you, but the Corps will reimburse you, probably. Um, tell me about the buildings around here. What are those buildings?” He pointed to the white rows of buildings that looked like warehouses.

“Those are where most of the grows are kept. It is the local livestock here. Think of a much larger and uglier cow. Some of them are still free grazing, but these days most of the farming is industrial. You won’t want to visit those buildings, they aren’t safe to enter without a gas mask because of the gasses and smell from so many animals.” The Lieutenant followed the mayor and his entourage back toward the settlement, leaving the Marines behind. One of the security guards glanced over his shoulder at them, a slightly amused look on his face as the Lieutenant seemed to have forgotten them for the moment.
<Tag players>

[Pale Rider]

Soles, shakes his head, this was not going to be an easy mission as far as command was concerned. The new Lieutenant was either green and wet behind the ears or he was given the assignment to get him out of someone's way. The squad was basically on their own. The Lieutenant had not even requisitioned any form of troop carrier.

"Alright marines, let's fall in and follow the LT and his new friends into the city. I want us to get there before the sun sets."

[eyeball]

" Better not be too far" Paulson muttered to himself. And then set off as evryone else marched away.

[JuanPerez]

"Fuking dumb Brass Pendejo" Perez cursed and strolled away with the others

[Quinn]

Sixtus wasn't paying much attention to what the Lieutenant and the administrators were saying, on account of Soles being loud as fuck. He wasn't new to the Marine Corps dog and pony show being put on to make it look like they were "professional", but that also meant that like most veteran Marines, he could pick certain words out of thin air. Words like 'four day liberty, Officer on Deck, crayons" but especially in this case "free food and drink" at a BAR. And given the german accent these people had, odds were decent that there was decent beer to be had! He kept his mouth shut and eyes "caged" lest he give away what he had just heard. But once he had an opportunity...

When the order was given to march, Quinn much like the others in the platoon grumbled some, but got to moving. Sixtus, as usual, fell in to the middle of the loose "formation" out of habit. It wasn't good for the medic to be at the front or rear of any formation in case of an ambush, but also meant he could get to almost everybody quickly. He leaned over to Soles and whispered in a register low enough that couldn't be heard by the Lieutenant and Administrators.

"Boss, is it just me, or did the kid up there forget about us?" he asked, his tone concerned. Sixtus had seen enough platoon leaders in his time, both good and bad. And this one had the early tells of an absolute FNG.

[Pale Rider]

Soles wasn't to keen on this new Lieutenant. This kid was greener than a baby's diaper full of poop who had eaten green vegetables that day! He noticed one of the veterans, Sixtus, was the marines name if he remembered correctly.

"Boss, is it just me, or did the kid up there forget about us?" he asked, his tone concerned. Sixtus had seen enough platoon leaders in his time, both good and bad. And this one had the early tells of an absolute FNG.

Soles continued following the entourage before him. He leaned his head in towards Sixtus.
"You are absolutely correct, the greenhorn is in over his head. I am willing to bet this is the pricks first leadership roll," Soles voice was dripping with venom and frustration with his newest leader. And now not only did he notice the lack of respect and authority for his troops, but so had others of the squad.