Planet Designation: F2437
Planet Class: Zeta
Environment: Jungle. Sea. Desert.
Atmosphere: Breathable
A massive transport ship circled in orbit over a lush jungle, four engines glowing with a propulsive force of a bright emerald hue. Its obsidian plates gleamed with reflected sunlight, like the scales of an interstellar predator ambling along at a pace that suited it. It swam through the misty violet atmosphere along a predetermined route, casually delivering its cargo. Its black body sported a single insignia painted in stark white on its broad side, a large globe surrounded by stars. Four hands proffered from the cardinal directions of the globe, one holding a shield, another a gun, the third a crystal, and the fourth an open palm stretching outward. Tri-barreled gun emplacements were mounted on the behemoth sporadically, their presence a clear warning against any would-be opponents.
Inside the ship's hold was a large group of humanoids, dressed in blue and green camouflage fatigues. They stood at attention, lining up in military formation along the deck of the massive open hangar. Some carried beautiful-looking black and green rifles, sleek and well-polished, their uniforms crisp and new-looking. Others carried spears of the same color, yet their weapons and uniforms were in consistently inferior condition. These two groups were mostly segregated, with the rifle-bearing warriors populating the front ranks and the spear bearers in the back.
Some of the humanoids were tall, green-scaled lizard folk, red eyes darting around the container while pink tongues flicked nervously. Others were large, grey-skinned fighters with dark black ridges running up and down their faces and arms, eyes shining a dangerous vermillion. Some were even large, hairy, dome-headed creatures with brown fur, beady black eyes, ivory claws, and, strangely enough, no mouth. But most of the figures in the crowd were just plain human. Some kept their gaze resolutely forward, while others glanced nervously at the others out of the corner of their eyes.
Daniel Hardgrave was one of those human souls. Standing amongst the spear-wielding grunts, the pale-skinned man’s midnight black hair was cut in military fashion. Chocolate brown eyes stared forward as he tried to maintain his sense of discipline in spite of his churning stomach. He was handsome, but not exceptionally so, with muscular facial features, a cleft chin, and a slightly crooked nose thanks to an old break. His most distinct features were a small cross-shaped birthmark on the side of his neck and a long, horizontal scar that ran across the bridge of his nose.
What couldn’t be seen immediately when surveying this group was the mechanical heart that beat beneath their clothes. In the center of each of their chests, right at the sternum, was a small blue triangle outlined in silvery metal. It pulsed gently with sapphire light, transmitting a HUD to their hosts that no one else could see. In front of his face, Daniel was staring at a large blue box that read:
User Name: Daniel Sylvester Hardgrave
Age: 18
Pioneer Class: Zeta
Rank: Private Second Class
Status:
Strength: 20
Dexterity: 24
Constitution: 19
Adaptability: 14
Psyche: 9
Psionic Capacities:
Slot 1: Empty
Personal Attributes:
Slot 1: Empty
Slot 2: Empty
Integrated Technologies:
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Slot 1: Empty
Value of Personal Storage:
0 Credits
Value of Group Storage:
0 Credits
Mission: Hunt and Gather on Planet F2437
You have been tasked with a simple Hunt and Gather mission on a planet suitable for your Class. Bring back as much as you can in terms of valuable flora, fauna, and, if relevant, salvageable tech. Meet your quotas to avoid sanction.
Group Designation: Group 53
Group Size: 20/20
Group Quota: 2,000,000 Credits (NOT MET)
Personal Quota: 100,000 (NOT MET)
Total Time: 100 Imperium Standard Days
Commission on Salvage Value: Under Quota: 60%, over Quota: 90%
Time Until Deployment: 00:00:10:31
He stared at that Time Until Deployment as the seconds ticked down, dismissing the rest of the text as he did. Ahead of him, groups were already peeling off from formation and toward the drop pods lining either side of the hangar. The slight swish of the mechanical doors opening, the steady thump of the pods being jettisoned, and the echoing clomp of marching bootsteps all served to make his nerves worse. With each sound, he grew closer and closer to being on the chopping block. Daniel felt the members of his group shifting restlessly as the timer counted down and chanced a glance leftwards at Jordan.
The blonde-haired, blue-eyed man looked like a depiction of a Nordic god of old, shrunk down to manageable size. Jordan had allowed his golden locks to grow a little longer than regulation permitted, and his body was packed full of bulging muscle. His face was chiseled, features traditionally handsome and entirely without blemish. He had a knack for looking both stern and noble when he was serious. The only thing stopping this guy from calling himself a deity was the fact that he stood more than a head shorter than Daniel’s 185 cm frame, making him noticeably smaller than nearly all the other Pioneers. Well, there was also his attitude. Jordan met Daniel’s side eye glance and gave him a lopsided smile: “Ready for a nice vacation, Danny? Maybe I can finally introduce you to some girls when we get planetside.”
“The only girls you attract are the hairy ones.”, Daniel muttered back, fighting to keep a smirk off his face due to the moment's gravity.
Jordan snickered as he responded: “Well, the hairier they are, the warmer they are to cuddle on a cold Crucian evening.”
Now they were both holding back grins, a moment of mirth interrupted by a hiss from Daniel’s right: “Pipe down, you two. Do you want to get us sanctioned?”
The stick-in-the-mud interrupting them was a bald, thin-faced man with dark brown skin and eyes. He was a little shorter than Daniel and rather skinny, nothing but lean muscle. Omar Ibrahim glared at the duo with narrow eyes, and Daniel stifled the urge to bicker with the man. Jordan, on the other hand, opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, an alert popped up on their HUDs: “Alert! Time Until Deployment: 2:00. Please enter your pods.”
Now Daniel’s nervousness was back in full force, and his insides did a backflip as his group turned and walked toward the pods in military formation. Even Jordan grew noticeably agitated as they neared their destination. The twenty of them broke off into four groups of five as they approached the hangar’s walls. Each of the groups went into a pod, a claustrophobic arrangement even in the best of times, since the pods could only sit three normal-sized humans comfortably. It was just Daniel’s luck that he was sharing a pod with the only non-human member of their larger group of 20.
A massive, bipedal, shaggy brown creature took up almost half of the space within Daniel’s pod. It was almost like a bear had become humanoid and learned to walk, but along the way it had somehow exchanged most of its facial features for a cylindrical body, domelike head, and milky white claws. The Dunid’s coal dark eyes blinked down at Daniel, where he was crushed between it and the guys behind him. Daniel shifted a bit to meet the nonhuman’s eyes, giving it an apologetic look: “Sorry about this, buddy. Try not to scratch me too bad with those paws of yours, eh?”
The creature emanated a deep basso rumble in response, causing Daniel’s whole body to vibrate. He had no idea what that was supposed to mean, or if the Dunid even understood him, but he chose to take it as a positive sign. Impaled by his own teammates or otherwise, the entire pod was swelteringly hot, and Daniel’s proximity to his furry friend meant he was getting the worst of it. The heat only made his nausea worse, and watching the seconds tick by on their timer was agony itself. Eventually, mercifully, he got a final alert: “Time Until Deployment 0:00. Registered as Present in Pod 369. Prepare for Launch.”
There was a quick thump, and Daniel felt his stomach drop as they were launched into free fall. Fortunately, their pod’s thrusters soon roared into action, controlling their descent. The world still shook violently as the craft hurtled through the atmosphere at a stable yet high velocity, and Daniel prayed that both he and his friends could hold onto their stomachs. They had been given a new timer, and he latched onto this latest piece of information like a drowning man thrown a lifeline: “Est Time Until Landing: 20 seconds.”
“Est Time Until Landing: 10 seconds.”
The shaking began to die down in the last 10 seconds, thrusters taking further control to prevent them from dying on impact. Daniel still braced for landing as the final seconds ticked down: “5…4…3…2…”
“1”
They hit the ground with a final boom, their world growing mercifully still. The group waited with bated breath for a few moments more until they heard the final hiss of the doors opening.
Finally, they stumbled out into the planet beyond.
