The Yor....
A race that was once bound by chains, and considered slaves. Is now a very powerful race in the universe. With countless planets under its banner, the Yorians spread through the universe, fighting their enemy's in the name of the great Stavern, god of war and conquest.

Through the billions of battles, there lie even more stories left untold. Stories of heroism and bravery, of victory and hardship. Stories that create legends.


This story fallows the stray dogs, a squad of yorian soldiers hailing from the planet Macedon III.

Bio
------
Don't know how else you can introduce your character.

Name:
Age:
advantages: eye sight, strength, etc
disadvantages:
Faith: How much to you worship great stavern?


Mine
------------
Name: Scar (real name unknown)
age: 78
Advantages: Battle hardened, eye sight, steady aim
disadvantages: temper, left ear is bio amped
Faith: Like most Yorians, Scar believes that when he dies, or is killed in battle, he will join Staverns steel legions, and await his return into the mortal world, conquering with his immortal brothers and sisters.



All players will be equiped with the standard issue assault rifle unless you PM me asking for a different role, (sniper, heavy, etc)

Name: Ghost
Age: 52
advantages: Excellent eye sight, Steady Aim, Qucik Reflexes.
disadvantages: Poor Stamina
Faith: Ghost has alway been a willing follower of Stavern, but he always wonders (and worries) if he will be accepted into the ranks of Legion of Steel when he passed from this world.
Role: Sniper

Name: Lunchbox, or just Box.
Age: 65
advantages: Great eye sight, better-than-average speed, strength, quick reflexes, and one of the best medical minds.
disadvantages: Will do almost anything to save a soldier, blocks out most things while working.
Faith: Believes in the faith of the Yor, but also believes that saving lives will allow him passage into the Legion of Steel's ranks, by allowing others to continue to fight.
role: Medic (STA-58K, PPK side-arm, medical kit, bandages, and adrenaline injections.)

Name: Ambrosious Casper Umbra
Age: 29
advantages: Stealth, agility much better then a normal humans, nimble fingers, balance, and a good eye sight
disadvantages: Has little emotion, years of killing has left him paranoid and twitchy, as well as a little crazy.
Faith: He believes the lord has given him his power to kill, and his purpose, but doesn't believe blindly in him.
Role: Scout

((people are still aloud to join, etc))

384 A.E.
Age of power
30,000,000 light years from Macedon III
Corea cluster.
205th Battle fleet on route to planet Banshee.

The inside of the fleets flagship "The Kaisers fist" was completely silent of any kind of chatter. All that could be heard was the sounds of battle brothers, equipping their uniforms. Their suit resembled a shorter trench coat, dark gray all around, on both arm ends where gloves that where attached to the suit, The pants where thick and also dark gray, each battle brother was also wearing a helmet, with a Gas mask hanging off to the side of the helmet, it covered the back of the head and neck also, to protect Yorians from sniper ambushes.

This ship alone consisted of exactly 2000 soldiers, with hundreds of thousands more in the ships surrounding the massive flag ship. in the very back of the armory, was another soldier in a room alone, the room was decorated with medals and trophy's of past conquests, and pictures of some of his more great achievements. His armor differentiated from the others, it was a grayish red, and both shoulders where marked with a large eagle. Instead of a Helmet, his head wear was a hat, that was also marked with the giant eagle, but the gas mask was now resting on the top.
The Commanding officer took in a deep breath, and left his room to meet his soldiers.

Box re-checked his medical box, one more time, as his battle brothers finished gearing up around him. Hopefully, I won't need this... he thinks to himself, closing the metal box, and securing it on his back. Box picked up his helmet, and put it on, hooking everything up, and slid his PPK into it's holster, locking it down, and picked up his rifle, checking the magazine, before slapping it in, and double-checks his safety. "But I know I'll need this..." he mumbles to himself, turning towards his armory locker, and closing it, and strapping in his extra clips to his uniform. He turns around to his brothers, and looks at them. My brothers... he says inside his head, before speaking to them. "Glory in Battle, Honor in Death!" he says, just loud enough for the brothers around him to hear.

Ambrosious had finished gearing up a while ago, he liked to be early in case of emergencies, which tended to happen a lot more then the instruction Manuel during training had first said. Maybe the ship would get attacked, maybe someone would revolt and happen to shoot at Ambrosious, it didn't necessarily matter what his crazy mind had concocted, he just knew it was important to be prepared. It had happened once, in his mind, which was enough for Ambrosious to start to be paranoid about it.

Ambrosious took a look around the room, noting everyone in it. "Lets see," He thought, "There are about 20 in this room, from what I can see. There could be multiple being hidden by the others, or stealthed, going to kill me. With all those factors included, there is a 13% chance one of them could be a spy sent to kill us all. Noted." Ambrosious got up, stretching, he might need to be using his legs after all, before they hit the ground that was.

Ghost slapped the clip home into his rifle, checking and double-checking the bolt-action loader to make sure it was working properly. His helmet and gas-mask were set on the bench next to him. The gas-mask had a skull painted on the face, the red goggles in place of the eyes. He shouldered his rifle before unholstering his pistol, checking it, and replacing it.

"Glory in Battle, Honor in Death!"

Several Battle Brothers yelled approvingly as Ghost looked up to see who shouted. He spotted Lunchbox, and smirked. Always looking out for the others...

His ear picked up the sound of a door opening, and his head snapped over just in time to see the Chief Battle Brother step out of his office. He immediately leapt to his feet and shouted "Chief on deck!" before snapping to attention.

Name: Capitalism (He got the nickname because of how he always 'capitalizes' on any situation)
Age:37

Advantages: Capitalism is scheming, and an amazing liar. His prowess with any mid to close range weapon is undeniable, as long as he doesn't have to work to hard to get the job done. Cappi has been lying so long he's gotten adequately skilled at almost everything you can think of.

Disadvantages: Capitalism is lazy, and does things only when ordered, forced, or when convenient. He is a little fatter than most, so slightly slower and weaker, and his a weakness for whatever drugs are found on the Yorian surface, though keeps it a secret well enough. Also, he's craven (A coward). He's not really that reliable, and most jobs he only gets half-way done.

Faith: The great Stavern is only an icon- Capitalism believes in only himself.

Role: (Half) Jack-of-All Trades

The door slid open as the masked commander walked out. the soldier beside the door stood to attention and called out "Chief on deck!" before the sentence even finished, the men in the room stood to attention.

Scar looked upon his men, he knew that a lot of them would not raise their weapons in victory when this battle is done. "Brothers...You've all been briefed, but protocol says I have to go over some things just in case your new."

Scar began to slouch a bit as he continued to speak. "My name is Chief battle brother, Scar, My real name is not important. I will be commanding a large majority of you when we hit the ground." Scar pressed a few buttons on the wall, when the indicator turned green, two large holsters fell from the ceiling and faced both rows of soldiers. "Only the new ones have to do this, since my Vets already have them, I want you to grab the handle and pull out the blade." The Chief pulled one out to demonstrate. "This here, Is the Yorian Haklar combat sword. This is not just a weapon, but a trophy....Every kill with this weapon, insures a greater place in the ranks of the steel legion, every kill...A trophy.."

Scar holstered the weapon back into its wall sheath. "as you all know, we are going to the Jungle planet, Banshee, this place is infested with the alien race, The Gorgons"

A projector appeared in the middle of the room displaying a man sized creature, its skin was red and yellow, blood shot eyes. Its skin was crimson and it had large, knife like claws on each finger and toe. Its back was hunched over and it did not appear to have a mouth.

"This, Is a gorgon. For those who aren't aware of this race, the Gorgan race is split off into three tribes. What you see here is the Nat'nevel, the most primitive and will make the bulk of the enemy's on Banshee, they work by hive mind so don't expect these things to run away, recon reports that exactly four overlord's landed on Banshee, so intel reports that their numbers range around.....uncountable."

"the next tribe are the Hok'hako, A much larger, stronger, vicious tribe. They are currently allied with the Nat'nevel and they seem to like each other like family, we currently have no image on us, but they are roughly 1.5 times our size, so you'll know them when you see them."

The third and final tribe are only known as outlanders. they seem to be a lot smarter then the other tribes, they spoke to us in perfect basic and are armed with very primitive bolt action rifle, REMEMBER these are our allies, you will be able to tell them apart via uniforms and helmets. "

The Chief paused for a moment. "Oh and before I forget, The Nat's may seem like they don't have mouths, but get too close and they'll tear right through your battle armor....We move out in thirty....Glory in battle, honor in death, brothers."

The chief turned around and entered his room once again.

Lunchbox listened to the Chief Battle Brother as he spoke, remembering his first time, and pulling his blade out. He snapped out of it, as the hologram started up, and made sure to memorize what the outlanders looked like. "Glory in battle, honor in death!" he called back, along with his other battle brothers, checking his weapons one last time, checking his sheath on his combat sword, making sure it was secure, before looking at the rows, to see if anyone new would retrieve a blade.

Ambrosious did as he was told.

He stood when his commander stepped in to the room, noticing the slight posture change as he continued to move on with his speech. Ambrosious could tell he wasn't so sure if they would all make it through, of course they wouldn't all make it, though it was to say that not a lot of them would make it. Amrbosious kept his composure, though his mind started to twirl down as his confidence in this mission had started to dwindle down. The mere fact that even his commander had slouched, indicated that either he wasn't sure about the battle, or not the best commander if he could not stand proudly and valiantly in front of his men. Even though, yes, Ambrosious did have respect for the man, he was unsure of his ability to lead, which might be the reason they might not all live.

War was an art, the more you practice, the better masterpieces you could paint.

Ambrosious looked onto his other brothers as they did so grasp their swords with much honor. He was not as sure if he was so honorable, as he was having doubts of his commanding officer, a man who could kill him with a sweep of his hand if he wanted to, figuratively and literally. Ambrosious grabbed hold of his weapon, he was glad to hold his blade in his hands, a grasp on happyness came over him. He pulled his weapon out, holding it with the ammount of pride that his brothers had before him. Apparently, it was more about holding your weapon in your hands, that it finally became a part of your body.

He grinned, let the beasts fly, let their bodies lie.

Ghost stood at attention as Chief Scar informed them of their mission, and the face of their enemies...and allies. He took mental notes on the Chief's descriptions of their allies. Bolt-action, huh? I like these guys already...

As the Chief said his final words, Ghost gripped the sword on his hip, remembering his first battle...and how little he used the special blade. He had taken up a sniping position while his brothers fought below, baptizing their swords in the blood of their enemy. Ghost merely pulled the trigger of his rifle.

Ghost shook the thoughts away, hardening his posture as the others milled about.

Capitalism put on a good enough show for the Captain intelligently and standing at attention while the details were laid out before them.

"Glory in battle, honor in death!" He shouted with the others, though he knew the words were nothing to him. Stavern was a name, and Cappi didn't think to care for him. Death was scary, and he wanted no part of it, honor or not. But Capitalism knew not to tell anyone of his beliefs- he'd get killed. Most Yorians were religious to the extreme, and the few who weren't died with their secret disbelief- or that's what he planned on doing.

Capitalism walked to the projector, examining the three tribes closely. He'd have to fight these, and really didn't want to. He sighed and turned away, cursing his parents and their damned Yorian heritage. He reached in his pocket and felt his loaded pair of dice. If only war worked like a rigged game of Yahtzee . . .

The intercom went on and a rough voice was speaking through it.

"ETA 3 minutes."

when the intercom finished, the alarm lights began to blink red and Scar emerged from his room once more.
"ALRIGHT YORIANS, lets move it!" Scar led the way with troopers following behind him.

The docking bay was huge, with 300 to 400 landing crafts. running in orderly fashion to enter the craft they where designated to.

While the other soldiers in the crafts sat down and strapped themselves in, Scar simply stood in the middle and issued orders. "We are landing in a hotzone! I want everyone to watch everyones back, stay in loose formation, IF you are caught abandoning your position I will shoot you, DO YOU GET ME." The Yorians simply responded. "WE GET YOU CHIEF!"

Scar nodded with approval, his posture seemed a lot more straight then when he was giving out the protocol. His blade was sheathed on his waist. and he was carrying the standard issued rifle. "If you have noticed, your ammo supply only has one Incendiary drum, The rest are shredder rounds, a lot easier to kill Gorgon scum.

The landing crafts proceeded to disembark from the large flag ship, to join thousands of more crafts already on route to the planet, with small fighters and bombers escorting them.

As the other soldiers where bumping around in their seats, Scar continued to stand in the middle of the craft, facing the door without moving an inch.

Checking his clip again, and his blade, as well as his medical box, strapped to his back, Box sat up straight. Another rough landing... in a rough area. he thought to himself. He would stay back for a few seconds, let the others run out, clear the area, while he stays at the door, and moves out to the wounded when the area is secure, hoping he wouldn't have to leave the wounded behind. He grunts as a large bump slams his head against the back of his seat, his helmet taking the blow, but still sending a small pain into the back of his head. He glances around the ship, watching the others, and focusing on the new battle brothers. Hope I don't have to treat them today.. he thought, knowing he would end up having to work on many of his brothers in the upcoming battle.

Capitalism glanced at the man next to him. Lunchbox, he remembered the name of the medic. He smiled and patted his dice-pocket.

"Lunchbox, right?" Started the plump Yorian, nudging his comrade and giving him a brave smile. Cappi was actually scared shitless, but he'd played dangerous games before, and had the best poker face in all the Galaxy, or so he estimated, "You watch my back and I'll be be watchin' yours, a'right?"

Lunchbox felt a nudge in his side, and looked over, just in time to hear the battle brother by him talk. He smirks, hidden behind his helmet, but could tell by his voice he was scared. "Heh, Alright. Though, with this Box, your job'll be made easier." he joked, pointing at his "lunch box", which had a carving in it, writing out "Lunchbox" under the medical symbol.

Ambrosious was being knocked around in his seat though nothing to that extent mattered to him, he kept his eyes glued on the things before him, his weapon, and his mission. Nothing else was in his mind in the moment. He took out his blade, checking it's sharpness. Putting it back in his sheeth, he rubbed over it, and then he put it to his head, as he closed his eyes and started a prayer. "Great Stavern," he said aloud, "I ask for your strength in our glorious battle. If I am to die, I hope it will serve my fellow brothers well, and filled with valor. In your name we prey, amen." He sighed, looking up, putting his blade back on his uniform where it belonged.

It was a ritual he had, and Ambrosious doubted he was the only one didn't do the same.

"Glad to hear it," Capitalism said, nodding at his comrade. He was put a little at ease, now that he had a medic watching his back, and hoped the feeling was mutual. "I'm called Capitalism, by the way."

Ghost hustled into the dropship just as the door began to close. He slid into his seat and strapped himself in, laying his rifle across his lap. As the dropship launched, Ghost lurched forward by the jerk as they sped off.

Ghost wobbled slightly as the dropship shook in the descent. He observed his fellow Battle Brothers. Some prayed, others checked their equipment one more time, and others just sat, and waited.

His gaze turned to the Chief, who had remained standing, and shook very little, despite the vibrations of the shuttle. He would follow that man into combat. He would fight valiantly and, hopefully, live long enough to fight a second battle.

The landing crafts smashed into the ground below with a loud thump, the doors opened at moderate speed and the latches from each seat dis attached them selfs from the soldiers.

Scar unlatched the safety pin from his rifle and turned back to his brothers.
"GLORY FOR THE FIRST MAN TO DIE! CHAARGE!" he yelled with a tone of rage in his voice.

As Scar ran down the ramps the others where not too far behind. Scars Comm unit began to fuzz. "*KSSHHHT* All units halt!"

The chief raised his arm to notify and halt as so did the other Chiefs in the force.

The landing zone was a giant field of grass, all around the field where nothing but lush jungles, except for the sounds of Yorians changing posture to survey their environments.

Scar turned his comm unit on to speak with the other chiefs. "initiate order, silent killer"

Scars comm fuzzed again and a voice came on. "Yes brother".

Scar signaled with his hand, his free hand was pushing downwards, and the soldiers in his units crouched down into the grass as well as the soldiers in the other units.

It was quiet, too quiet.

Box started to run alongside Capitalism, stopping as soon as he saw the hand signal, and crouched down, his rifle ready to fire, but his finger resting above and away from it, to avoid accidently firing. He surveyed the area, experianced eyes watching for sudden movement. Shifting his shoulders, the weight of his medical box moving to a more comfortable position. I don't like this... he thought to himself, moving forward to get off the dropship, his rifle moving with his head, scanning, and watching for his Chief's orders.

Capitalism charged with the brothers, keeping close to Capitalism as he ran down the ramps stupidly. Capitalism knew there was no immediate fight outside when the ramps first went down, not being cursed with battle lust like his brothers, his wits were still about him. He stopped with his captain, and hid with his captain, and eh would fight with his captain- he just didn't plan on dying with the man. He kept within arm's-length of 'Box and began to watch the opposite way of his brother, hoping he would alert him to any orders from Scar.

Ambrosious had jogged at the same pace everyone else was running at to their destination, well, as far as they had gotten at least. As the commander singled for the crouching, Ambrosious did it with one easy buckling of his legs. He kept one foot propped, the soul of his shoe on the ground, while his knee was on the ground. Ambrosious held onto the handle of his blade, as he scoped out the area, the eyes of a killer overcoming his more paranoid personality. He defiantly grew the mind of a warrior when in the face of battle, the face of an assassin.

He kept his calm composure, even though he could of easily gotten up and taken on whatever beast was in front of him, well, at least he thought he could.

Radio chatter from other Chiefs continued to ring in Scars ear.
"I see movement" One finally said.

The forests in front of them became loud with growling and chittering.
The yorians did not flinch, Did not budge, men and woman born and raised to fight, to kill, to conquer.

Scar observed the moving brushes around him, the Gorgans where staring right back, countless blood thirsty monster waiting to attack and to tear the yorians to shreds. This planet is in Yorian controlled space, it was theirs, not the Gorgons.


"YORIANS! SEND THESE CREATURES BACK INTO THE ABYSS!" Scar ordered with a loud roar.

At once, thousands of Yorians, raised their rifles and fired into the forest, Trees shred to nothing, three seconds after the fire began, thousands apon thousands of Gorgons charged through the fire and leaped through the air like a red tide.

Box crawled back, trying to get slightly higher ground, as he fired upon the charging Gorgons. His foot touched metal, as he slowly walked up the ramp of the dropship, stopping when he is able to see over his brother's heads. He fires a short burst, watching as a Gorgon reels back, rounds slamming into it's chest. He took aim at another, as a few of his Battle Brothers followed him, getting higher ground. Lunchbox glances around quickly, looking for wounded Yor, before re-focusing on his firing, taking down Gorgon after Gorgon, short, precise bursts tearing into center mass, or bursting an unlucky Gorgon's head.

Capitalism fired into the Gorgon's ranks as he walked backwards with Lunchbox, killing a few and keeping the oncoming horde of beasts at bay. He stopped next to the Box and aimed at any Gorgon close enough for Cappi's aim to be worth anything. If a gorgon was too far off, his shots would be useless. Even though he as craven, Cappi still knew how to shoot. He counted the dead and dying Gorgon's that belonged to him in his head.

Gorgon after Gorgon fell to the ground, holes in their heads. Ghost worked efficiently, going through the motions of firing, taking aim, and firing again. He was at the top of the loading ramp, standing over the majority of his Battle Brothers. He had decided that he was most effective at the highest ground, and that thought seemed to prove true: He had an excellent view of the field before him, and an excellent firing range.

He had glanced down for a moment, and spotted the mark of a medic on a Battle Brother's backpack. He kept a mental note to watch after him.

This also proved useful as he saw a Battle Brother off to the side get stabbed in the arm by a Gorgon, before said Gorgon was shredded by two more Brothers. The wounded Brother stepped back as another took his place.

Ghost reached down and tapped Box's shoulder firmly before pointing over his shoulder towards the wounded man so he could know where to go.

He then went back to his bloody business as he slapped another clip home.

Box felt a firm tap on his shoulder, and looked back, and saw a sniper, who pointed to the side, at a wounded brother. Box nodded, and tapped Capp's shoulder, and gave him a hand signal for "Stay here and Cover me." He pointed towards the wounded brother, and fired a few rounds, nailing two more Gorgons in the head, before running to his battle brother. He grabbed him beneath the arm when he got close enough, and knelt over him, looking down at him. Box nodded, and grabbed his shoulders, lifting him onto his feet, and helped him walk towards the ship, where the sniper and capp were. "You'll be alright, Brother..." he said, loud enough for the wounded soldier to hear over the gun fire, screaming, and all other sounds of battle.

You're a damn fool, 'Box. Thought Cappi as the medic ran to save their wounded brethren. Capitalism would have voiced the thought if he hadn't cared more about himself than the 'Box, but there were other medics and other ways to stay alive. He shot a few Gorgons off of 'Box's back, keeping their teeth away from his flesh, but he knew it was a risky business.

Capitalism glanced to the foot of the ramps, then back at Box. He had their comrade in his arms, and was heading back, but the Gorgons were still vast in numbers, and they didn't seem to want to break, either. Capitalism kept firing, and swearing, as his brother made his way back to the ramps.

Scar took down one more Gorgon before they just stopped charging. The chiefs through out the line raised their hand to signal a cease fire.

He examined the woods for awhile. it was quiet once again, Scar turned on his comm to notify the other chiefs. "Time to move up."

he waved his hand to signal a advance, the Yorians began to march forward, with their guns upfront, stepping over the dead and mutilated corpses of the gorgon. Scar examined the woods one last time and turned on his order radio to talk to his soldiers. "we're going in, brothers."

Box carried the wounded brother onto the ramp, and slipped his medical box off his back. He pulled it open, and started working on the wound, doing as best a job as he could to stabalize his wounded brother. "Your gonna be alright..." he said to him, comforting his wounded brother, as he finished by placing a guaze pad, with medical tape, over his wounds, on his arm, and nods slowly, placing his brother's rifle next to him. He stood up, and saw the army moving, and sighed. He scanned the battlefield for more wounded, as he saw a few other medics carrying wounded back to the ships. Lunchbox knelt down beside a body of one of his brothers, and felt for his pulse, and sighed. He lifts his brother up, and carrys him back to the ship, placing him by the first soldier he saved, and checks for wounds. "He's alive... but barely... Brother, do you mind giving me some assistance?" he asks, before quickly glancing around for Capp. "Capp? I could use your help, too."

Ghost arched an eyebrow as the last Gorgon fell, and the flow of monsters stopped. What's going on...

He followed his Brothers toward the forest line, patting Lunchbox's shoulder as he passed him down the ramp. He stumbled over one Gorgon's shredded corpse, giving a disgusted look at how mangled it was, but deep down applauded his Brother's thoroughness.

When they stopped near the treeline, Ghost scanned the higher branches for any perched Gorgons, but didn't see anything...

"We're going in, brothers."

Ghost paused for a moment, thinking over the pro's and con's of continuing with his rifle. He then shouldered his sniper rifle, and drew his sword and pistol. He checked the pistol's safety, and looked over his sword. Its edge was honed to its maximum sharpness. He smiled as he began heading into the tree line.

Cappi looked at the trees, at his fallen brother, at the trees again. HE went to Lunchbox and began to help.

"What do you need me to do? I've delved into medical training, but nothing this serious." He said, examining his dying brother closely with one eye, and keeping the other eye on the forest behind them.

Medics where having troubles keeping the downed soldiers away from the front. "Hands off me, I'm not dead yet!" one remarked as he pushed himself back to his feet with his blade.


Scars comm began to fuzz again. "This is the Kaisers fist, situation report." Scar pressed a few small buttons on the right side of his helmet. "This is chief battle brother Scar, We got thirteen brothers wounded, but thats it, the Xeno scum have fallen back into the forests."

The comm stayed silent for a few moments until the flag ship responded. "Roger that Chief, Battle suits ETA 15 minutes."

Scar simply nodded before turning off his comm. The trees where dense and close together, perfect hiding space for Gorgons.

Scar heard a russle in the woods and raised his weapon.

three gorgons emerged from the woods, in uniforms and helmets, carrying double barreled Bolt-action rifles.
the Gorgon in the middle raised one hand and spoke to Scar in a Latin like voice. "Do not shoot, comrades."
Scar nodded and lowered his weapon, as did all the other brothers.

The middle gorgon approached Scar and saluted in the normal Yorian manner. "Sargent no,vile, 103rd outlander battalion" Scar returned the salute with the Outlander version. "Battle brother Scar, Macedonia III's finest."
The outlander nodded and turned around. "This way comrades."

Scar turned back to face his brothers. "two of you go back and grab the medics and wounded, the rest follow the outlanders.

As the other brothers went forward, Box instructed the Capp and the other brother one what to do, as he worked on two more wounded. "... And put your hand there... put pressure... and you... cut that stitch there... Alright, good job, brothers." He looked down at the wounded soldier, and nodded. "He'll be fine, and fit to fight." Box used his sword to stand up, and stretched, placing it back in it's sheath, and pulled his medical box back onto his back, after closing it. he looked around, and saw wounded walking towards the front lines. Lunchbox heard a yell, and turned around, and saw two soldiers, waving for the medics and wounded. "...Just in time, too.. C'mon, brothers. This fight isn't over yet." With that, he helped the wounded to their feet, and walked with them to the front line, looking back at Capp. "Come, Capp. There are more Gorgons to kill, and more glory to gain."

Battle Brother Ambrosious had gotten a few kills, but nothing he was really proud of. Everything moved quite fast for him, a little to fast for his taste at some points. He always liked knowing everything about a battle and the surroundings, even though that information was not always given, he didn't like to move until he had all the peices of the puzzle figured out. However, it wasn't like he was in charge.

Battle Brother Ambrosious had indeed like the sight the gorgon scum's blood.

Ghost observed the Outlanders as they saluted the Chief, and then spoke briefly. When they were finished, Chief ordered them to follow, which Ghost did. He fell in step behind the Chief, occasionally glancing ahead at the Outlanders and their weapons.

Odd... he thought as he continued walking.

The march was quiet,younger battle brothers always wondered why the veterans trusted the Outlanders so well, after-all they where Xeno forms, it is a story that dates back many years ago.
Centuries ago, the Outlanders where known as the Mak-meku, unlike the nat-nevel and the hok-Haku, the Mak-meku where born without the knife like claws, but shorter, more dull claws, The mak-Meku where almost useless in combat. And unlike their savage cousins, the Mak-meku seemed to think for themselves even though they served the great old ones at the time. In their eagerness to become more adept in combat, the Mak-meku began to develop weapons, starting with simple spears and slowly developing into much more advanced weapons.
While some Nat-nevel began to mutate themselves and fire spikes from their wrists to fight in long range aswell, the Mak-meku where incapable of doing so and instead developed bows and crossbows to compensate.
In a 200 year timespan, the Mak-meku developed quickly and created the first flint lock rifle, and attached a long blade to it for close combat, and their effectiveness in combat was great. When the Mak-meku reached a industrial revolution, they began to question the great old ones, why is it that the Nat-nevel, a primitive race that fights with tooth and claw, is considered the old ones most elite and honorable warriors even though the Mak-meku's advancements in weapons and hundreds of victory's.

As time went on, the Mak-meku colonized dozens of worlds. The Old ones began to see them as a threat, and soon excommunicated them from the allied tribes, making them free game. The Nat-neval and the hok-haku began to merge together into one fighting force, and the Mak-meku began to mobilize their armies.

The mak-meku declared themselves as "outlanders" and changed their name to such.
Their civil war lead on for 25 years until the outlanders made contact with a Yorian expeditionary force, and pleaded for assistance, as powerful as the outlanders forces where, sooner or later, the almost infinite hordes of the tribes would crush them. The Yorians agreed to help the outlanders and sent 30,000 men to aid them. The outlanders where at first skeptical, why such a small force, against the never ending onslaught? The outlanders where greatly surprised when first contact was made, the Yorians had superior weaponry, and would charge headlong against numbers triple theirs, and come out victorious.

The 24 planets that the Outlanders controlled where finally liberated from the constant Gorgon attack, and in return for this, the outlanders swore a allegiance to the Yorian Reich. Ever since that faithful day, the outlanders and Yorians would fight side by side, as brothers in arms.




The chief knew No,vile well, even though they greeted each other like they never seen each other before. The two fought side by side on the outlander colony on aeris prime. The Gorgon Sargent turned his head and spoke to the chief.
"One of our outposts are just ahead, we only have 200 men, The rest of our invasion fleet is setting up a defensive line around lake los and the stingian fields."
Scar looked back at No,vile. "Fresh recruits?" he asked.

No,vile laughed, letting the skin around his mouth separate to reveal his fangs. "No, my friend. The same boys you and I led to victory at Aeris Prime."
Scar was amazed that they where still alive, he wouldn't mind fighting with them again.