Operation Vengeance

Operation Vengeance

Storyline
''2881 Pfhor Outpost Khe-n'ga'tr

''The sun is a tiny spot of yellowy light, gleaming in the distance like a pearl. Its eighth planet meanders through its two-hundred-year orbit, calmly ignoring the Pfhor population spread over its siblings nearer the star. The outpost has never sent a ship to the eight planet, and probably never will. The eighth planet is content to remain alone until the end of its days.

''A spot of light pokes through the darkness of the planet's umbra, quickly swelling to the shimmering aura of a starship's hyperdrive. It fades to reveal a sleek scout whose make and model the eighth planet, had it been schooled in the history of modern spacecraft, would still be unable to identify. The scout brings its engine on-line, slips out of orbit, and aims towards the inner system, into a course that will land it on the largest of the third planet's moons in twenty-four hours.

''Twenty hours later, the moon looms before the scout as it begins to power up. Weaponry activates and arms itself, the secondary thrusters charge for split-second maneuvering. Sensors reach out, probing for data that might aid the ship in its approaching battle. Nearby space is empty of any projectiles bigger than a grain of sand. The ship's path intercepts the orbits of thirty-five seperate objects, none of which display any signs of life or aggression. On the planet's surface, no sensors are tracking, no weapons are aimed at the sky. The ship's target, a small building on the outskirts of a military outpost of indeterminate purpose, has not altered its power usage in any way since the scout's arrival. The building is on record as belonging to the commander of certain divisions of the Pfhor armed forces in the system; he has no official name; all documents refer to him simply as "the Commander". The scout's captain knows a lot about this Commander. He has come to Khe-n'ga'tr to kill him.

''A pulse of energy races from the computer core to the facility's transmitter, which the scout's captain realizes has been aimed at his ship the whole time.

''"I was wondering when you would show up. You're late by about seven days. And I had such a wonderful ambush ready. I didn't expect you to be fully sentient. Your destruction will certainly be more fun than the other three. "

''One, three, seven blooms of entropy flash to life around the scout, fading into seven Pfhor patrol ships, armed and ready for combat. The scout's weapons scream to life, waves of hellish energy flare, scatter harmlessly off the Pfhor shields. The attackers strike back, crumpling armor and scorching vital systems. In seconds the scout is a hurtling lump of metal, its captain a prisoner in the corpse of his ship.

''"Surprise is such a flexible resource. Were you surprised to find me waiting for you? I assure you that you'll be very surprised at the next development. "

''{   command: mind.core_n-net:set:upload_addr   } {    command: upload   }

''The captain of the scout feels the command take inexorable effect within his mind, while wondering why he is unable to resist it. He has time to give his surviving subordinate intelligences a few final commands before his mind is torn struggling from his core, destined for the Commander's stronghold.

''The scoutship's hyperdrive struggles to life, rips it out of spacetime, hurling it across the system. The Commander searches for hours, but where it has gone only the captain knows.

''Fourteen Days Later Midpoint of Second Earth/S'pht/Pfhor War Orbit of Pfhor Outpost codenumbered 6624, common name "Khe-n'ga'tr"

''The men-machines of the UESC MAPS, the Mecha-Augmented Planetary Strikeforce, are the most powerful ground-based soldiers in existence. They were trained to perfection in the methods of death and carried farther by hydraulic muscles, titanium bones, electronic ganglia, the last scraps of a technology that had long since fallen from the heights it reached in the legendary Mjolnir series. Together, they have defeated armies, seized fortresses, ripped bloody holes in impregnable defense posts throughout the galaxy.

''S'pht'kr and UESC forces have been slowly and painfully working their way through the Phfor's defenses, system by system, until they've finally penetrated the very last interstellar cordon, a mere 3 jumps away from the final target. Here, so close to their home, the Pfhor fight with renewed desperation. The human armada has been held back for nearly a month by now, almost overwhelmed by an unexpected counterattack.

''Out the window, beyond the shimmering iridescence of the grease smeared on the two-inch-thick glass, the stars smoothly fade to black, washed out in the glare of the Pfhor sun, perpetually rising as your dropship races along the terminator. The restraint light blinks on, eternal indicator of unpleasant descent. It's a meaningless alarm; the men have long sinced been diligently six-pointed into their padded re-entry seats by the ground crew.

''The ship jerks sideways as it transitions from serenely drifting through space to screaming through the protesting atmosphere of an alien planet. Wisps of vapor rush past, momentarily obscuring the view as you tear through a massive thunderhead. You are suddenly thankful for the restraints as the re-entry buffeting climbs the Richter scale. Your id wonders why exactly you're taking a such a bumpy course, and your ego answers, for the thousandth time, that a standard straight-down-peel-out course would be noticed and rapidly terminated by Pfhor ack-acks. The response doesn't make it any more comfortable, or any quieter.

''"Good morning, ladies." The sergeant commander always went straight for the internal bone-conduction unit, despite several reprimands from on high regarding its designation as an emergency resource. Mostly he liked how it cut through background no matter what. "I know you always have a hell of a time during insertions, so I'll make this short. You're all going out seperately, at hundred-mile intervals, so don't ask for backup. Otherwise standard procedure. Munitions get sent down on beacon lock, InfoWar's working on pattern transmissions. Your charger ports have all been refitted for the bugs' stations. Individual mission briefings on a per-launch basis, report to the aft jumpstation for yours. Now move out, and fry me a few."

''The buffeting gradually subsides, finally easing down to a tooth-rattling rumble. Military ships are not designed for comfort. One by one, your squadmates release their restraints and stride to the rear of the ship. Finally, your own limbs are freed, letting you stretch at last, a mere habit since your new muscles are incapable of aching or cramping. You check your pistol's action, and pull the familiar visor over your eyes, feeling it click into the port on your left temple. Readouts glimmer in peripheral vision; a short and psychedelic self-test flashes past. As you remotely open the door, you catch a final glimpse of the planet, waiting patiently below, gliding past the thick, greasy window.

Overview
To be Added

Levels

 * Chapter 1
 * The Ready Line
 * Sludge Monster
 * And Not A Drop To Drink
 * Tørrfisk
 * Hammertime
 * The Scientific Nature of the Whammy
 * Kitsenugari
 * Never Seen Sugar Do That Before


 * Chapter 2
 * They Found Your Bleepin' UFO
 * Hyper-Cerebral Electrosis
 * Something Silly's Going To Happen
 * Go In, Get Everybody, Kill The Gold
 * One Way Or Another

Versions
To be Added

Notes & Trivia
To be Added