Grym came to burined under debris. His head was still ringing from the hell the Crow unleashed on the surface. he had been drug down by a half dozen stygian drones. That was lucky for him. a Missile had detonated directly over the spider hole he had fallen into. The drones had absorbed the blast and the shrapne.
      The tunnel he was in was not a stygian burrow, it was part of the stations service network. lights flickered and sprked the sighs of fiercve gunbattle all around him. a discarded marine shotgun lay nearby three clips of ammo taped together for quick change. ZThe owner lay under a pile of dead stygian, his dead hand still gripping a vibra blade machette he had resorted to when overran.

HE slowly stood up, shaking his head to clear it of its ringing pain. He looked about taking in scene in front of him. His first thoughts were to reconstruct what had happened and then to search for weapons. He checked for his own first his sniper rifle and pistol. His weapons, were important but he would make do if they were gone. He moved to the dead marine, picking up the blade and the shotgun. As he stood back up he looked both ways trying to figure out which way he should go.

   His eyes slowly adjusting to the dark and the ringing subsiding he could see that the utility tunnels branched off in several directions the small circular chamber was filled with power lines, water mains and data conduits. most colonies were built over a network of utility tunnels to protect their power and water from the unpredictable hazards of a new world. The room he was in was obviously a seconday hub branching out into six other smaller passages.
   Up was not an optipn at this point. the stygians had no need fort ladders or steps they simply scittered up using hand holds too small for a human hand. The sun from above was filtered by black smoke and the sound of occasional secondary explosions still sounded as the cargo and fuel supplies for the small landing port burned.
      There were two choices deeper into the colonies infrastructure, until Grym found the utility core where the colonies Quantumn Resonance Power plant was located or toward the perimeter, where he could slip away into the desert and make his way to the main colony Hub. There was little chance of any one freindly still being topside. Very few people survived being drug into the lair of mansized predators.

He checked the weapons before deciding he would head out towards the perimeter. At least there he had a chance of being able to slip away and possibly hoof it to some sort of civilization. He gave one more glance back as he began to walk away, he also needed to find out what happened to the rest of the crew. He hugged the walls and began moving off at a slow but steady pace he could keep up for the entire day.

Moving along the service tunnels Grymm finds his way by twists and turned at the far end of the series of cramped corridors. at times having to squeeze through narrow gaps in conduits and trunk lines that feed power and water to the outlying buildings. Twice the sound of skittering in adjoining tunnels fills the air, shadows move out of the corner of his eye and a strong chemical scent fills the air.
   outside the service shafts, the area is silnt. Buildings burn in the distance filling the air with dark heavy smoke before a strong wind drives it away.  From his position Grym catches sight of an ugly asymmetric hulled craft hovering over the secondary colony. dark reddish brown it's elongated form sprouting spikes and lender antenna at seemingly random locations the craft is  a Q'sa built ship, far from their pace and not a common sight outside of Newssheets and Space pirate vid. The presence of the craft, the pall of smoke and silence would be worrisome to most men, terrifying to anyone who had not been hardened by combat and similar situations.

He did a check on his weapons, the bright sun forcing him to squint from his time in the tunnels. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire." He mumbled to himself. He took stock of his surroundings the shubbery and anything he could use as cover. The craft worried him, his own survival instinct telling him, sreaming at him to move the other direction. A small hardened voice though whispered beneath his instincts, duty, if that ship was bringing in raiders there could be colonists that needed assistance and that had been why he joined the military in the first place.

He lossened the machette in its jury rigged sheath and took off at a slow pace trying to move undetected towards the colony. His own survival would have to wait, he was a man of simple principals and the innocent deserved protection. He wished he had his sniper rifle that would even the odds a bit, but he would have to make do with what he had.

  The colony perimeter is an ugly sight, buldings hav been burnt and looted, bodie left where they fell. a dozen private security men have fallen holding back the q'a asult buying time for civilians o evacuate. thre times their numer Q'sa seemed to have went down in the fighting. most dropped by short range shotgun blasts or in hand to hand combat. the guards having dealt out tremendous damag before going down.

   On the surface the colony is deserted, no one in the strets only the pall of smoke hanging over the outskirts moves in the breeze. It's pretty obvious if anyone survived the asault they are long gone.

He surveyed those around him the men and women who had given their lives in the line of duty. He slowly moved amongst the dead, his errand gruesome but important. He checked every body, there were a few things he was looking for. ID chips that he could take, these soldiers deserved to be remembered, but also ammo and perhaps by luck a sniper rifle, and some ammo for that. He closed each set of eyes he came across crossing himself and saying a short prayer, a soldier's prayer for each of the dead.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:42, Sat 06 Mar 2010.

   the colony is truly dead, after a search nothing but bodies and abandoned equipment remain. Nothing had been looted, valuable equipment left in the store rooms, weapons left laying in the streets or locked into gun lockers about the colony. In the colony security office many of the officers fell before they could reach the arms locker. their sidearms still in their holsters.

      The sheer speed and overwhelming brutality of the assault seemed to precise to lethal for the Q'sa. no officer would have been setting at his desk eating a sandwich during an alert and Q'sa were blunt force operators. it would be impossible, for them to get into the colony core without someone noticing and sounding an alert.
   The silent craft overhead itself seemed dead. from close inspection it's hatches were open and only it's docking drives hummed nearly silent, barely perceptible over the wind sweeping through the empty streets

OOC: you can reequip yourself from the lockers and you can find your rifle near the star port. nothing remains only the ship hovering overhead which has not moved since you arrived.

He rummaged through the various gear, the shotgun getting slung over his shoulder. He picked up a sidearm and after checking the mag he commandeered a holster and strapped it to his leg. The final jewel was a full blown sniper, a Nighthawk laser sniper system. A grim smile played acros his features as he sighted down the weapons scope, he now had a weapon the would even the odds of his survival.

He gathered a bit of webbing from the lockers and a backpack, he shoved whatever MREs he could find in the bag along with spare ammo. The combat webbing he used to rig himself a ghillie suit. After all his preperations as the sun began to set he stood up and after a short terse prayer and a look about he began walking out into desert. His next course of action was to move on to the next settlement that was close. Escape and Evasion was no longer the plan, he was armed he was aware and he was pissed. A whole outpost wiped out and the Q'sa were not that precise. What exactly was going on here?

HE set out into the night, keeping to the lowlands and avoiding the highlines were he could be spotted from a distance. His footsteps were as near silent as he could make them. A shadow moving through the night. He senses and guard were in overdrive as he began to make his way towards the next question.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:52, Mon 22 Mar 2010.

   Grym makes better time than he expected the terrain rough, broken provided excellent cover and many routes to his objective. He traveled for two days before coming to an obstacle that blocked any easy crossing a wide flat plain littered with boulders. over it drones patrolled in regular patterns and the dark shapes and jerky movements of Q'sa soldiers moved among the boulder field. there was no easy passage during the day and at night it would be treacherous. too many Q'sa were moving about.
His initial count marked the enemy strength at well over company strength. unlike most mercs these Q'sa were armed and armored in a uniform fashion. moving in squads and behaving more like soldiers than hired guns.