SUBLIMEinal
Well-Known Member
"Codes are authenticated. Exodus, you are cleared for approach, as are all escort vessels."
Along the edge of the Abjection system, several powerful anti-gravity generators powered down, and several dozen hyperspace signatures rapidly accelerated towards the planet.
Minutes later, several dozen ships, all from the Intelligence-Pacification Group's naval detachment, appeared in orbit around the frozen world. Most split off to the planet's satellites. Three Malchicks, however, descended into the atmosphere, burning a long trail through the sky. The lead craft was sported two long red streaks of paint from the nose to the wings.
The three ships were headed to a small island, which sported a tall, dark compound. The insignia of the IPG was carved into the dark metal of its face. The lead vessel slowed, landing in front of the structure, and the group of soldiers and administrators bundled against the cold. The other two vessels blazed past, over the horizon.
The ramp of the Malchick lowered, and a group of twelve men stepped down the gray metal walkway, and onto the cold concrete of the landing pad.
The men were all very old, with pale gray skin and white hair. Unlike their reception committee, none of them seemed to notice the cold. Their dress uniforms bared their ranks, not one of which was below Rear Admiral. This was CentCom. They stopped before the group of personnel in front of the compounds massive doors. Ryan Veles stood in the fore of the new arrivals.
"Gentlemen, as you know, Rok'Veru has fallen. Until further notice, this compound will serve as the headquarters for CentCom and the rest of the IPG. We will be beginning several new projects shortly, which you will be briefed on when the time comes. In the mean time, I must meet with the warden. Dismissed."
The crowd dispersed indoors, followed by the new arrivals. Overhead, dozens of shuttles and light starcraft descended from the night sky, heading for other structures on the myriad islands of Objection. The exodus of the IPG's leadership was nearly complete.
Along the edge of the Abjection system, several powerful anti-gravity generators powered down, and several dozen hyperspace signatures rapidly accelerated towards the planet.
Minutes later, several dozen ships, all from the Intelligence-Pacification Group's naval detachment, appeared in orbit around the frozen world. Most split off to the planet's satellites. Three Malchicks, however, descended into the atmosphere, burning a long trail through the sky. The lead craft was sported two long red streaks of paint from the nose to the wings.
The three ships were headed to a small island, which sported a tall, dark compound. The insignia of the IPG was carved into the dark metal of its face. The lead vessel slowed, landing in front of the structure, and the group of soldiers and administrators bundled against the cold. The other two vessels blazed past, over the horizon.
The ramp of the Malchick lowered, and a group of twelve men stepped down the gray metal walkway, and onto the cold concrete of the landing pad.
The men were all very old, with pale gray skin and white hair. Unlike their reception committee, none of them seemed to notice the cold. Their dress uniforms bared their ranks, not one of which was below Rear Admiral. This was CentCom. They stopped before the group of personnel in front of the compounds massive doors. Ryan Veles stood in the fore of the new arrivals.
"Gentlemen, as you know, Rok'Veru has fallen. Until further notice, this compound will serve as the headquarters for CentCom and the rest of the IPG. We will be beginning several new projects shortly, which you will be briefed on when the time comes. In the mean time, I must meet with the warden. Dismissed."
The crowd dispersed indoors, followed by the new arrivals. Overhead, dozens of shuttles and light starcraft descended from the night sky, heading for other structures on the myriad islands of Objection. The exodus of the IPG's leadership was nearly complete.
