It’s the year 2330, Earth Standard Date. If you’re a Terran Human, Synthetic, Veli Vindicator, or Lokri, you’re a momentary survivor of a massive crash-landing event wherein your capitalship was inexplicably and violently ripped from its orbit down to the surface of this alien moon.
You don’t know why. Nobody knows why at this moment, but you suspect your enemies, one of the other factions your ship was locked in a Mexican standoff with only hours before, had something to do with it. Somehow, you were pulled down to this alien, yet familiar planetoid, orbiting a super-earth.
Chaos. Bodies burning. Conduits belching violent current into twisted forms of broken super-structure, as your fellow shipmates desperately labor under yawning bulkheads to free trapped humans, aliens, and machines. And all the while, the endless chattering in the dark just beyond the threshold of your perception. Eyes, watching you. Two. Ten. A hundred. A thousand. My God, my science, they’re everywhere! It’s an attack!!!
The native creatures. Other survivors from the other ships. They’re all equally dangerous; Your only hope being the frantic and desperate repair and re-establishment of make-shift cloning facilities at your base-camp immediately adjacent the smoldering ruin of your once pristine starship; Now buried face-first in a landscape hideously scarred by your arrival.
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