The Sight within the frigate was that of a massive storage and utility center. The Condor had been directed to one of the many pads usually reserved for incoming cargo, or equipment. The entire 'dock' itself was dedicated to both landing pads, one of Which the Condor was currently nestled on, to small docking rigs, great metal arms that were capable of locking onto larger craft to keep them in place. Currently, three of these were home to large, rectangular like ships, where several arms combed over their surface... Apparently repairing some sort of physical damage that they had endured.
The entire 'dock' was a long line of this, with the occasional hover craft moving from one 'landing pad' to another, gripping some crate or another underneath it's belly with small, pincer like claws that connected to small hoops on the crates sides.
The main concern for these marines, however, was the military before them.
The most visible was the six M22 Combat Armor suits before them. Hulking piles of metal in the form of a man, stretching easily into nine feet, added further onto their size because of their seemingly bulky nature. The suit was large enough that the helmet ended up almost nestled into the suit's chest frame, it's brilliant orange, reflective visor giving the Aschen a good look at themselves, if they cared to stare at the visors.
The suits were comprised of adamantium, a material, produced in Aklarian refineries that had to be specially configured for it's production, that for it's durability and strength, was considerably high. Small arms fire upon these hulking machines was like rock against steel plating. Very loud. Little effect. Even worse was the adamantium's considerably high melting point, as well as a layering of shock absorbing foam beneath the massive armor, which made to give the armor a considerable defense against energy based weapons.
To add to it's already considerable defenses, the suits contained a defense matrix pack. These matrix's were refresh shields, shields that constantly dispersed and recharged at an incredible rate, it's purpose was to deflect, or considerably slow down, energy or physical rounds fired at the armor, aimed primarily towards larger calibair, or high energy weapons. The method of the shield's refresh did mean it had little effect on weapons with a higher rate of fire, however.
The suits were powered by a rear power pack, a generator that operated on Thollium, an element used often by the Aklarian's for it's massive power output in it's stable form, as well as for it's explosive potential when reduced into an unstable form. Two massive ports on the pack, which protruded just enough from the armor plating of the pack to be visible, let loose a torrent of heat into the air, cooling both the generator, and the suit.
The suit's themselves carried various pieces of equipment. The chest had four floodlights embedded into itself, which the wearer could turn on when desired. The Helmets contained a HUD, that gave the wearer tactical information regarding his current surroundings. People. Weapons. Explosive contents. Objectives. Operator Vitals, were just a few of the things available to these men and woman. These suits could read out the battle field in infrared and heat, and night vision, if required, and the suit itself contained medical packs that could be injected into the operator in an emergency. A mix of stimulants, blood coagulants, as well as medical nanites for the higher grades of armor, thankfully those were not present here.
A majority of the suits carried their
MK2 Standard Visceral Puncture rifle. "The Punisher". Massive rifles built specifically to be wielded by these giants. The upper barrel was capable of firing bursts of focused plasma at a rate of three shots a second, or one hundred eighty in a minute. The rifle was powered by a fuel cell, or an over glorified battery, that was slide into the rear compartment of the stock. The gun also carried an under barrel of a rather large diameter. It's contents were more serious, Rockets, with a shaped charge of thollium in them, their sole purpose to disable, or assault enemy armor.
None of this compared to the rear Combat suit... It was similar to all the others, but it's arms had been replaced with massive cannons. The suit could lift these cannons up, as if he was jutting fists out for a friend to bump, and unleash a storm of energy bursts. It's legs had traded off a little bit of armor, for larger servos to accommodate this weight, yet it was a formidable craft none the less.
To add to all this, a team of no less then eight marines were scattered about, wielding smaller, assorted weapons, many of them appeared to be nothing more than energy based rifles. They were, however, in Wolfhelm's armor, a vacuum sealed suit meant for 'light' infantry, that appeared to be essentially mini figures of the combat suits. It was safe to assume that they shared similar capabilities in terms of utility.
However, two figures stood out from this group, the only ones who's faces were visible. One was a rather large, bulky male, who's features were hard to discern, thanks to that overwhelmingly pitch skin. He was definitely hominoid, that much was certain, to the point where it wouldn't be too far a hazard to assume that they held common ancestry with humans, if one wanted to delve into that sort of question. Yet his skin made him appear as if he was a black shadow, and as the Condor's doors open, the red, illuminated eyes of the man fell onto the officer. The man himself was in his uniform, a very bright white, to contrast his pitch features, and held a variety of emblems scattered on his upper right chest. The cuffs of the uniform's arms were somewhat golden, and the pants themselves were a darkish, navy blue. He did have some sort of small, slim pack mounted on his back and shoulders, but he didn't pay it much mind.
That aside, the male, upon closer examination, was quite stocky. He had an enormous jaw, almost boxy in shape, and his eyes were cold and hard. His shoulders were a boxy square, and if one looked closely, there appeared to be very small protrusions upon them. At first, they might appear to be decorative emblems, but any scrutiny revealed that they were in infact small metal rods, with a slight oval shape at the top, implanted into the flesh itself.
The other was definitely female, a slim body with curves to be sure, yet that build also held tension and strength in it, as brilliant yellow eyes fell onto the Condor's hatch. Brown hair was tied into a neat ponytail, which was thrown down her back. She herself had a grey uniform, with a smaller amount of emblems on her upper right chest, yet the way one of the closest marines regarded her with a certain wariness indicated she was certainly important. Like the male, she had a certain amount of professionalism about her, but her eyes carried more youth and curiosity than her counterpart, and were certainly quite warmer.
The male spoke first. "I am Vasham Van'dune, Admiral, and currently in command of Slo'gars Pact." The man introduced himself, sliding his arms to rest just above his rear waist, while he inclined his head upward just a bit. He was silent after that, observing how his guests would occur from this distance.