This is the IC thread for The Lucky 13 (reboot)The sun peaked over the tops of massive unearthly trees, which looked more like a giant mutated ferns, then the Terran plant they were named after. As the warm rays of the summer gently caressed the planetâs surface, the various small animals began to stir, chirping and squawking to one another. The light also signaled four sleepy Provosts that their shift done and the unsettling night was over. Slowly the prison guards descended from the towers of Fort Jailbird.
Not that they were really guarding a fort but rather something more like a crudely built camp, surrounded by a fence. There were seven buildings inside, a small hut for the campâs commanding officer, a two long buildings used to housed the Provosts and the convicts (separately of course), a small build that housed two medical personal and their tools, two storage building (one for the exercise equipment and one for food and other supplies) and one squat structure that was labeled as an armory, which as been empty. Now the fence should be taken into consideration.
It was strange for a place that contained convicted criminals. Between each fence post were four bars. Two of them were placed diagonally to form a large X, with one bar running along to the bottom and one bar running along the top. Each of the bars and fence post was electrified but if one were careful, it would be very easy to slip through. This is because the fence was not there to keep the convicts inside but to keep the local wildlife out and in particular, the Londinium Spider.
Now this native creature is not an Arachnid but does resemble them, looking very much like a jumping spider. There are several key differences though. Firstly, the Londinium Spider has ten legs. Secondly, they have but fours eyes, which are of the normal type, unlike the compound eyes of the Arachnid. However, the third difference is the greatest, seeing as that the Londinium Spider grows to be larger then a draft horse. Hey also do not weave webs but hunt at night, like large solitary cats and sleep during the day.
Major Robert Rogers, formerly of the 9th Regina Light Infantry and currently assigned to a special project by the Federation Council, woke up slowly. It was still early in the morning, or at least it was on Londinium, as it was roughly seven-thirty hours local time. As it was unsafe in the early hours, the camp had shifted everyoneâs sleeping pattern to fit the local predators. On a normal day, in about half an hour, the Provosts would be waking the convicts in the bunkhouse, so they could start the five-mile run before breakfast.
On a normal day that is. The past few days had been anything but normal. It started when he wasnât able to take the convicts for their the morning run. He had to inspect the shipment of arms that came into the camp and thus placed a provost Lieutenant named Davies in charge of that routine. The damn fool had lead them right into a hunting pack of juvenal Londinium Spiders. Nearly every one of his criminals had been bitten repeatedly (one had nearly been killed) and had been forced to spend the rest of the day in the infirmary. A good number had to spend the next day in there too and there was still at least one in there this morning.
This newest problem had set the training back. The plan had been to allow the convicts three days of practice with the weapons, before moving them to mock up of the city they were going to attack. Now they were going to get one day to pick through the assorting firearms, find one they really liked and get to know it better then their own bodies. Wonderful, truly wonderful.
Moving slowly, the Major lifted his lean and muscular body from the cot, so that he did not disturb his partner. A couple of months ago, he would have laughed at the notion of his caring about Inali Vercona, the prison whore he had recruited from a frozen shithole called Jukau Gamma, for a near suicide mission deep behind enemy lines on a planet far from his home. But you know, surviving mutinies, attacks by alien life forms, attempted murder together and some great sex could change just about anyoneâs mind. Maybe just the really great sex would have been enough to make him care about her beauty sleep. Whatever it was, it didnât matter, not really.
As Rogers started to dress in his utilities, getting on his shorts and pants before he couldnât help reflect on his mission. He had recruit thirteen convicts, train them and then attempted to destroy a number of defensive installations, on a world held by the Tarnakians, an alien race bent on wiping out humanity. As he went through the mission details in his head, he couldnât help the look of smoldering anger, as he came to the communication he had received just about a month ago.
It had been about the weapons he was expected to force his convicts to use. Now he wasnât a big enough fool to think they were going to get the latest and greatest weapons in humanityâs arsenal, like the Mark IV Pulselaser Carbine but he had been think that theyâd get the somewhat dangerous Mark Is. This was not the case, they were going to get even older weapons, that used a chemical explosive to fire a projectile from the muzzle of the firearm!