| You're a marine, one of Earth's toughest, hardened in combat and trained
for action. Three years ago you assaulted a superior officer for ordering
his soldiers to fire upon civilians. He and his body cast were shipped to
Pearl Harbor, while you were transferred to Mars, home of the Union Aerospace
Corporation. The UAC is a multi-planetary conglomerate with radioactive
waste facilities on Mars and its two moons, Phobos and Deimos. With no action
for fifty million miles, your day consisted of suckin' dust and watchin'
restricted flicks in the rec room.
For the last four years the military, UAC's biggest supplier, has used
the remote facilities on Phobos and Deimos to conduct various secret projects,
including research on inter-dimensional travel. So far they have been
able to open gateways between Phobos and Deimos, throwing a few gadgets
into one and watching them come out the other. Recently however, the Gateways
have grown dangerously unstable. Military "volunteers" entering
them have either disappeared or been stricken with a strange form of insanity
- babbling vulgarities, bludgeoning anything that breathes, and finally
suffering an untimely death of full-body explosion. Matching heads with
torsos to send home to the folks became a full-time job. Latest military
reports state that the research is suffering a small set-back, but everything
is under control.
A few hours ago, Mars received a garbled message from Phobos. "We
require immediate military support. Something fraggin' evil is coming
out of the Gateways! Computer systems have gone berserk!" The rest
was incoherent. Soon afterwards, Deimos simply vanished from the sky.
Since then, attempts to establish contact with either moon have been unsuccessful.
You and your buddies, the only combat troop for fifty million miles
were sent up pronto to Phobos. You were ordered to secure the perimeter
of the base while the rest of the team went inside. For several hours,
your radio picked up the sounds of combat: guns firing, men yelling orders,
screams, bones cracking, then finally, silence. Seems your buddies are
dead.
It's Up To You
Things aren't looking too good. You'll never navigate off the planet on
your own. Plus, all the heavy weapons have been taken by the assault team
leaving you with only a pistol. If only you could get your hands around
a plasma rifle or even a shotgun you could take a few down on your way
out. Whatever killed your buddies deserves a couple of pellets in the
forehead. Securing your helmet, you exit the landing pod. Hopefully you
can find more substantial firepower somewhere within the station.
As you walk through the main entrance to the base, you hear animal-like
growls echoing throughout the distant corridors. They know you're here.
There's no turning back now. |
