Space/click Slide 1: Flayed One Journal Log: Sergeant E. Snyder, 19. Expeditionstruppe -LOG START- Time/Date: 16h45 10/05/2238 We're onboard the HMS Prinz Hardt and closing in on the asteroid designated X-432, it was not too far from Samoa. Scans show a barely stable atmosphere. We have been ordered to deploy a small recon team to investigate anomalies detected on the surface. It was an uneventful ride down in the shuttle. The hatch opened 15 feet above ground, and we jumped. Scans showed remnants of technology long thought lost—Gauss weapons buried within the rock. A wave of unease washed over us. Within minutes of our discovery, the squads fanned out, ours into a cave. We found numerous weapons, of which we collected. We moved further, and noises could be heard. We approached, and then the Heathens approached. We must have awoken them, and they must have been enraged by our plundering. They charged, but we were not fast enough. We lost two men within the first minutes—Renn and Marlowe. The terror in their eyes still haunts me. I activated the emergency signal, but communications were spotty. Rounds went off near my ear; my squad was pinned down. We took refuge behind some wreckage—ancient ships turned rubble. The air was filled with the acrid smell of fresh carcasses. The heathens were relentless; they had no weapons, so they charged us, and more joined their ranks. Just as we started to make a break for the shuttle, I caught a glimpse of movement ahead. More Heathens emerged from the shadows, their forms twisted as if they had crawled from an underworld. As we scrambled back to the ship, the last sight I had was Rook, our last medic, held back by an ambush. I can't shake that image from my mind. We barely made it into the shuttle, the hull shaking as we took off amidst a hail of claws. Now, onboard the Prinz Hardt, I can hear the alarms blaring. It seems the battle is far from over. Reports of breaches on the lower decks. The Heathens have managed to board us, by our misfortune. We are prepared for a firefight here as well. We eventually disposed of the wretch that attacked us. The lower decks were heavily damaged, but the engines survived. Crew losses were in the hundreds. High command will not be pleased. -LOG END-
As far as Der Oberkommando is aware, the 'Heathens', or Flayed Ones, origin is unknown. They have no intention of using any weapons aside from themselves. We have acquired some weapons and modified them. They are efficient and can penetrate those who created them.
