C4 Hahaha! The Fun Begins!

Opening my red eyes, I was immediately struck by the unfamiliar sight outside the viewing ports of the Einherjar.

Instead of the familiar star fields or known celestial bodies, there was an unknown planet, hanging like a jewel against the backdrop of space.

Yet for some reason I had the nagging feeling of familiarity It felt like I had returned to the sweet embrace of my mother.

In other words home but the most alarming thing was that the ever-present game Interface was gone.

For a moment I stood there clad In my all-black officer's hat adorning my head, a trench coat that clung tightly to my herculean body with 6 white Imperators stars adorning my shoulders.

with a red half cape covering my left shoulder with my factions emblem, a black Iron Fenrir bitting Its own tail Inside golden laurel leaves.

With white words embroidered boldly "The Militaris, and Citizens of Imperium" MQCI for short, a tactical belt around my waist with my loaded smart 20 mm smart pistol.

With two additional mags strapped to my right hip and my straight laser edged combat katana to my left hip that only officers and NCOs had the right to carry

Breeches and knee length waxed and polished to perfection leather boots. (Concept Art In paragraph comment)

"You've got to be f*cking kidding me..."

I cursed out loud as I took off my officer's hat with my left gloved hand and ran my gloved right hand through my white hair which had a string of black falling over my right eye.

"Hahaha...!"

I started laughing like a maniac as my inner weeb that had evolved Into the ultimate edge lord over the years kept screaming In my mind that I transmigrated from a game to reality.

Well, this Is going to be fun...

I thought as my lips curled up Into a f*cked-up grin.

"Status report!"

My voice boomed across the deck, cutting through the low hum of the ship's operations.

My Executive Officer, Wolf, a seasoned officer known for his meticulous attention to detail, quickly stepped forward with the report.

His eyes were focused as he read off the holographic data from the ship's advanced sensors displayed In his glass see-through holographic tablet.

"Imperator, we've entered an unknown solar system. Preliminary scans show it's a G-type main-sequence star, similar to Sol-class stars but not one we have on record. The system contains eight planets. The third from the star, the one we're orbiting, is a terrestrial planet with a composition and atmosphere almost Identical to E*rth In other words a 'Class M' planet."

I listened intently, the more I listened the more the naging feeling of familiarity Intensified.

A system with a sun like ours but not one we recognized.

A planet beneath us that could harbor life that Is exactly like mine.

Wolf continued.

"The planet, which we're designating as 'M1' for our records, shows signs of habitation. There are artificial structures, extensive land and water mass changes indicating advanced civilization. And, Imperator, there's an object in orbit - it appears to be a space station of some sort. It's primitive compared to our technology but definitely a sign of spacefaring capability."

"Keep us in a geostationary orbit above the planet. I want continuous scans of the planet. Gather as much data as possible about the civilization, their technological level, and that space station."

I instructed, my mind racing with possibilities and strategies.

As Wolf relayed my orders, I pondered our next move.

This was a critical moment – a chance to learn about a completely new world and its inhabitants.

The decisions I make now could shape the nature of our relationship with M1 Inhabitants.

As the captain of the TIS Einherjar, I understood the gravity of our situation orbiting this unknown planet, I issued the command that would escalate our ship's readiness.

"XO, raise our status to DEFCON 1, and prep my death squad for boarding I want that space station boarded and their occupants In my interrogation room ASAP" 

I ordered choosing the fire first ask questions later way of doing things like I always do because that's just what kind of man I was.

Wolf acknowledged with a brisk nod, his voice steady as he relayed the command.

"All hands, this is DEFCON 1. Prepare for potential engagement. Pilots and Cosmic Marines to your stations."

Upon hearing the order, the crew's demeanor shifted immediately, the atmosphere charged with a new intensity.

Every member of the ship, from the engineers to the deck operators, moved with a heightened sense of purpose, knowing that DEFCON 1 was the highest state of readiness.

The pilots dressed In black space uniforms under their armored vests with their fully-enclosed helmets under their armpits, some of the best in existence, hurried to the hangar bay where their strike craft awaited. (Concept art In paragraph comment)

Their steps were quick and determined, each pilot mentally preparing for the possibility of a combat situation.

As they strapped themselves into their cockpits and connected their helmets to their life support systems Integrated Into their harness backs, they ran through their pre-flight checklists with practiced efficiency.

The hangar bay was a hive of activity, with the ground crew working swiftly to ensure that each craft was in optimal condition.

The pilots exchanged brief nods, a silent acknowledgment of the seriousness of their mission.

Meanwhile, the Cosmic Marines after doing their Mark I Apex power armor with the help of their power armors racks mechanical arms assembled in the drop bay, their presence formidable. (Concept art In paragraph comment)

Clad from head to toe in their bulky power armor whose backs stuck out because of their fusion cores that added twenty centimeters to their height, they were the epitome of preparedness and resilience.

The marines checked their gear, ensuring that every weapon, every piece of armor, was secured and operational.

They boarded their dropships, a routine they had practiced countless times, but this time it was different.

The unknown nature of the planet added a layer of unpredictability to their mission.

There were murmurs among the marines, speculations about what they might encounter, but their hidden faces remained resolute, focused on the task at hand.

The dropship pilots ran their final system checks, their hands steady despite the palpable tension. (Concept art In paragraph comment)

These ships were designed for rapid deployment, capable of delivering the marines from orbit to the surface quickly and efficiently.

The pilots understood the critical role they played in ensuring the marines' safe and timely arrival.

As the TIS Einherjar maintained its vigilant orbit, the crew, pilots, and marines prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead.

Each person aboard knew that the actions taken in the coming hours could have significant implications.

In the vastness of space, orbiting a planet shrouded in mystery, the TIS Einherjar stood ready, a testament to the skill and bravery of her crew.

"Setting course for the space station codenamed Bravo,"

Announced first Lieutenant Mark Vasquez, his fingers moving swiftly over the holographic controls.

The trajectory for the Mark I Styx dropship and Mark I Wraith fighters was calculated in seconds, a direct path to the space station.

Executive Officer Wolf dressed In the same service uniforms as me and every other officer on the bridge except for the additional accessories befitting my rank, standing resolute at the command console, oversaw the operation with a commanding presence.

"Open a channel to Dropship Alpha and Wraith Flight. Confirm immediate launch readiness,"

He ordered in a firm tone.

Communications Officer Ensign James Harper quickly relayed the command.

"Dropship Alpha and Wraith Flight, you are cleared for immediate launch towards the space station, confirm readiness."

The main view screen showed the status indicators for the Death Squad composed of cream of the crop cosmic marines and Wraith fighters switch to 'ready'.

The camera feeds from the hangar bay displayed the Death Squad with the same half capes as Draculas adorning their left armored shoulders, an elite team, boarding the dropship with disciplined precision.

Sergeant Alex Mirov, leader of the Death Squad, responded with assurance.

"Death Squad is prepped and ready for launch."

In the hangar bay, the three male pilots of the Wraith flight finalized their preparations.

The advanced fighters, resembling futuristic F22 Raptors, hummed with readiness, their sleek forms ready for the mission ahead.

Flight Leader Lieutenant Jack "Hawkeye" Thompson finished his systems check.

The cockpit's array of instruments glowed in affirmation.

"Wraith Flight is go for launch," he communicated with clear confidence.

Back on the bridge, Wolf nodded in acknowledgment.

"Initiate launch sequence. Dropship Alpha, you are clear to proceed. Wraith Flight, provide escort and cover."

The dropship with two main chemical thrusters fixed to Its primary wings and two secondary ones fixed to its tail wings, a symbol of might and readiness, glided forward from one of the side hangar's blue energy barrier.

That kept the atmosphere from leaking out followed by the Wraith fighters that flew out from the bottom hangar and quickly formed up around the dropship in a tight, protective formation.

"Maintain a constant communication link with the dropship and fighters,"

I instructed, my voice echoing commandingly across the bridge.

"Affirmative, Imperator. Dropship and fighter Flight en route to the space station. ETA four minutes,"

Lieutenant Vasquez responded.