You’re all familiar with this alien jungle world of Dawkin’s Dive…you’ve been living on the damn thing for three years already. And while it’s never been exactly a cakewalk, things used to be easier. Simpler. Before the forest decided it wanted us dead.
You don’t need me to remind you where your allegiances lie. The offices of Terra Venture Incorporated, Conglomerated, etc. etc. bought rights to mine this world, and for some god-forsaken reason you decided to sign on with them. Run security details. Guard trucks. Shoot swamp rats. Get paid. Easy money, you thought; there isn’t a single sentient species on this entire planet. Or so you thought.
I’m sure you’ve all heard the stories. Missing convoys. Abandoned camps. Grisly discoveries. Boogiemen in the night. Well, soldiers, I ain’t here to fill your heads with nonsense and old-wives’ tales about monsters from under your bed. I don’t need to–these scars on my face will do all the talking I need. Something jumped me one night out in the trees and tried to take me home to be its wife. I respectfully disagreed, along with a little help from my M77. Changed its mind right quick.
Well, it looks like you might have a chance to meet the thing for yourself. The fuel hit the fire early this morning.
“K162” is a hilltop bunker, out by itself in the middle of the jungle. Don’t feel surprised you’ve never heard of it…it’s apparently some kind of secret wildlife research station. Or that’s what Command tells me, at any rate; I’ve also been kept conveniently in the dark. We received an emergency radio call from the station around 0228 this morning, with reports of a “breach.” We lost contact soon after.
And that’s where you come in, Soldier. Your mission, whether or not you choose to accept it, is to deploy immediately to K162 and give us a sitrep on the situation. Get in; get an idea of what’s going on; get word back to us.
Your own survival is secondary.
Good luck out there, cause I jolly well ain’t tagging along with you. Dismiss!