The expedition so far went on without a hitch, the<em>Others</em>as human’s tended to call them hadn’t seemed to locate the little cargo ship barreling towards earth.  Truthfully though, the aliens hadn’t been seen in the quadrant for ages.  Perhaps, some scientists theorized, and many normal folk hoped they had disappeared to whatever dark corner of the universe that had spawned them, and this meant humanity might be able to make an exodus back to their home world.  To regain what was lost to them so many years ago.  That was one of the reason’s behind this little adventure,  the crew was supposed to gauge if the planet was capable of still sustaining human life and to study the life forms that had newly emerged on earth surface since it’s scorching.<br/><br/>It was six months after the ship had blasted off from New Rome,  the center of humanities stronghold in the stars.  Since then,  the passengers of the NEW HOPE,  had formed bonds,  made enemies,  and gambled up considerable debts and winnings from one another.  There were six people in all,  it was all the empire could muster and risk.  Such a small squad wouldn’t even register as a blink against their cosmic aggressors,  it also minimized potential causalities if all hell did indeed broke loose.<br/><br/>Of the six their was Alexander St. Claire,  he was the units weapon expert.  He was loud, boisterous,  and spent his free time drinking his own homemade moonshine while trying to ingratiate himself with the members of the company that belonged to the fairer sex.  He wasn’t exactly what you would call a bad person,  he was a man with rough edges,  and was no gentleman.  Despite his rough exterior he was actually quite the sweet heart once you managed to break down his military constructed barriers.  Appearance wise,  he was a handsome if not grizzled man, usually sporting a days growth of facial hair,  and his mop of black hair was usually a mess.<br/><br/>Then their was Lidia Eddas,  the Medical officer.  She was a world renown biologist, and medical doctor.  Rumors abound that the woman had a death wish,  she supposedly lost family member’s back home to an alien virus that she hadn’t managed to cure.  It’s been haunting her ever since,  she supposedly chose the most dangerous missions the emperor offered her,  either hoping to redeem herself in her fallen family members eyes.  Or perhaps she was just looking to join them a little sooner.  She didn’t talk much,  and spent most of her time working in the little garden that she had been tending to since launch.  It was a private place for her,  but she would often bring fresh fruits and vegetables to the table,  and supposedly she practiced a bit of “mystic medicine” that relied heavily on herbs.  She was a mousy looking woman,  with pinched in features and squinting eyes.  Though she had a voice that could butter.<br/><br/>The pilot was one Ruth Eckart,  she was as wild and rambunctious as Alexander.  She was the woman behind the wheel.  She drank,  smoked, and cursed with more profiency then any man or woman on board.  Alexander always said she could suck the paint off a ships hull.  Though, she wasn’t all wild parties…  she was a daredevil at the controls,  but she was one of the best pilots the fleets ever had.  She was also very adamant in saying that she would be the first woman to have a child on the resettled earth.  The journey was in a way a religious experience to the woman.  She’s talked about it faithfully every day, and every inch closer to her home planet seems to put a little more spring in the beautiful woman’s step.  She’s a tall blond,  with curves to spare and a beautiful face that brings fourth images of an old American prom queen.<br/><br/>Marcus Durnheim,  is an elderly gentleman.  He exudes old world class, and despite being in his early sixties,  he’s held up surprisingly well.  He comes off as elegant and debonair, truthfully an aristocrat through and through.  He’s often found smoking a cigar, or having a few sips from his wine stock.  The man never wear’s fatigues and is usually wearing a tailored suit.  He doesn’t seem like much of an adventure,  but he was one of the foremost individuals in the field of earth history, pre invasion.  Not only that, but he has studied the others almost obsessively no one is quite sure why,  but he hates them with a burning passion.  Perhaps,  over the culture that was lost and will never be found after their dread weapon’s turned the planet earth in a burnt out husk.<br/><br/>The last member of the team was Steven “Radar” Hilmer.  He was by far the youngest member of the crew.  He was a hacker, who had directed an information assault upon the empire itself.  He was discovered and given the choice to be executed for treason,  or join the little away mission.  He chose to join the team,  he’s a wiz with computers, communications, and satellite manipulation.  He’s a shy young man, who spends most of his time whiling away the hours in VR simulators, of a less then reputable nature.  His nick name, actually came from a tv series that was popular on ancient earth, because his appearance, and skills bare a striking resemblance to one of the characters.<br/><br/>This would be the last night onboard the new hope as it rocketed through space.  It would land on earth,  before the night was over.  The ship was a bit solemn tonight,  even the wild Ruth seemed somber as she guided the ship to their target.  She had refused to sleep,  and wouldn’t allow the computer to handle the landing.  This was all her,  and she wasn’t going to let a computer ruin her journey.  Lidia, as usual was away in her garden,  Marcus was locked in his room, leaving only Radar,  Alexander,  and the ships archeologist in what would be called the common’s room.<br/><br/>Alexander was drinking quietly,  eyes half lidded as he watched reruns of a sitcom that had lost popularity well before they departed New Rome.  His eyes would occasionally fall shut,  and he would begin to snore,  the sound of which would cause him to rocket back to consciousness.  He wanted to be awake when they landed,  but,  it wasn’t looking good for the man,  an episode or two more would probably have him lying face first on the couch.<br/><br/>Radar on the other hand, was wide awake, despite yearning for a goodnight’s sleep.  He was currently killing his boredom by playing a rather complicated looking strategy game,  called The Empire of The Phoenix.  It detailed battles between the Empire and The Others in the near future.  It was a rather looked down upon in the empire and considered tasteless by many refined member’s of modern society.  They simply wanted to forget the whole ordeal.  Steven,  like any rebellious member of the youth of today,  was playing as the Others and currently overwhelming a small unit of human space marines.  “Die!”  came that high pitched nasal voice.  “Die!”  His fingers moved faster across the keys,  and his mouse darted too and fro.  For some reason,  the images on the screen would bring a sense of impending dread to the minds of anyone who let their eyes wander upon it for long.<br/><br/>This left the young archeologist….<br/><br/><br/>Somewhere on Earth<br/><br/>A signal using Terran encryption reached the sensors of a long dormant computer,  in an installation that miraculously survived the scorching.  It whirred to life,  sending signals satellites that were in disrepair.  At the same time,  monitor’s along the walls sprang to life and a soft feminine voice filled the small room.<br/><br/>“Human craft in transit,  time of arrival in an estimated eight hours.”  It sounded like a young woman in her late teens.  “Detecting six life forms,  all of which are genetically identical to Homo Sapien.  Preparing for arrival…”<br/><br/>A loud hum echoed throughout the installation, as if an ancient generator was activated deep within the ruined fortress.  “Preparing to activate Project Omega…”  Gauges sprung to life, revealing massive amounts of power being diverted to a single nodule..<br/><br/>A large solid silver object that looked like a coffin,  with wires jutting haphazardly from various ports began to spark,  arcs of some unknown energy danced across the surface as a mechanical hand pressed against a glass porthole.  The hand was feminine, with long delicate digits,  that looked as if they were made from finely polished silver.  Each digit was tipped with a short claw.<br/><br/>“Transmitting coordinates…”  Came that odd voice once again.<br/><br/>Once more aboard the Cargo ship,  a high pitched whir pierced the ears of the men and women who were upon it.  Soon,  every computer screen was flashing what seemed to be random numbers.<br/><br/>“What the fuck?”  Came Ruth’s voice over the intercom.<br/>