TEKNIK
50 Years into mankind’s future, the human race was looking promising. Technology, medicine and just the general state of the race was much improved from the greedy, squabbling, selfish rabble we know today. The advancement of the space program was also going well. Advancements in numerous fields including a faster than light drive were in development but this, one of mankinds greatest acheivments would prove to be the start of its downfall. The energy surge of the initial 'Jump' attracted attention to our little planet. Attention it could do without.
Just 2 Years later, the assault began. A fleet of ships, identifying themselves as the Teslan's approached under a flag of peace, drawn to the planet after picking up distant traces of unknown energy. They declared the Earth would be granted a place within their empire and though the governments of Earth declined, it was soon realised that it was not an offer, it was a statement of fact. The chance to accept was merely an opportunity to avoid human casualties. What we called a war, they called Pest control.
When the assault began it was revealed that the Teslan’s were a robotic race, roughly 40ft tall though some varied, and they were capable of camouflage. It was all reminiscent of an old cartoon. Vehicles, Machinery, and worst of all, Weapons began converting themselves into Robotic soldiers. Teslan Infantry, hiding on earth for years, locked in their alternate forms until a signal from their main force began the assault, began to devastate the population. We never stood a chance.
They occupied Earth for decades, harvesting the resources and tapping the potential of mankind. Because of their logical, mechanical nature they saw the human imagination as a great asset. Where they had ’proved’ faster than light was impossible, and given up on the project, humans had dared to ignore ’fact’ and succeeded.
It was this that led to the creation of the Biomek. The human resistance, though small and limited had dug itself in well, and deep enough that they couldn’t be simply dug out. The sheer size of the Teslan's prevented them accessing the small sewers and service corridors the humans utilized and so logically they would need to use troops of a similar size, and also logically the best thing of human size to use would be an actual human. They rounded up and captured a number of human subjects and subjected them to Teslan technology, adding their DNA to a Teslan pre-form. Essentially an Infant. This pre-form would absorb, and bond with its host, creating a Teslan/human hybrid, literally a living, growing machine. Since the pre-form was a blank slate however it would be the humans thoughts and memories that would take control and would need to be wiped. Before the reprogramming could be completed however a Resistance raid caused a malfunction in another laboratory experimenting in Temporal mechanics. The Biomek's were caught in the accident and vanished.
They appeared 40 years in the past. On the exact day that the first faster than light jump was made. Unfortunately, as most of these things go, they werent exactly alone.
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Name: Cal Corbec
Age: 28
Gender: M
Looks: Stands just over 6ft tall. Is well built and muscular but only in the sense of someone who's worked hard all his life and not just some gym bunnie. Has short brown hair which is kept neat in a messy fashion. His fringe sticks out a little and there is the faint hint of grey around the temples. Has blue eyes and generally wears Jeans, casual boots and a black t-shirt. Only shaves when needed (if hes going somewhere) and so he sometimes has the makings of a beard before it annoys him and he gets rid of it etc.
Personality: A bit of a loner these days. Has the occaisional friend he talks to in town and is friendly enough with his customers. Likes to help where he can and make himself feel usefull without getting in peoples way. Is a very proud but lonely man and hates people feeling pity or accepting help from others. Hates feeling helpless.
Background: Was a military man for almost 8 years. Accheived the rank of Corporal, working primarily as a field mechanic before gaining his own command. His career was cut short however when his unit came under attack. He was working in the motor pool at the time when the garage caught an artillery shell. His body was riddled with shrapnel and although most was removed, and his life saved, he never regained full use of his leg due to shards still buried in the joint. As such he walks with a limp though refuses to use aides like crutches. Unable to keep pace for front line work he was given a position as head of the motor pool but feeling too much like it was sympathy for a lame soldier, turned down the position and retired from the army.
Ironically he realised his mechanic skills were still his best chance of making a living so used his retirement pay to buy and run a small garage.
Abilities: Standard Military training as well as experience in command of a unit. Skilled Marksman, tactician and Mechanic.
Other:
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Begins
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I yawned as i leaned back in my chair. The day had been slow. Only a couple of people turning in for fuel and the only repair job i had was already finished. It was long, boring days like this, when the mind had time to wander which were the worst. I got up, wincing slightly feeling the pain in my right knee and hearing the loud snapping pop of the joint as i straightened it and limped out onto the forecourt, locking the door behind me and heading to walk around the back.
The old place was looking a little ramshackle. The walls were dirty, the windows were cracked and the sun had stained the once white plastic signs around the pumps a yellowy brown shade. Of course it was the general state of the place which had meant it was so cheap. I had big plans for the place.
Turning the corner i approached the large fenced off section round the back of the main garage. It looked a little imposing, all wrought iron and barbed wire, your stereotypical junkyard but it was still home. A small house sat on the east of the yard. Just next to it, opposite the entracne gate was the workshop. Apparently this whole place had once been part of an airfield. Most of the land was now woodland, reseeded after the airfield was abandoned but my 'workshop' still remained. It was infact a small hanger. A maintenance bay for aircraft that i had converted to suit vehicles of a more 'downmarket' nature, such as the battered Pickup truck now waiting in the collection area. Everything to the west of the Hanger was just junk. 2 Football fields worth of Scrap metal, disused machinery and a few motor parts here or there. There were always a few usefull gems to be found but essentially worthless junk.
A breif flash caught my eye as i was about to close the workshop for the night and i looked out towards the source. It had come from the junkpile but there was nothing to see now. I looked back at the house, considering retrieving one of my old rifles before going to check it out.
"Its probably just kids" I grumbled, picking up a wrench instead, just incase.
I headed into the pile slowly. Using the cleared paths between different mounds of metal to make my way through.
"Who's there?" i asked, trying to sound authorative as i rounded a corner. As i did 5 heads each looked up to stare at me.
They were an odd bunch. They looked somehow out of place, and they didnt look like they were interested in stealing. Infact if anything they all just seemed confused.
"Who are you?" i asked as one approached. He stopped short seeing the wrench.
"T..t..temporal disturbance.." one of them managed to mutter behind him and he seemed to realise something before looking at me.
"When is this?" he asked.
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Ok thats the start. If anyone wants to take over. The year would be around 2063, place basically doesnt matter, ill leave that upto whoever jumpes in first with a location if/when we need one. Basically get yoursleves intro'd and we can have some action next time out