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Description
The Toa of the Earth.

Part One. Departure.

Derian slowly walked toward the strange cylinder that had crashed on Bara Magna a few hours ago. What is this thing? He wondered to himself. He wondered if he could lift it out of the earth, examine what is was, and see if it was at all like the thing that had appeared 3 painful years ago. But then remembered. The tragedy that had made him promise never to use his powers ever again. He fought back the pain and sadness that welled inside of him. Lairika, he thought staring at the very hands that had claimed her life:
His own.

How he hated himself. And more so, he hated those things that called themselves that accursed name. The name he had promised to seek vengeance upon, and when he did, toa code or not, he would kill him. He would kill the one who called himself:
The Director

******************************************************

3 years ago…

Black Widow HQ.

A pair of footsteps brought David Wetherbey a brief wave of fear. He of course knew who it was, being the unwilling chief scientist of the project codenamed "Black Widow," he knew most of what went on in the building. But that didn't make things any better. "WETHERBEY!" A voice roared. David cringed at the sound, knowing the Director was in a bad mood. And he loved to take his anger out on David.

"Y-y-yes sir?" He stuttered. The director stormed into the room and shouted in his face,

"WHY HAS THE SATTELITE NOT LAUNCHED YET?!?"

"W-well s-s-sir," he said
Fearfully, "T-there was an error in the t-trans-dimensional portal, we're f-f-fixing it as we s-speak."

The Director slowly regained his composure and said in a stern tone, "How long will it take?"
"A d-d-day sir, if we're careful."
The Director leaned in close and said in a threatening tone, "I made you chief scientist of this project so you could get the job done Wetherbey. Not make excuses." He slowly backed off and said,

"Don't make me regret my decision."

And with that, he left. David breathed a sigh of relief when he left, and got back to fixing the portal.
The next day...

"Satellite launch in T-minus 10, 9, 8,"

A voice over the PA said. David Wetherbey watched as the trans-dimensional portal powered up, and the satellite was prepped for teleportation. He jumped as a hand clapped on his shoulder. He turned, revealing the Director.

"Soon Wetherbey, very soon, we shall know what the next universe contains. Its
mysteries, wonders, and its creatures, what a glorious morning!"

Wetherbey nodded. And did not know what he could possibly expect in the next few hours.

Two hours later…
"Sir!"

A voice called out. The Director turned and said,

"What is it Wetherbey?"

"T-the satellite just started transmitting, sir!"

David Wetherbey responded. The Director pushed him out of the way to look at the screen.

"Look sir, there's gravitational traces around that planet, about the size of small moons, two of them, and there also a-a-appears to be water vapor trails, leading from one of the moons."

The Director stared intently at the planet. Green, with some oceans, it contained a slight resemblance to earth. But there was sand; it was visible where the green wasn't present.

"Are there any signs of life, besides the obvious greenery on the planet?"

"W-wait one, sir."

Minutes passed, with the Director growing more agitated all the while. Suddenly, a beep was heard from the scanner.

"S-s-sir, the signs of intelligent life are..." He trailed off as the results came in. "P-positive?"

The Director took a sharp intake of breath.

"But, there seems to be massive energy readings, coming from the beings on the planet."

The Director smiled grimly and said,

"Get those Marines the American president sent us. I want them to capture one of these creatures."

"S-sir, they don't even know why they're here."

"All the better,"

The director responded.

"But sir, d-don't you think that we should fill them in?"

The director turned to Wetherbey and said,

"The less they know the better."

The Director left the room, leaving a very shocked Wetherbey.

*****************************************************

"I don't like this, sarge,"

Said Lance Corporal Jason Masterson. Staff Sergeant Aaron Davis turned and said,

"What don't you like, besides the unfortunate lack of Denied Ops 7 to play? Is it complaining day? Nope. So what don't you like this time, Corporal?"

"The fact that we don't know what we're doing."

He looked around and said, "Do you thing the LT is keeping secrets from us? I mean yeah, we're the grunts and he's the illustrious leader, blah, blah, blah, but I expect some kind of idea of what we're about to risk our lives over! Again, I think he's hiding stuff from us!"

"No, he isn't," responded Second Lieutenant Catherine McLain, the squad Close Quarters Combat expert, and second in command. The two Marines stood and saluted.

"Ma'am didn't see you there." Said Davis.

"I know, sergeant. That's how I like to keep it."

Masterson shuddered; she was a spook all right. Then at that moment, First Lieutenant John Peters walked into the room and said, "Marines, we're moving out." Sergeant Davis turned and said, "When are we leaving, sir?" "Now," came the reply.

30 minutes later…

The platoon of marines marched in perfect synchronization. Peters listened with pride to the sound of 50 sets of feet hitting the floor at the same time as his did. To him, there was no better sound. They approached the office of the Director, none knowing what to expect.

"Platoon," Peters called," HALT!"

The platoon halted in front of the Director's office, with their lines perfectly maintained.

"Squad leaders, FALL OUT!" Peters shouted.

The squad leaders took a step back, turned around. And stepped to the side of the platoon. "Squad leaders, fall in on me! Four man front." The squad leaders obliged, forming a straight line of four in front of Peters.

"Foreword, MARCH!" They marched into the director's office, eyes foreword.

"Fire team, halt."

They stopped. Peters took two steps foreword and said, "Sir, you wanted to see us?" The Director spun in his chair to face Peters. He stared with devious eyes at them. After a while he said,

"Why do you think I called you here, in my office?"

"I presumed you wanted to brief us, being as we've been kept in the dark."

The director raised an eyebrow and said, "In the dark? Yes well, what I'm about to tell you is highly classified. It goes no further than this platoon. Understood?"

Yes sir," Peters replied. "Gentlemen, we've discovered an alien civilization. However, it's not in this dimension." The squad leaders looked shocked, but Peters was unfazed.
"So how are we supposed to reach it?"

The Director opened a window and said,

"With this."

There was a large metal ring, a halo, if you will, and four large spaceships that looked about large enough to hold 12 men.

"These, will be your modes of transportation. In it, you will travel to this civilization; retrieve one of their members for experimentation."

"Experimentation?!?" Sergeant Davis blurted out.

"Err; they are completely inorganic," The Director said, "Look."

He held out a picture. "This was taken from the satellite we launched into their world. See, it doesn't even have a real face."

One was red, with gold armor. Its face had two eyeholes, three slashes on each of the sides of it, a large hole where a mouth should be, and a slit at the forehead. Most curious of all was it's sword, it appeared to be made out of flame.

"You want us to capture this?" Peters asked.

"Not this specific one, but yes. Now hurry up Lieutenant, I have a schedule to keep."

"Yes sir," Peters responded.

And with that, they left, briefed their marines, who reacted with various levels of shock and disbelief, but they climbed into the shuttles all the same. A panel came online in Peters' shuttle. But it wasn't the Director who appeared on the panel's screen. Instead it was a man in a white lab coat, stark grey eyes, and a comb over hairstyle.

"Evening L-lieutenant," he stuttered with a thick British accent, "T-t-the name's D-David Wetherbey. I'm the chief s-scientist in the project. Let's cut to the chase, shall we? When you reach the alien planet, find an alien, two at most, and store them in the c-cell. Then you should be able to come back here for unloading. The shuttles are auto piloted so no worries about c-c-crashing."

Peters started to reply, but the screen went blank. All of a sudden, a rumbling was felt in the ground. A voice over the PA said, "Shuttle launch commencing in T-minus 10, 9, 9, 7..." Peters looked to the twelve other marines in the shuttle. He knew if he failed, he would lose the respect of his marines, something he could not afford. "3, 2, 1, GO!" There was a flash of light, and then nothing.

Description
The Toa of the Earth.

Part One. Departure.

Derian slowly walked toward the strange cylinder that had crashed on Bara Magna a few hours ago. What is this thing? He wondered to himself. He wondered if he could lift it out of the earth, examine what is was, and see if it was at all like the thing that had appeared 3 painful years ago. But then remembered. The tragedy that had made him promise never to use his powers ever again. He fought back the pain and sadness that welled inside of him. Lairika, he thought staring at the very hands that had claimed her life:
His own.

How he hated himself. And more so, he hated those things that called themselves that accursed name. The name he had promised to seek vengeance upon, and when he did, toa code or not, he would kill him. He would kill the one who called himself:
The Director

******************************************************

3 years ago…

Black Widow HQ.

A pair of footsteps brought David Wetherbey a brief wave of fear. He of course knew who it was, being the unwilling chief scientist of the project codenamed "Black Widow," he knew most of what went on in the building. But that didn't make things any better. "WETHERBEY!" A voice roared. David cringed at the sound, knowing the Director was in a bad mood. And he loved to take his anger out on David.

"Y-y-yes sir?" He stuttered. The director stormed into the room and shouted in his face,

"WHY HAS THE SATTELITE NOT LAUNCHED YET?!?"

"W-well s-s-sir," he said
Fearfully, "T-there was an error in the t-trans-dimensional portal, we're f-f-fixing it as we s-speak."

The Director slowly regained his composure and said in a stern tone, "How long will it take?"
"A d-d-day sir, if we're careful."
The Director leaned in close and said in a threatening tone, "I made you chief scientist of this project so you could get the job done Wetherbey. Not make excuses." He slowly backed off and said,

"Don't make me regret my decision."

And with that, he left. David breathed a sigh of relief when he left, and got back to fixing the portal.
The next day...

"Satellite launch in T-minus 10, 9, 8,"

A voice over the PA said. David Wetherbey watched as the trans-dimensional portal powered up, and the satellite was prepped for teleportation. He jumped as a hand clapped on his shoulder. He turned, revealing the Director.

"Soon Wetherbey, very soon, we shall know what the next universe contains. Its
mysteries, wonders, and its creatures, what a glorious morning!"

Wetherbey nodded. And did not know what he could possibly expect in the next few hours.

Two hours later…
"Sir!"

A voice called out. The Director turned and said,

"What is it Wetherbey?"

"T-the satellite just started transmitting, sir!"

David Wetherbey responded. The Director pushed him out of the way to look at the screen.

"Look sir, there's gravitational traces around that planet, about the size of small moons, two of them, and there also a-a-appears to be water vapor trails, leading from one of the moons."

The Director stared intently at the planet. Green, with some oceans, it contained a slight resemblance to earth. But there was sand; it was visible where the green wasn't present.

"Are there any signs of life, besides the obvious greenery on the planet?"

"W-wait one, sir."

Minutes passed, with the Director growing more agitated all the while. Suddenly, a beep was heard from the scanner.

"S-s-sir, the signs of intelligent life are..." He trailed off as the results came in. "P-positive?"

The Director took a sharp intake of breath.

"But, there seems to be massive energy readings, coming from the beings on the planet."

The Director smiled grimly and said,

"Get those Marines the American president sent us. I want them to capture one of these creatures."

"S-sir, they don't even know why they're here."

"All the better,"

The director responded.

"But sir, d-don't you think that we should fill them in?"

The director turned to Wetherbey and said,

"The less they know the better."

The Director left the room, leaving a very shocked Wetherbey.

*****************************************************

"I don't like this, sarge,"

Said Lance Corporal Jason Masterson. Staff Sergeant Aaron Davis turned and said,

"What don't you like, besides the unfortunate lack of Denied Ops 7 to play? Is it complaining day? Nope. So what don't you like this time, Corporal?"

"The fact that we don't know what we're doing."

He looked around and said, "Do you thing the LT is keeping secrets from us? I mean yeah, we're the grunts and he's the illustrious leader, blah, blah, blah, but I expect some kind of idea of what we're about to risk our lives over! Again, I think he's hiding stuff from us!"

"No, he isn't," responded Second Lieutenant Catherine McLain, the squad Close Quarters Combat expert, and second in command. The two Marines stood and saluted.

"Ma'am didn't see you there." Said Davis.

"I know, sergeant. That's how I like to keep it."

Masterson shuddered; she was a spook all right. Then at that moment, First Lieutenant John Peters walked into the room and said, "Marines, we're moving out." Sergeant Davis turned and said, "When are we leaving, sir?" "Now," came the reply.

30 minutes later…

The platoon of marines marched in perfect synchronization. Peters listened with pride to the sound of 50 sets of feet hitting the floor at the same time as his did. To him, there was no better sound. They approached the office of the Director, none knowing what to expect.

"Platoon," Peters called," HALT!"

The platoon halted in front of the Director's office, with their lines perfectly maintained.

"Squad leaders, FALL OUT!" Peters shouted.

The squad leaders took a step back, turned around. And stepped to the side of the platoon. "Squad leaders, fall in on me! Four man front." The squad leaders obliged, forming a straight line of four in front of Peters.

"Foreword, MARCH!" They marched into the director's office, eyes foreword.

"Fire team, halt."

They stopped. Peters took two steps foreword and said, "Sir, you wanted to see us?" The Director spun in his chair to face Peters. He stared with devious eyes at them. After a while he said,

"Why do you think I called you here, in my office?"

"I presumed you wanted to brief us, being as we've been kept in the dark."

The director raised an eyebrow and said, "In the dark? Yes well, what I'm about to tell you is highly classified. It goes no further than this platoon. Understood?"

Yes sir," Peters replied. "Gentlemen, we've discovered an alien civilization. However, it's not in this dimension." The squad leaders looked shocked, but Peters was unfazed.
"So how are we supposed to reach it?"

The Director opened a window and said,

"With this."

There was a large metal ring, a halo, if you will, and four large spaceships that looked about large enough to hold 12 men.

"These, will be your modes of transportation. In it, you will travel to this civilization; retrieve one of their members for experimentation."

"Experimentation?!?" Sergeant Davis blurted out.

"Err; they are completely inorganic," The Director said, "Look."

He held out a picture. "This was taken from the satellite we launched into their world. See, it doesn't even have a real face."

One was red, with gold armor. Its face had two eyeholes, three slashes on each of the sides of it, a large hole where a mouth should be, and a slit at the forehead. Most curious of all was it's sword, it appeared to be made out of flame.

"You want us to capture this?" Peters asked.

"Not this specific one, but yes. Now hurry up Lieutenant, I have a schedule to keep."

"Yes sir," Peters responded.

And with that, they left, briefed their marines, who reacted with various levels of shock and disbelief, but they climbed into the shuttles all the same. A panel came online in Peters' shuttle. But it wasn't the Director who appeared on the panel's screen. Instead it was a man in a white lab coat, stark grey eyes, and a comb over hairstyle.

"Evening L-lieutenant," he stuttered with a thick British accent, "T-t-the name's D-David Wetherbey. I'm the chief s-scientist in the project. Let's cut to the chase, shall we? When you reach the alien planet, find an alien, two at most, and store them in the c-cell. Then you should be able to come back here for unloading. The shuttles are auto piloted so no worries about c-c-crashing."

Peters started to reply, but the screen went blank. All of a sudden, a rumbling was felt in the ground. A voice over the PA said, "Shuttle launch commencing in T-minus 10, 9, 9, 7..." Peters looked to the twelve other marines in the shuttle. He knew if he failed, he would lose the respect of his marines, something he could not afford. "3, 2, 1, GO!" There was a flash of light, and then nothing.