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A DEADZONE CAMPAIGN THE FIGHT FOR SURVIVAL ON A DOOMED WORLD

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

A spacefaring traveller, The Survivor is the only known living being to have been infected by the Plague and survive a Containment Protocol. Since then he has had only one desire: to retrieve a piece of a Plague Artefact and try to synthesise a cure for himself. For The Survivor it is simply a race against time before the Alien Virus overcomes his biological defences and he succumbs to the infection - a race he cannot afford to lose.

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

Game Design

Additional SCENERY

Jake Thornton

Antenociti’s Workshop, Armorcast, Quantum Gothic, Rust Forge

ADDITIONAL MATERIAL Dave Boddy, Greg Smith, Guy Haley, James M Hewitt

Chris Webb

SPECIAL THANKS

Photography

Matt Gilbert

Ben Sandum

Internal Art

Painting

Heath Foley, Jonas Springborg, Kris Carter, Luigi Terzi, Roberto Cirillo

Chris Webb, Dave Neild, Golem Painting Studio, Matt Gilbert, Nick Williams, Paul Scott, Winterdyne Commission Modelling

Sculpting Ben Skinner,Bob Naismith,Dave Kidd, Derek Miller, Francesco Pizzo, Gregor Adrian, Grégory Clavilier, MKUltra Studio, Rémy Tremblay, Steve Eserin, Steve Saunders, Sylvain Quirion, Tim Prow 3 - NEXUS PSI (order #5652513) Matthew McDonald

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GRAPhic Design

RETURN TO NEXUS PSI Nexus Psi is a two-player campaign set on the colony of the same name. It is a desperate and unforgiving series of battles between the Plague and their enemies with the whole planet as the prize. These rules describe nine new scenarios for you to play through, together with the process of linking them together into a campaign. This builds on the campaign rules listed in the main rulebook and should be read in conjunction with them. During the campaign some of your models will be injured or killed, most will gain experience as they hone their battle skills, and all of them will have stories to tell. Their collective experiences form the heroic tale of your Strike Force as it struggles to fulfil its missions and take control of the planet from an unforgiving and relentless foe.

NEW RULES

THE FACTIONS

Abilities . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8

CSW . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 Indirect . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 Long Reload . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Non-combatant . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Vehicle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

Enforcers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 Corporations of Nexus Psi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Enforcer Ships . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34

Plague . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36

Clarifications . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

Rebs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40

THE CAMPAIGN

Marauders . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42

Getting Started . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Nexus Psi Rules Modifications ������������������������� 14 The Next Battle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14

CHAMPIONS OF NEXUS PSI

A. Intelligence Run . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 S1. Shattered Hopes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . S2. Bunker Hill . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . S3. Landing Zone . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . S4. Long Way Down . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . S5. Health Assurance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

17 19 20 22 23

X. Screaming Fans . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25 Y. Ambush . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26 Z.The Gauntlet . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28

Hostile Acquisitions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Recon Unit N32-19 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Doctor Simmonds . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Project Oberon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Nastanza . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Chovar Psychic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The Helfather . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The Survivor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Boomer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Blaine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Freya Oerlikon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

48 49 51 53 55 57 59 60 61 62 63

Nexus Psi Map . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64

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Where the more bestial Stage 1 and Stage 2 infected are the most outwardly imposing, it is arguably the Stage 3 that is to be most feared. Retaining their intelligence, if not their humanity, it is these creatures that form the tactical arm of the plague. As well as operating weapons and heavy equipment, they also act as forward scouts, searching for supplies, information and survivors that can be ‘recruited’.

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

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The Frontier

A World of Potential

The Galactic Co-Prosperity Sphere is a vast conglomerate of systems, held together by numerous agreements, licenses and treaties. The Core Worlds are the political and geographical centre of this huge web, but at its outer limits there is the Frontier, a region of space whose borders are forever expanding outwards as new worlds are colonised and settled.

Nexus Psi was picked up by a SanMar scout ship on a routine sweep of the Frontier, and was immediately categorised as Category D – suitable for immediate human occupation. It was a warm, wet world teeming with life, especially in the thick concentrations of equatorial jungle that rings the planet. Initial scans showed some the scattered remains of an ancient civilisation, but no signs of active sentient life. Most notably, it was one of the few Category D planets at the furthest reaches of the Frontier. In time, if it was correctly developed, it could become the hub for a brand new phase of expansion.

Unlike the technologically advanced worlds of the Core, where anything is possible providing you can pay for it, life on the Frontier isn’t easy. This is especially true on newly-discovered worlds. Once a planet has been scanned by scout ships and marked as suitable for incorporation, a small band of advance colonists and engineers will make their way there as part of an Exploration Fleet. Their job is to undertake the first stages of colonisation; terraforming, setting up basic outposts, and starting the mammoth task of cataloguing the planet’s indigenous life. As with many things in the GCPS, obtaining the rights to settle a new world is a minefield of contractual legislation. Every corporation wants to expand its territory, and the race to obtain the licence to an unspoiled world is always intense. Although only one corporation will be granted the licence, the fight is not over even once the decision is made; following expansion drives by corporations such as SanMar and McAelis, in which they licensed hundreds of planets at a time but left them undeveloped for decades, all licences now contain a mandatory break clause. Under this clause, a licence is not fully granted unless the colony conforms to certain benchmarks by a given timestamp. Should a corporation fail to meet these standards, the licence is reopened for bidding. This means that once a licence is obtained, every second is vital. As a result, Exploration Fleets consist entirely of small vessels equipped with McKinley Drives that let them traverse huge expanses of space in a relatively short time. These fleets make their way out from the closest available port as soon as the word is given by their parent Corporation, racing to reach the new planet and begin laying the foundations of a colony. Unfortunately, the McKinley Drive has several limitations – the most obvious one being the fact that it is only safe to use with ships no larger than a small hauler. To save on fuel costs, most Fleets transport everything in Shensig Interplanetary’s Habtainers – modular shipping containers which can be easily repurposed into almost any kind of building once they have been unpacked. This cuts out dead weight, allowing the advance party to take everything they need without incurring massive costs or waiting for slower bulk carriers to make their way to the Frontier. Of course, this also means that most Frontier colonies look the same: a cluster of low-lying buildings bearing the familiar design of a Shensig Habtainer.

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

Within seconds of the planet’s existence being advertised, a licence request was submitted by the Reiker Corporation. Reiker specialises in developing new worlds and leasing surface space to other developers, and has teams of operatives scouring the infosphere for news of potential sites. Its Acquisitions department was one of sixty-two applicants for the licence to Nexus Psi, including their long-time rivals at the Magani Corporation, but won out following a series of complex negotiations and a tense auction. Not even taking a moment to celebrate the victory, Reiker’s operations manager gave the word to launch their waiting Exploration Fleet. Everything was set to open up the latest in a string of Reiker conquests. Then, something unusual happened. The Council of Seven – the executive body that rules the GCPS in all but name – has the right to overturn any agreement made under Corporate law, and they exercised it to place an indefinite stay on the Nexus Psi licence. Reiker’s board of directors was furious; they had spent good money equipping and launching their fleet, and now they stood to lose it all. Of course, they knew better than to directly oppose an edict from the Council. Instead, their legal agents began work on one of the most complex cases of their careers, and after several weeks of preparation a carefully-worded appeal was made. After a period of consideration, it was partially granted. Reiker was given leave to continue with the colonisation, with the expectation that a full licence would eventually be granted, but it would be held by the Council for the time being. This was seen as a minor (but important) victory, as well as a suitable compromise, and the Exploration Fleet continued on its way. It wasn’t long before outposts were being set up across the planet’s surface.

Death of a Dream Across the Frontier, particularly the area of space known as the Death Arc, a series of alien Artefacts have been found. They can take many different forms: some are large, some are small; some display intricate carvings, while others feature complex mechanisms or appear to be made from an unclassifiable substance. They would be indistinguishable from any other xenoarchaeological relics if not for the fact that they

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share a unique energy signature. The Council offers large rewards to anyone who turns in a genuine specimen, but these have never been claimed due to the sentient virus that lays dormant within them. Nexus Psi had been colonised for almost two standard years when a team of geohistorians picked up the Artefact signature above a series of tunnels in the equatorial jungles near Outpost W4. The team called for backup to verify their findings, and an exploration / retrieval team was dispatched to excavate the source of the emissions. They came in force, taking every excavator and hauler available around W4. After five days of digging they unearthed their target. It was a stone slab, less than a metre across, covered in pictograms of unknown origin. The exp/ret team was returning their find to W4 when it activated, and unleashed its deadly virus. The first victims were the technicians driving the hauler on which it was being transported, with their colleagues in other vehicles falling in turn. The virus affected over half of the team, most of them dying in agony as it tore through their bodies. They were the lucky ones. The remainder, apparently chosen as suitable hosts to

The Artefact Conspiracy According to dissidents and activists across the GCPS, Corporation Central houses an entire datafarm of encrypted stacks containing records of every cover-up the Council has engineered. A secessionist agitator known only as “Guru” surfaced on several subnet forums not long before the Nexus Psi incident, claiming to have accessed the datafarm and cracked the encryption. He (or she?) claimed that in 81% of Containment Protocols, the planet or system in question was the site of an Artefact discovery. More intriguingly, the Council had already imposed a stay on licensing when the discovery was made – almost as though it knew what would be found, long before any humans had landed. This was derided as nonsense by most users, especially considering the lack of evidence, and “Guru” never surfaced again. Some saw this as proof that he was just a lonely kid trying to get people’s attention, while others assumed a darker significance behind his withdrawal. Nexus Psi’s disappearance from official records, following Reiker’s wellpublicised battle against a Council-imposed stay, was later championed as proof that he was more than an imaginative crackpot.

spread the infection, were mutated beyond recognition. These unfortunates were wracked with spasms as the virus rewrote their genetic code, remaking them in its awful image. When the transformation was complete, nothing remained of the scientists and technicians that had been; in their place stood hulking monsters, titanic slabs of muscle and bone that wasted no time in tearing apart the remains of the convoy. A handful of survivors escaped, making it back to the outpost and sending a distress signal to Corporation Central. The only response they received was dead air. Containment Protocol had already been enacted.

Desperate Measures When something as serious as a Plague outbreak takes place, quarantine is the only option. This is an action of last resort that can only be ordered by the Council of Seven itself, for its repercussions are immense and it can cost Corporations countless millions of credits. When a Containment Protocol is called, the planet in question (or sometimes even the whole surrounding system) is entirely cut off from outside contact. Planetary and interplanetary communications are jammed, and any ships in orbit or on the surface are grounded. The location is scrubbed from NavCorp records, rendering it almost impossible for any vessel to find it without resorting to illegal means, and published records will be altered to remove any reference to it. For all intents and purposes, it ceases to exist. It is testament to the invasive power of the Council that all of this is possible with a few commands given trillions of kilometres away. At the same time, a blockade fleet will move into place. While this is mostly made up of Enforcer patrol ships, Corporation military vessels can be pressed into service if necessary, although they won’t be given any more information than is absolutely necessary to prevent anything entering or leaving the planet’s atmosphere. While the administrative process of Containment Protocol is relatively simple, the reality on-world is horrific, especially on a developing world like Nexus Psi. Isolated outposts reliant on radio contact suddenly find themselves cut off from the rest of the world. Supply lines with nearby production systems are suddenly cut, leading to rapid shortages of essential resources. Most importantly, the planet’s inhabitants are stranded on the surface with whatever caused the quarantine. Nexus Psi was overrun by the Plague in a matter of days. From the equatorial jungle it spread like wildfire, with each creature mutated by the Artefact infecting dozens of colonists, who in turn acted as vectors to spread the infection to thousands of others. Pockets of resistance remained for some time, including Outpost W4, which organised a solid defence and only fell after nearly two weeks of driving back constant attacks by the infected. None of them lasted more than a month. In time, the planet fell silent.

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NEW RULES Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

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Faction Booster packs are a great way to upgrade your Strike Force in a way that suits your style of play. They contain a mixture of new miniatures and existing ones from the Faction Starter sets, letting you customise your collection and give your opponents some new challenges. The stat cards for all of these new miniatures can be found in the existing Faction Deck, but some of them use new abilities that weren’t printed in the Deadzone rulebook. This section includes those abilities, most of which let you add some heavy firepower – such as the Goblin Guntrack and TK-Zero Weapons team – to your games.

The two most popular Guntrack loadouts, the HEW Cannon and Heavy Mortar, are based off the same technology, both relying on autofissive fuel rods to generate low-yield neutron projectiles. The only real difference is in the delivery method – the HEW’s long barrel gives it greater range and penetrative power, while the Mortar utilises a lower muzzle velocity to lob shots over intervening terrain.

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CSW The card represents a Crew Served Weapon (CSW) team. The CSW ability includes Beast. A model with CSW behaves as if Beast was written on its stat card. Some weapons are just too big to be effectively used by a single trooper. Often these are carried by vehicles instead, but vehicles don’t get deployed on every mission. Inevitably someone will find a way to bring this kind of firepower to an infantry battle. CSWs come in a wide variety of types and the rules here apply to all of them. Regardless of their actual weapon type, CSWs all share common features such as bulky ammunition or power packs and heavy or cumbersome launchers, mounts, sights and so on. Extra crew can help carry the equipment, set up, load the weapon, and spot for the fall of shot – all very useful. A CSW will start a battle with two crew: a gunner and a loader. Both crew members (and the weapon if it is a separate model) are included on a single stat card and both crew are assumed to have identical stats. Treat each crew model separately for purposes of scatter by blast, aggression level, injuries and death (as appropriate). If the weapon is a separate model it cannot be targeted separately and will always scatter with the gunner. The points cost listed is for the whole CSW. Note that CSW teams retain a size of 2 even if one of the crew is killed or the models are separated. This reflects

the burden of additional and awkward equipment they always carry. A separate weapon model can be moved by the gunner as part of any action that takes him into a new cube. It does not take actions on its own and cannot be captured. If the crew are killed then the model is removed. Both crew models in a CSW are activated at the same time as if they were a single model. However, if you choose, they can move and select the action they take independently. It is unusual to do this because it makes their weapon less effective, though it may be needed in extreme circumstances. Only the CSW gunner can fire the weapon and to do so must either be modelled carrying it or be in base-tobase contact with it if it is a separate model. All ranges and LOS for the CSW’s main weapon are measured from the gunner model. If the loader is Pinned, Suppressed, dead or not in baseto-base contact with either the gunner or the weapon (if it is a separate model) then the CSW gets the Long Reload and Slow abilities. If the gunner has a Reload counter then it must remove that counter before it can fire, even if the loader has moved back into base contact. If the gunner is killed when the loader is in base-tobase contact with it then the loader will pick up the weapon instead and become the new gunner. If the weapon is modelled on the gunner figure then the most practical way to deal with this is to swap the positions of the two models and then remove the loader.

INDIRECT A weapon with this ability can be fired at the enemy in a new way. If the model has either the Vehicle or CSW rule then it is so large that it can only fire Indirectly and may not use either Shoot or Blaze Away. Models without Vehicle or CSW use Indirect as a new attack option as an alternative to Shoot or Blaze Away as appropriate. As normal, decide which form of attack you will make with the weapon before you roll any dice. The following rule changes and restrictions only apply if the weapon is used to make an Indirect attack.

Indirect fire takes a little while to set up as coordinates for the battlefield are entered, ranges determined and targets zeroed in. This only needs to be done once for each battle as the combat area is so small and subsequent shots can be easily corrected from the initial data. No weapon may be used to make an Indirect attack in that Strike Team’s first Turn. An Indirect weapon can be used to attack targets that the model cannot see. However, the Indirect weapon itself, its gunner (if it is a CSW ), and the target model must all be visible when viewed from directly above their cube. An Indirect attack cannot target anything that is under half the weapon’s listed Range. For example, a Range 6 weapon cannot target anything at a distance of 1-3 cubes when used to make an Indirect attack. Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

It was still raining. The outpost was already halfflooded but the heavens were in no hurry to let up. The sky was lit by another flash of lightning, and something heavy crashed over in the howling wind. It was as if the world itself knew how sick it was, and it was trying to flush the infection. The water tower swayed, support struts creaking in protest, and Rixon pushed down another wave of nausea. Thinking back to her training, she occupied her mind by checking the TK-Zero at her side. Sights seemed clear. Firing mechanism was clean. Despite the driving gale, no water had made it into the chamber. The makeshift shelter, little more than a tarp snaptacked to a pair of railings, was doing better than she’d hoped. She glanced over at Ygo. The big trooper was sat with his back to the tower, looking out across the outpost. If she didn’t know him so well she’d have thought he was calmly surveying for their target, but she’d worked with him long enough to notice the pallor in his skin and the sweat beading on his brow. She almost cracked a joke about how she’d never have thought a Sphyr could get sea-sick, but she stopped herself. He was clearly enjoying their vantage point even less than she was. The wind calmed momentarily, and Rixon started. Over the sound of the rain she’d heard an engine; she was sure of it. The target was somewhere nearby. She sprang up into a crouch, hefting the launcher into a ready position. It was lighter than it looked, something that always surprised the rookies, and she was confident in her ability to track moving targets with the same ease as any rifleman. That’s why she was here, after all. Ygo moved up next to her. Like most of his kind his eyesight was remarkable, making him an exceptional spotter, but this weather would probably have slazzed with even Enforcer visuals. She wasn’t surprised when he took his scope from its pouch and scanned it across the scene below. A few moments later, the Sphyr lowered the device and pointed. Rixon followed the line of his gesture and saw the Guntrack. The heavy artillery pieces were little different to the Orx that employed them: brutal and efficient, utterly unkillable in a straight fight, and only vulnerable if you got the drop on them. This one was moving at a fair speed, its crew wrapped up against the harsh weather. Rixon gave a slight smile, raising the TK-Zero and sighting on the Guntrack’s exposed power core. She’d taken two down already since she arrived on-world, and she had every intention of doubling that number. At least. She held the weapon steady as Ygo slid a round into the chamber, giving a practiced nod when he touched her on the shoulder, and took a moment to steady herself as she tracked left to follow her target…

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An Indirect attack is inherently inaccurate and cannot Aim. Treat an Indirect attack as a Throw Grenade action.

Long Reload The weapon takes a longer time than usual between shots. After the weapon has been fired, mark it with a Reload counter. A weapon that is marked with a Reload counter cannot Shoot or Blaze Away or use an Indirect attack until it is removed. The model using this weapon may remove the Reload counter by spending a long action to do so.

NON-COMBATANT This model cannot or will not fight. They may not use any weapon and must choose to use Survive if engaged in a Fight.

Vehicle The model is a Vehicle. If the model comes with separate crew figures then you can choose to either attach them to the main chassis, or leave them loose so the main vehicle can be used as a wreck (or scenery in battles where it is not used in the Strike Team). They have no specific game function beyond looking good and showing that the Vehicle is still in the battle.

For example, a successful AP 2 attack hits an Armour 3 Vehicle (4) with a potential damage of 3. The AP reduces the effective Armour to 1 which is subtracted from the potential damage as normal. The remaining damage is 2 which would normally kill a model. However, because the target is a Vehicle it suffers 2 damage instead. As a Vehicle (4) is only destroyed when it suffers a total of 4 damage, this means that it can continue to move and fight until it suffers two more. You can use Injured counters to help keep track cumulative vehicle damage as you would for other models.

Vehicles are large and cumbersome so cannot move about the battlefield with the same ease as smaller models. A Vehicle can only change level by moving up or down a ramp. They may not climb up or down walls. This means that a Vehicle cannot usually use the Climb action, though the final limitation will be based on how you have built your terrain. A Vehicle is not affected by the movement portion of attacks such as Knockback, Blasts or Frags of any type or size. It cannot be moved into another cube by an attack. However, it still suffers damage from these types of attack as normal. When a Vehicle is destroyed it is left in place on the battlefield. It is now treated as part of the battlefield’s terrain and makes that cube count as cover. For the sake of appearance you might like to remove any crew models and add a small piece of cotton wool to look like a smoking wreck.

The Vehicle ability includes Construct and Beast. A Vehicle model behaves as if Construct and Beast was written on its stat card.

Vehicles are listed with a number in brackets, eg Vehicle (4). This is a reflection of how much punishment they can take before they are destroyed. Vehicles take damage as normal with the exception that they are not automatically “killed” when they suffer 2 or more points of damage. Instead, they suffer the amount of damage caused by each attack after armour and so on has been factored in as normal (see page 34 of the main rulebook). Vehicles accumulate damage until they reach the total listed in brackets, at which point they are destroyed. So, the Vehicle (4) mentioned above would be destroyed if it took a total of 4 or more damage, either in a single attack or as the cumulative result of several hits.

Clarifications A couple of points have come up since the game has been released. 1)

When setting up your Strike Team at the start of a game, you cannot place a model in a cube that it could not normally move into.

2)

Medi-Packs and the Medic ability may not be used on models with either the Construct or Vehicle abilities.

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THE CAMPAIGN Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

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The Nexus Psi campaign is designed as a two-player campaign. This means that the experience of playing it will be different from a campaign with many different commanders, even though it shares most of the same campaign rules. The main difference is not a rule as such, but a likely outcome: intensity. This can make for long sessions where you are able to immerse yourselves in the world and your force, fighting through several battles in a single sitting. “Just one more scenario” is a common cause of late nights. With only one enemy to fight against, you learn their tricks and ways to trick them in return. Your Strike Force will evolve to fight against them specifically, and in any future games you will be able to draw on a deep pool of experience in dealing with that particular foe. It’s a great way to learn how to fight a specific enemy. Unlike most Deadzone games that aren’t focussed on holding ground, the Nexus Psi campaign is about eradicating, or spreading, the Plague within a fixed territory. For this reason, many of the battles are about taking control of particular Strategic Locations – important concentrations of population or resources. Only when one player controls all of these will the Plague have been cleansed, or the planet lost. Overall, a two-player campaign such as Nexus Psi is a very different experience from the ever-changing free-for-all that is a normal campaign as described in the main rules.

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Getting Started

Strategic Locations

The first thing to do is decide who is going to play in the campaign and which side they will take.

The Nexus Psi campaign is a struggle to claim or reclaim the planet. This is represented by defining key positions as Strategic Locations. The success of each Strike Force is determined by the number of Strategic Locations they control.

One player must take the Plague. After all, it’s not much of an outbreak if they don’t turn up. The other player can take any faction they like, except the Plague. Both players choose their Strike Forces as defined in the campaign rules in the main rulebook.

The Scenarios The campaign is made up of 9 scenarios: A. Intelligence Run S1. S2. S3. S4. S5.

Shattered Hopes Bunker Hill Landing Zone Long Way Down Health Assurance

X. Screaming Fans Y. Ambush! Z. The Gauntlet Each scenario includes: • A map of the battlefield with specific set up requirements. • The size of Strike Team each side can deploy plus any restrictions there might be on them. • Deployment areas for the Strike Teams. • Any special rules. • Victory conditions. • Aftermath.

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

Scenarios S1–S5 are each battles for control of one of these Strategic Locations. Other scenarios do not affect the outcome of the campaign as a whole, though they may be a great help to your Strike Team, or a problem for your opponent’s. The Plague start the campaign in control of all five Strategic Locations. If they lose a scenario (numbered S1–S5) then they lose control of that Location. Page 63 of this book includes a campaign map of the five Strategic Locations. You can mark which side controls them with spare models, counters or coloured dice.

Winning The Campaign Start the campaign with scenario A and keep track of how many battles you have fought. At the end of the sixth battle, and after every subsequent battle, check to see if either side has won. Victory in the campaign then goes to the first side to control all five Strategic Locations at once. This forces the Plague’s opponent to act aggressively to take some ground as the Plague will win by default if they don’t make headway. Note that this campaign can take quite a few battles to resolve, though the exact number depends on the player’s choices and how evenly matched they are in skill. If you want to play a shorter campaign then all you need to do is remove one or two of scenarios S1–S5 and play for control of less than five Strategic Locations.

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Nexus Psi Rule Modifications All scenarios in the Nexus Psi campaign use the following new rules - unless stated otherwise the normal campaign and set-up rules are followed as per the main rule book. If these do not modify the normal campaign rules then there is no change.

Starting The Campaign The campaign starts with the Plague as the defender in scenario A.

Attacker And Defender In every scenario one player will be the attacker and the other the defender. The player that chose the scenario to be fought is always the attacker

Battlefield

The example on top shows ideal terrain placement. The The defender lays out the scenery for each battle second example includes a 3 cube x 3 cube empty area within the restrictions given in the scenario. To give (marked in red) which may lead to horrific bloodbaths. yourself an interesting and varied layout, you should start each scenario by setting up your scenery over the Finally, the defender should make the minimum number whole battlefield. Aim for a combination of something of changes necessary to integrate the scenario specific that looks both believable and interesting to play on. scenery into the rest of the board and to give you an However, before you get started, check to see if there interesting and good-looking battlefield to fight over. are any scenario specific scenery elements and put these to one side for later. Unless a scenario specifically Intel items generally do nothing in these scenarios as VPs are not used. However, they should be left in calls for a larger open area, do not leave any 3 cube x the counter mix unless the scenario says otherwise. 3 cube areas of the lowest level completely empty of They still help to tell an interesting story, provide an buildings. This is a minimum requirement, and you will usually find that more densely packed terrain makes for opportunity for booby traps, and give more variation to the possible value of items. a better-balanced and more entertaining game. Once the defender has finished setting up the scenery, the attacker chooses which way round the board goes. This indicates which edge will be at the bottom of the scenario map and therefore where the deployment zones, objectives, etc will be relative to the scenery. You may find it convenient to rotate the board accordingly. On top of this general layout you will need to place objectives, items and any scenario specific scenery elements that you put aside earlier. Add these at the end, once you know which way up the board goes.

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When you refight a scenario you do not need to worry about making the layout identical to a previous version of that battlefield. In reality, each Strategic Location covers a far larger area than can be shown on a single Deadzone battlefield. Each time you play the scenario you are likely to be focussing on a slightly different section of the location as strategic deployments of defenders shift, routes of advance are compromised or the latest intel identifies new weaknesses. Just follow the rules listed in each scenario and you’ll get the flavour of each area, which is the important thing.

SCENARIO SPECIAL RULES There are several scenario special rules that may apply to the scenario. These include: Man The Barricades! This rule applies to some scenarios and modifies the process of setting up the battlefield and choosing the defending Strike Team. Other than cover cubes that are “inside” buildings (see page 37 of the main rulebook) there are no cover cubes unless they are bought by the defender. Each cube worth of cover costs 3 points from the Strike Team’s points allocation. The defender can spend up to half their Strike Team’s points on buying cover. The defender places the models to mark cover cubes along with the rest of the scenery when setting up the battlefield, before the attacker chooses the orientation (ie, his route of advance).

In addition to any specific victory conditions, all scenarios can be ended by one side choosing to abort. Aborting a mission works differently in this campaign. You may only choose to abort a mission at the end of a Round, and no earlier than the end of the third Round of the scenario. If you choose to abort a campaign mission then you simply give up and withdraw, leaving the enemy in control of the battlefield. The scenario ends and the Strike Team that aborted the mission automatically loses the scenario. At the end of a Round, the attacker must decide whether or not they will abort the mission before the defender. Gamers are often inclined to fight to the last man, and this is particularly true in one-off battles. In campaigns, where models gain experience and have a life beyond the immediate battle, it can sometimes be best to cut your losses and retreat before you lose a lot of good men. Balancing when to retire gracefully and when to make one last push is something that you will only learn with practice.

After The Battle A Cunning Plan. This rule applies to some scenarios and modifies the process of setting up the battlefield. Instead of placing objectives at random as normal, the attacker places them on the positions marked on the map only after he has looked at each counter. The attacker can chose which objective counter goes in each position. In this way he will know which is which and the defender will not. After the battlefield has been completely set up, but before either side has deployed, the attacker secretly writes down which objective will be his goal for the battle (X, Y or Z).

Apart from the Reputation rewards explained above, use the normal campaign rules on page 52-55 of the main rulebook unless the scenario you have just played says otherwise.

The Next Battle The winner of a battle has the strategic initiative and must choose the next scenario to be fought from those currently available to them in the campaign. The same player that chooses the scenario to be played is also the attacker for that battle. Most scenarios can be fought more than once. However, there are some restrictions: • Scenario A: always available.

Other scenario special rules are noted on the applicable scenario’s page.

• Scenarios S1–S5: may only be chosen if you do not currently control the corresponding Strategic Location.

Deployment And First Turn

• Scenario X: may only be chosen once during the campaign, and may not be chosen by the Plague player.

This process has been changed slightly for this campaign. Use the normal deployment rules for the sequence of model placement, with the defender counting as starting player (even though they will not take the first Turn). The attacker always takes the first Turn. This slight change shows the more aggressive nature of these scenarios.

Missions Normal mission cards are not used. Instead, each scenario lists its own victory conditions and Reputation rewards for winner and loser. These Reputation rewards replace the first three situations listed on page 52 of the main rulebook. If you included a Mercenary in your Strike Team then this reward is modified by -3 as usual.

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• Scenario Y: may only be chosen once during the campaign, and may not be chosen by the Plague player. • Scenario Z: may only be chosen once during the campaign, and may only be chosen by the Plague player. In addition, scenarios Y and Z are special cases. They are chosen by the losing player from the previous scenario, not the winner. Each player has one of these special scenarios to call on to try and turn the tide of battle. Each gives an advantage to the side that calls it. The loser simply declares that they will play one of these instead of the winner’s choice and that becomes the next battle to be fought. As these scenarios are only playable once each, when you choose to use them is very important. NEXUS PSI - 17

SCENARIO

A

INTELLIGENCE RUN

“Forewarned is forearmed.” The motto of the GCPS Intelligence Agency is an ancient proverb, but it is as relevant in modern warzones as it was on Old Earth. Knowing your enemy’s movements before they know yours can be the difference between victory and defeat. The force commanders on Nexus Psi take every opportunity to gather intelligence on their enemies, knowing that any scrap of information can make a vital difference to their ongoing mission.

seT Up

Scenario Special Rules

There are no special scenery requirements for this scenario.

Intel Gathering. The intel counter is not removed when it is found and is not worth a VP. Instead it must be carried off the battlefield by one of your models from a cube in your own deployment zone. In all other respects the intel behaves as a normal item counter and can be dropped, passed to another model, etc.

Use the normal game rules for determining deployment zones. Objectives are not needed in Intelligence Run. Items use a different set up to normal, though you still use the set of 16 counters with the crate on the back. Remove the “?” counter and put it back in the box. Take the intel counter and place it face down to one side. Shuffle the remaining 14 item counters and draw 7 at random. Place these with the intel counter and mix them all together so that you have 8 random counters including the intel. Starting with the defender, take turns placing these face down in the grey central zone, one at a time, on any level. Place no more than one item per cube.

Available Forces Both attacker and defender have 50 point Strike Teams. Other than the restricted points, these are chosen using the normal rules.

Victory Conditions When a model carries the intel off the battlefield then the game ends immediately. The Strike Team that carried the intel off is the winner. If one side aborts the mission then the other side is the winner. If the game ends in any other circumstances then both sides count as losing the battle and this scenario is played again as the next battle with roles of attacker and defender reversed.

Aftermath For a short time the winner has much better intel than their enemy. The loser must show the winner the composition of his Strike Team for the next battle before the winner chooses theirs. This only applies for the immediately following battle, but the winner (usually) gets to choose this too so the combination can be used to great effect. The winner gains 8 Reputation, the loser gains 4.

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SCENARIO

S1

SHATTERED HOPES

Although Nexus Psi was a relatively new colony, it had been established long enough for several decent-sized settlements such as Outpost 504K to spring up. “The Soak” now stands silent, but amid the dead ad-splays there are still analogue billboards proudly displaying corporate slogans and smiling mascots, and hand-painted signs marking out independent start-ups that were doomed even before the infection hit. Such outposts are always popular targets for strike forces looking to resupply. The makeshift barricades that still stand from the initial outbreak, now bullet-ridden and draped with festering corpses, are often pressed into use when rival factions converge on the same location.

SET UP

Available Forces A normal 70 point Strike Team for the attacker and 50 points for the defender.

Scenario Special Rules Man the Barricades!, A Cunning Plan (see page 15).

Victory Conditions If, at the end of any Round, the attacker controls the objective they secretly wrote down before the game began then they are the winner. If one Strike Team is wiped out or aborts the mission then they lose.

Aftermath Use the deployment zones shown on the map. Attacker is shown in blue, defender in red and the neutral zone in grey. The three objective cubes in the central grey area should be inside buildings.

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

The winner controls the S1 Strategic Location. As long as he retains control he may add 10 points to the maximum he is allowed to spend on his Strike Team in any scenario. This bonus is cumulative if he controls more than one Strategic Location. The winner gains 12 Reputation, the loser gains 6.

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The rotating dials of the horolog seemed to show the impossible. It felt like an age had passed, but she had been on-world for just under nine spins. Freya snapped down the cover of her vambrace and swore effusively.

The sweeper in her vambrace gave a low ping, vibrating against the inside of her wrist. She lifted the cover and adjusted the play. A trace gathered info focus on the tiny screen. Then another. And another.

The first night had been the hardest, with a ruptured drive core and waves of the heintj closing in to investigate the crash site. She’d had to choose between ditching her cargo and saving her skin, and the decision to flee hadn’t come easy. She had a reputation to maintain, after all. The core detonation had taken care of the creatures, which was something, but now she was stuck on a quarantined world without a means of escape.

One of the crew – was it Zarnoz, or Zerez? – gave a cry of alarm. Freya turned on the spot, seeing that the Zee had a sweeper unit of his own. Fillon, the crew’s commander, peered down from the squat roof, her rifle cradled casually in one arm. The scavenger looked up at her.

At least she wasn’t alone any more. She’d run into a rebel crew two spins back as they were backing out of a fight with a group of bugam, and she’d offered her services as a guide without a second thought. It was something she was more than prepared for; she’d reviewed the planet’s geography as a matter of course, committing it to memory as best she could, and had salvaged her charts from the Firesteel before it had gone up. Now, having led her new allies to a hilltop bunker that was somehow still standing, she was trying to figure out her next step while they busied themselves with looting anything that wasn’t nailed down.

“South perimeter!” The call came from Belwin. “Infected!”

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“Eleven clear hits incoming. No, twelve!” His voice was shrill with panic.

Freya wasted no time, drawing her sidearm and dragging a crate into position to act as cover. The Zees followed suit. Fillon’s voice rang out from up above. “Get into cover! I want weapons live and firing as soon as you see them. We’re sitting on all the ammo we need, so no need to be shy. This bunker’s ours. I don’t intend on giving it up any time soon!” The first creature crested the hill, and Freya wondered why she’d ever left the military.

SCENARIO

S2

BUNKER HILL

One of the many dangers facing Frontier settlers is the ever-present threat of attack. Millions of kilometres from the nearest Enforcer patrol, colonies can suddenly find themselves targeted by rebels and alien raiders. This is an unavoidable peril of life on the Frontier, and colonists do what they can to prepare against them. Survival shelters and armoured redoubts were built to give civilians shelter during these attacks, stockpiled with supplies and military-grade hardware. In most cases the Plague struck too quickly them to be used, and now they are sought after by the many strike forces that battle across Nexus Psi.

SET UP

Victory Conditions If, at the end of any Round, the attacker has captured two or more cubes of the bunker then they are the winner. If one Strike Team is wiped out or aborts the mission then they lose.

Aftermath The winner controls the S2 Strategic Location. As long as he retains control he may add 5 points to the maximum he is allowed to spend on his Strike Team in any scenario. This bonus is cumulative if he controls more than one Strategic Location. In addition, the Strike Force that controls Bunker Hill may buy items of equipment between battles for 1 point less per item (to a minimum cost of 1 point each). The winner gains 12 Reputation, the loser gains 6.

Use the deployment zones shown on the map. Attacker is shown in blue, defender in red and the neutral zone in grey. The grey area is a single, 2-level bunker with a roof (occupying a total of 12 cubes). Objective counters are not used in this scenario.

Available Forces A normal 70 point Strike Team for the attacker and 50 points for the defender.

Scenario Special Rules Man The Barricades! Bombardment. After deployment but before the first Turn, supporting forces drop a lightning barrage of 3 rounds on the defences in an effort to soften them up. The attacker chooses three different cubes to be the target of long range, Indirect, Massive Frag attacks. These attacks are resolved at a value of 5+.

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SCENARIO

S3 SET UP

LANDING ZONE

Like most newly-colonised worlds, Nexus Psi has only one major star port, at Reiker City. Instead, most outposts have tertiary-scale landing pads that can handle minor drops and outbound pickups. These are usually bulk-produced by Almar Incorporated to be compatible with their fleets of cargo boats, then offered free of charge to Frontier colonies as part of a standard logistics deal. Post-outbreak, the remaining landing pads are vital strategic locations. While registered ships have had their launch codes stripped, smaller suborbital craft can still use the pads to make secure landings and redeploy troops across the surface of Nexus Psi. Use the deployment zones shown on the map. Attacker is shown in blue, defender in red and the neutral zone in grey. The grey area (plus the central cube marked in blue) is a single, 2-level landing pad. The top level of the landing pad must be clear of cover and other obstacles (so it is clear to use for landing). In addition, there must be at least one attached tower, stairs or ramp in an adjacent cube to allow for easy access. The attacker may only place model from his Inserted force (see below) in the deployment zone on the landing pad itself, and only on the top level. The remainder of his models must deploy in the larger of the two blue zones. The defender must split his Strike Force into X, Y and Z groups before he places any of them. He can divide them in any way as long as each part contains at least one model. The deployment zone that each of these groups may deploy in is determined by placing a random objective counter in each of the three red deployment zones. Only the group with the matching letter may set up in each deployment zone. After deployment, remove the objective markers. They are not used for their normal function in this scenario.

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Available Forces

Victory Conditions

A normal 70 point Strike Team for each side. In addition, the attacker may choose 20 points of models to Insert. These models can be freely chosen from his Strike Force and ignore the normal limitations of type. Additional points allowed to the attacker for control of other Strategic Locations may not be added to the Inserted group.

Starting at the end of Round 3, check for victory at the end of each Round. If one side has the only models on the top level of the landing pad then they are the winner. Only consider the 3x3 area shown on the map, not any attached towers, stairs, ramps, etc. Also, ignore the lower levels of the landing pad. If one side controls the top then they can bring in reinforcements and easily push out any remaining opposition.

Scenario Special Rules

If one Strike Team is wiped out or aborts the mission then they lose.

Man The Barricades! Note that cover may not be placed on the top level of the landing pad. Insert. Before the first Turn, a small group of attackers was inserted onto the landing pad itself. They may have jumped, fast-roped, glided or descended by low-grav chutes from a hovering vehicle. However they got into position, their arrival signals the start of the attack. The inserted group cannot include any models with a size of 3 or 4, nor may it include any Vehicles. Other than that, the only restriction is the points limitation listed above. At the end of the battle, any surviving model of the Inserted group gets an additional point of experience.

Aftermath The winner controls the S3 Strategic Location. As long as he retains control he may add 5 points to the maximum he is allowed to spend on his Strike Team in any scenario. This bonus is cumulative if he controls more than one Strategic Location. In addition, the Strike Force that controls the Almar Landing Zone may position one additional model in each battle as if that model had Scout. This model does not gain the ability, permanently, merely being placed as if they had it as long as their Strike Force controls this Strategic Location’s easy access to transports and air support. The winner gains 12 Reputation, the loser gains 6.

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

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SCENARIO

S4

LONG WAY DOWN

When Nexus Psi scored highly on initial scans to reveal its natural resources, several mining corporations stepped forward to offer their services to whoever won the licensing bid. Thanks to several days of pre-negotiation, Reiker was able to offer the contract to Mi-Gan the moment they were granted a license. A fleet of drop-rigs was dispatched immediately. These monolithic creations, designed to be compatible with Shensig’s habtainer range, tower above the forest canopies and mountain ranges, drilling down via armour-plated shafts that bypass the surface entirely. These vast, abandoned machines offer access to valuable resources for any that can capture them.

SET UP

Available Forces

There are no special scenery requirements for this scenario in terms of buildings. However, the battlefield represents something very different from usual.

A normal 70 point Strike Team for both sides.

This battle is fought among the gantries and walkways of the underside of a large mining rig. Between the grid of the walkway, and through the railings, you can see the long drop to the planet’s surface below. Lay out the battlefield with a raised series of walkways (of any width) connecting as much as possible in a lattice. Leave gaps between them. This could include stairs, ramps and other means of getting up and down levels as well as “buildings”. The underside of the rig is a large and complex place. However, this whole battlefield is suspended high in the air, so assume that the battle mat itself represents a fatal drop rather than the ground. Use the normal game rules for determining deployment zones and placing objectives. All items and objectives must be on walkways, not on the gaps between them.

Scenario Special Rules Man The Barricades! Underbelly. Because the underside of a rig is an awkward and difficult place to get to, no Vehicles are allowed in either Strike Team. Also, as it has a solid roof (the floor of the rig above), Indirect fire is not allowed. Falling off the rig’s walkways is invariably fatal and nobody will risk trying to find the corpse. Anyone falling off is permanently removed from the Strike Force’s roster. You cannot get the medics to treat a body you don’t have.

Victory Conditions If, at the end of any Round, one side controls two of the three objectives then they are the winner. If one Strike Team is wiped out or aborts the mission then they lose. If the game times out then the defender wins.

Aftermath The winner controls the S4 Strategic Location. As long as he retains control he may add 5 points to the maximum he is allowed to spend on his Strike Team in any scenario. This bonus is cumulative if he controls more than one Strategic Location. If any model(s) from either side fall off the walkways to their deaths, all models that survive this battle from either side gain one additional point of experience. The winner gains 14 Reputation, the loser gains 7.

Setting up this battlefield can be quite scenery intensive. One way to reduce the number of pieces you need is not to raise the walkways off the mat. You must still assume that the mat itself represents a long drop onto the surface, but it will save a number of scenery pieces and allow you to make more connections.

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SCENARIO

S5

HEALTH ASSURANCE

Mazon Labs has medical outposts set up across of Nexus Psi, but their primary location is the Deepwater Medicentre. It was a fully-stocked alpha care centre, catering to serious illnesses and injuries from anywhere on-world. It still stands, battered by the Plague but not destroyed outright, most of its plentiful medical resources still salvageable by a team with the right know-how. From a military standpoint it is one of the most important strategic objectives on Nexus Psi; field treatments and first aid are nothing compared to what Deepwater can offer.

SET Up

Set up items as normal. In addition, place 4 of the round item counters at random as well. Regardless of what the counter art is on these last items, assume they are all medi-packs.

Available Forces A normal 70 point Strike Team for the attacker and 50 points for the defender.

Scenario Special Rules Man The Barricades!

Victory Conditions If, at the end of any Round, the attacker has captured all three objectives then they are the winner. If one Strike Team is wiped out or aborts the mission then they lose. Use the deployment zones shown on the map. Attacker is shown in blue, defender in red and the neutral zones in grey.

Aftermath

The grey areas can be represented by separate buildings or by areas within buildings (operating theatres, data offices, etc) as you choose. A least part of the grey areas should be multi-level.

In addition, the Strike Force that controls the Deepwater Medicentre may roll 2 dice instead of 1 for each model that is resurrected. Choose the result you prefer.

The winner controls the S5 Strategic Location.

The winner gains 12 Reputation, the loser gains 6.

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

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DREADBALL GUARD

RCERS

DREADBALL JACK

WORKS FOR: ANYONE EXCEPT ENFORCERS

DREADBALL STRIKER

WORKS FOR: ANYONE EXCEPT ENFORCERS

OVERWATCH: MOVE

OVERWATCH:

MOVE

OVERWATCH: MOVE

ABILITIES: BRAWLER, RESOURCEFUL

ABILITIES:

FAST, RESOURCEFUL

ABILITIES: FAST, RESOURCEFUL

WEAPONS AND EQUIPMENT:

WEAPONS AND EQUIPMENT: • DREADBALL GLOVE: RANGE 3, ONE-USE, KNOCKBACK

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WEAPONS AND EQUIPMENT: • DREADBALL GLOVE: RANGE 3, ONE-USE, KNOCKBACK

SCENARIO

X

SCREAMING FANS

The Red Forest Arena is the most remote DreadBall stadium in the entire GCPS. It was ordered as a personal project by Tavis Carver, a legendary DreadBall fan with his own private arena-side box at the Co-Prosperity Park Arena, who did not want to miss his favourite sport while overseeing the first stages of Reiker City’s construction. Containment Protocol be damned; the DGB is unwilling to let its superstar players die far away from their adoring fans, and will pay handsomely for their rescue and extraction.

SET UP

Rescue. When an attacking model reaches the cube containing an objective he may look at it as normal. If it is the objective at which the attacker declared the MVP was hiding then the model is placed on the table and marked as activated for this Round. Their aggression starts at Alert. Use any non-GIANT DreadBall MVP you have available. Their Deadzone stats depend on their role: The MVP is happy to see his rescuers, though that doesn’t make them any more pleased about being in the middle of a battle. The MVP is treated as part of the attacking Strike Team for the remainder of the battle. If a defending model locates the MVP first then they are placed on the board as described above and must immediately Fight the enemy model that moved into that cube.

Victory Conditions

Use the deployment zones shown on the map. Attacker is shown in blue, defender in red and the neutral zones in grey. The green area of the map is the edge of a DreadBall pitch and so is flat and open. No items or models can be placed or deployed in this area at the start of the game. The rest of the board represents the seating, changing rooms, concession stalls and myriad other behind the scenes rooms that serve the teams and the sports loving public.

When the MVP has exited the board or has been killed then the game ends. If the MVP is dead then the defenders win. If the MVP exits the board via a cube in the attacker’s deployment zone then the attackers win.

Aftermath If the attacker wins then every member of the Strike Team gets an autographed DreadBall and a lifetime pass to the MVP’s home arena. As well as that, they each get one additional point of experience. The winner gains 12 Reputation, the loser gains 6.

Before the battle starts, the attacker must state out loud which objective the MVP is hiding at (see Rescue, below). Note that the placement of the objective counters is still random.

Available Forces A normal 70 point Strike Team.

Scenario Special Rules Inside. The battlefield is all inside a DreadBall arena complex. Indirect attacks may not be used in this scenario.

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SCENARIO

Y

AMBUSH!

It was always going to be tough to wrest control of Nexus Psi from the Plague, but it’s Nexus Psi is lost to the Plague. Packs of infected roam the streets of every outpost and stalk the plains and forests. If you ever thought you stood a chance of wresting the world from their clutches, you now know that hope to be futile. However, there is still a chance. If you can take back a handful of key strategic locations, your mission here could still be accomplished. You could still even the odds. You will need to strike quickly if you wish to catch your enemy with their guard down…

SET UP

Victory Conditions When there are no more defending models left alive on the board then the game ends. Unless the attacker aborts the mission or is wiped out then they win this scenario.

Aftermath Each of the surviving defending models get one additional experience. The winner gains 12 Reputation, the loser gains 6.

Use the deployment zones shown on the map. Attacker is shown in blue, defender in red. Objectives are not used in Ambush!

Available Forces The defender has a normal 70 point Strike Team. The attacker may use 100 points and ignores the normal limitations on model type. If the total Strike Force is under 100 points then it is immediately expanded to this level with fresh recruits as per campaign step 9. At least one attacking model must be placed in each of the deployment zones.

Scenario Special Rules It’s A Trap! The defenders realise it’s a trap a moment too late. They must try to slip away as quickly as possible and can leave the board along any edge marked in red. Different models can escape across different edges. Their scattered forces will rally later.

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Nothing exhibits the pragmatism of the Marauders more than the Mawbeast Bomber. Noting the tendency of enemy to gun down the creatures as they closed in for the kill, they saw the potential for a new weapon. Strapped with compact loads of high explosives, these enthusiastic - if short lived - creatures have been the downfall of many an otherwise secure outpost. Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

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SCENARIO

Z

THE GAUNTLET

The moment the Artefact was awoken, this world was lost. Nothing could stand in the way of the Plague and hope to survive. There are still pockets of resistance, but these are nothing more than the last, dying spasms of a creature too dull-witted to know that its end has come. However, your ambitions stretch beyond Nexus Psi, and there is one group of enemies that could almost stand to thwart your plans. This cannot be allowed. You will attack when they are at their least prepared and overwhelm them with your numbers and might. Their resistance ends here.

SET UP

Available Forces The defender has a normal 70 point Strike Team. The attacker may use 100 points and ignores the normal limitations on model type. If the total Strike Force is under 100 points then it is immediately expanded to this level with fresh recruits as per campaign step 9.

Scenario Special Rules It’s A Trap! The defenders realise it’s a trap a moment too late. They must try to slip away as quickly as possible and can leave the board along the edge marked in red.

Victory Conditions When there are no more defending models left alive on the board then the game ends. Unless the attacker aborts the mission or is wiped out then they win this scenario. Use the deployment zones shown on the map. Attacker is shown in blue, defender in red. The attacker cannot place a second model in a given cube until all cubes within his deployment zones have a model in. This forces his Strike Team to spread out.

Aftermath Each of the surviving defending models get one additional experience. The winner gains 12 Reputation, the loser gains 6.

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THE FACTIONS Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

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Within the GCPS there are hundreds, if not thousands, of military forces. As well as the private armies, security fleets and merc companies, there are the standing Corporate Armies. Each of these forces exists for the sole purpose of protecting their parent corporation’s interests, so it is no surprise that this can lead to clashes between rival forces when licensing agreements overlap, or when they both lay claim to a particular asset. They can also be called on to deal with threats from outside the GCPS, under direct edict from the Council of Seven. When territory debates get out of hand, or when corporate forces come up against something they can’t handle (such as when guerrilla fighters on Azure IX massacred the Gorsch corporation’s mining crews, or when the Arklyte Cluster erupted in open rebellion), the Council has at its disposal its own elite military force. For a long time, the Council simply used veteran soldiers recruited from the larger Corporate Armies. Unfortunately, most human troopers seemed to lack the stomach for some of the more clandestine operations that were required of them. They were gradually replaced with highly-trained squads of Orx following the Klandax Treaty, who combined brutal effectiveness with utter discretion. Though successful for a time, this was brought to a bloody end by the events of the Mandrake Rebellion. A new solution was required, and one was found in the Enforcers.

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The exact details of the origins of this elite military force are shrouded in mystery, known only to a select few outside the council. This knowledge is kept secret by these individuals on pain of extreme sanction. In any case, regardless of where they come from, the Enforcers are without a doubt the living embodiment of the Council’s will. In the field, Enforcers are disciplined and deadly. Their training allows them to detach themselves from the horrors of war, stripping away their humanity and leaving only a cold, relentless drive to complete their mission no matter the cost. Further to this, they eschew names in the field, instead referring to each other by serial numbers and squad codes. To the outside observer, each Enforcer looks identical, with very few armour variations or personal touches to mark them apart from their squad-mates. This is intentional; if the enemy cannot identify individuals, it is harder for him to ascertain their numbers.

Cutting-Edge Technology Enforcers are equipped with the best equipment that money can buy. Indeed, most of their kit is so specialised that nothing like it is available on the common market, even through illicit sources. Their armour is proof against most small arms fire and is power-assisted, granting Enforcers enhanced strength and speed. The ubiquitous helmet is designed to inspire

fear in the enemy, and a stylised graphic of it is used as a warning icon in Council-protected facilities across the GCPS. Proof against most hostile environments, including hard vacuum, the armour incorporates extensive rebreathing, recycling and medical technology, allowing its wearer to fight in virtually all situations. It also features high-end comms technology, geolocation beacons and countless other devices that grant the wearer autonomy in the field. Despite this wealth of onboard systems, the armour is light and manoeuvrable, a fact further enhanced by the lightweight jump pack that is mounted into every suit. This lets Enforcers overcome obstacles, perform high altitude combat drops in hotly contested landing zone, and redeploy from one area of a battlefield to another without relying on cumbersome transport vehicles. Each suit of armour also possesses a self-destruct mechanism, intended to keep the suit’s secrets from falling into enemy hands. Unless this is overridden by a superior officer, this function will activate within a few minutes of the wearer’s death, reducing both the armour and the Enforcer inside to a fine ash.

Tools of Destruction The standard weapon carried by Enforcer teams is the Genling 45 HLR-X, which is a modified version of the Heavy Laser Rifle used by some corporate military units. The 32 HLP-X acts as their standard sidearm, or in the case of Assault units, their primary ranged weapon. These troopers are also equipped with the Magnurba Wristblade, a nanomolecular edged weapon that extends from a housing on the Enforcer’s right forearm. Wristblades are closer in aspect to a sword than a knife, and are sharp enough to penetrate anything from carbon lattice to the thick hides of silicon-based life forms.

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

When the blades retract they are automatically cleaned and honed, making them remarkably durable and longlasting compared to conventional melee weaponry. Aside from variants of the Genling laser rifle, such as the 58 LSW-X Burst Laser and the 50 APR-X sniper rifle, most Enforcer support weaponry is supplied by Recoil Industries. Strike Forces regularly enter combat with their missile launchers and various other special weaponry, such as the Thermal Rifle, the Incinerator and the Fusion Gun. While each Enforcer is given basic training in the use of each of these weapons, they are generally only taken to the field by specialists except in particularly unusual situations.

The Genling Corporation was famously granted an exclusive munitions license to supply Enforcer units in 3102, and produced multiple variants of the same HLR technology, including sidearm and support weapon versions, until their merger six years later. Accutek now reserves the Genling brand for Enforcer weaponry, and has validated over a dozen alterations to the original design to improve accuracy, stopping power and ease of use.

Children of Science Only a very limited amount is known about the journey taken by an Enforcer recruit. One thing that is for certain is that the results are remarkable considering that the average timeframe seems to be less than a standard year. Consequently, it is almost certainly the case that Enforcers are physically altered through unnatural

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means. Whether this is via internal nanite machinery, gross cybernetic change or biogenetic modification remains unknown. What is obvious to anyone who has watched them in action is that they are certainly more than human. They have been seen to fight on with terrible wounds, and their medics will work on the most even the most grievously wounded casualties in a manner that suggests an expectation of recovery, while their enormous strength cannot be entirely explained by the assistance granted by their armour alone. Some of the more fanciful infosphere posts on the topic have suggested they might also possess acidic blood, the capacity to go weeks without sleep and the ability to survive a hard vacuum without their armour, but these are almost certainly little more than gross exaggerations. Regardless of the truth, the Council of Seven is all too happy to allow this wild theorising; after all, it shrouds the Enforcers’ true nature and makes their reputation even more terrifying.

In The Deadzone The Enforcers were sent to Nexus Psi to protect the interests of the Council of Seven, but their actions have much wider-ranging implications than the whims of the Sphere’s ruling caste. The Plague is a deadly threat to the future of the GCPS, and while it is technically confined to the surface, Containment Protocol is never as secure or final as intended. Quarantined worlds – Deadzones, as they are generally known – are popular targets for rebels and raiders alike, not to mention some of the more underhanded corporations who don’t wish to lose whatever assets were held on-planet. NavCorp is only one of many systems that can be used to navigate space, and no matter how tightly organised a blockade is, there are always gaps for shrewd ship captains to sneak through. If even a single landing craft were to be commandeered, and a lone First-Stage Infected left the planet, there is no telling how far the contagion could spread.

Although the Enforcers’ primary mission is therefore to hunt and kill any Plague they can find, they may have dozens of secondary objectives. They might be looking to recover sensitive information or equipment before it can fall into enemy hands, or rescuing particular members of a corporation’s staff so that they can continue whatever secret task the Council has given them. They do not concern themselves with anything outside their mission, meaning that the rescue of doomed citizens is not even a tertiary concern. Survivors who see Enforcers approaching may be filled with hope and relief at first, but they will soon come to realise that their nightmare is far from over…

I am a product of the greatest military programme in the history of the man. I am briefed on all forms of combat, and every enemy known to the Sphere. My training left no room for emotions like fear or hatred. That is why, as I sprint across the wreckage that used to be a motor pool or a mech depot or maybe a transit site, the only thing on my mind is a situational re-evaluation. My heart rate is elevated beyond acceptable levels. This is understandable, given the loss of my assault blade and right forearm. My uplink is faulting and I cannot contact my squad. Beyond that, I am at full capability. The enemy were strong, and they were fast. I did not see the unit that fired the opening shot, but damage spread and aftereffect suggests a heavy drone. The rest of my squad took firing positions in response while I advanced. I sighted three combat drones and made for them at speed. The melee that followed was surprisingly short. My swing went wide as my target sidestepped, grasped my overextended right arm and severed it at the elbow joint. The ease with which it neutralised my primary weapon was troubling. Furthermore, my visual stream showed that three of my squad had fallen. I ducked past its second strike and kicked out at its knee joint. It gave slightly, just enough to give me an opening. Without looking back, I broke into a sprint. It is a rare enemy that takes us by surprise. Standard procedure in this instance is to scatter and regroup. I will circle around to the rally point and trade my sidearm for a rifle. We will reconsider and re-engage. It is not our purpose to take revenge. We will simply annihilate them.

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The Corporations of Nexus Psi Although the Reiker Corporation was never granted a full licence to Nexus Psi, it was given leave to begin leasing areas of the surface to secondary concerns. As soon as it opened the application process, bids flooded in from dozens of corporations, large and small. As construction began, each started to carve out its territory, bringing all kinds of services to the local settlers. At the time Containment Protocol was enacted almost two dozen Corporations had a presence on-world, but five stood out as most active.

The Reiker Corporation

“At the forefront of expansion” Reiker grew out of a merger between several smaller corporations with a shared interest: planetary development. 42% of planetary licences in the fourth and fifth Spheres are held at the top level by Reiker, and they receive an estimated 7.1 teracredits annually as revenue generated by their sub-licensees. They were in the process of setting up a management hub on Nexus Psi when the planet was lost.

Carver, Inc.

“Standing Strong” Carver is a construction company that specialises in building in harsh climates and wild areas. It has become increasingly known for its work on frontier planets, where it provides permanent buildings to replace the temporary constructs built by early settlers. Its only project on Nexus Psi when the Plague broke out was Reiker City, a habitation complex built around the planet’s primary star port.

Accutek

“Your safety is our business” The largest manufacturer of arms and ordnance in the GCPS, Accutek has spent several years buying out its rivals and taking on their military and civilian contracts. Their research centre on Nexus Psi was rumoured to be conducting testing on new super-weapons for deployment by the Council’s elite Enforcer units; if this were true, the Containment Protocol would have meant untold losses for the company.

Mazon Labs

“For a better galaxy” One of the leading names in medical care and research, Mazon Labs (a subsidiary of the Mazon Corporation) is universally recognised for its comprehensive health assurance packages. It regularly sets up Frontier Outposts in new colonies, ensuring that its paying subscribers on the fringe of the GCPS are covered in the case of any mishaps.

Almar Incorporated “We’ve got your back”

If Almar’s corporate literature is to be believed, it can trace its roots back to Old Earth itself. Regardless of its history, it is the only name that most Corporations trust in the field of logistics and distribution. Almar bought into Reiker’s promise of Nexus Psi becoming a new hub of expansion, and hundreds of abandoned warehouses now litter the planet’s surface.

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

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Enforcer Ships Much like their weapons and armour, the ships of the Enforcer Corps represent a level of efficiency and lethality an order of magnitude larger than those used by corporate fleets. Equipped with advanced scanning arrays, passive and active ship to ship countermeasures and a full array of tactical ordnance, each class utilised by the Enforcers is more than capable of taking on bigger and heavier ships and winning.

Equipped with extensive flight hangars and troop decks, a single Wyvern can deploy enough Enforcers, support weapons and vehicles to assault an entire continent. It also mounts fearsome ordnance capability, with an internal stockpile of warheads extensive and varied enough to deal with any situation. The mere arrival of a Wyvern in-system is often enough to provoke enemy forces to surrender.

These craft are manufactured under terms of absolute exclusivity by the yards of the Xian Seng Corporation. Having risen to fame for its superior luxury cruisers, which are still seen as a status symbol by the richest of the super-elite, Xian Seng suddenly ceased trading to private consumers around the same time that the Enforcer programme went live. The corporation had always been dogged by whispers of experimental technology derived from unincorporated aliens, but while it is certainly true that they manufactured ships light years ahead of their competitors, nothing concrete was ever proved. Regardless, Xian Seng was clearly deemed fit to serve the purposes of the Council, which is now their only client.

While the Wyvern is only seen in the direst circumstances, the XSM-76 Drakon is a much more commonly-used ship. It is the main deployment craft used by the Enforcers, one of the smallest military craft fitted with a McKinley Drive. They are typically used as rapid reaction ships, and most blockades around quarantined planets are initially made up of these ships. Minimally crewed, Drakons still represent a real threat to any foolish enough to try and breach the cordon. Although there are some variants, most are fitted with an internal shuttle bay housing an XSM-762 Stallion dropship that can carry a full patrol force of thirty Enforcers plus supporting equipment. The Stallion is essential in the deployment of Recon troopers to a planet’s surface prior to the verification of a Containment Protocol, and its silhouette has become associated with coming danger.

Xian Seng manufacture two main classes of starship for the Enforcers, and most of what is known about them is based on limited observation and hearsay. The XSM-85 Wyvern is a heavier ship, designed for mass deployment of Enforcers into areas of heavy fighting, and it is rare to see more than one of these beasts in any given deployment zone. 36 - NEXUS PSI

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Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

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To the galactic north-east of the GCPS lies the Death Arc, a region of space that is considered by some to be one of the greatest mysteries of the galaxy. It was first explored by long-range scout ships from the Canco Corporation, who discovered a world whose verdant forests hid the ruins of a widespread urban culture. The scouts duly noted this, conducted a brief survey and moved on. At the time, little was thought of the deceased population. Intelligent life is common in the galaxy, but many species fail to make the transition to a hi-tech society without destroying themselves through war or environmental collapse. The planet-sized graves of those failed peoples dot the stars. What the Canco scouts had found, however, was not a lone tomb, but the first headstone in a cemetery. As they went onwards, the scouts found world after world where desiccated bones littered the crumbling streets and towering buildings stood like lonely monoliths, cracked with age and webbed with plant life. There were no signs of remainging intelligent life on any of the worlds. Unnerved and out of range of their nearest hub, the scouts turned back. The Death Arc was labelled as Unexploited and left alone. Time moved on. The Co-Prosperity Sphere continued its glorious expansion, and eventually the Frontier expanded to meet the edge of the Death Arc. Records of Canco’s expedition were dug out of the archives and re-examined. These worlds harboured a wealth of exploitable assets, so it was no surprise when licensing was opened and bids flooded in.

As Exploration Fleets made their way across the Death Arc, more detailed studies of the fallen civilisations began to filter back to Corporation Central. The reports were all similar: damage to the fabric of the civilisations’ infrastructure was not commensurate with large-scale warfare, save in two exceptions where atomic weapons had been deployed, but there were widespread indications of large-scale civil unrest, followed by societal collapse. Each planet’s population showed a sharp drop in number, which precipitated a rapid decline in technological aptitude. The last few survivors appeared to have been living at sub-metalworking levels before dying out altogether. Some of the civilisations in question had no contact with other worlds, while others appeared to be parts of thriving multi-system states with ties to other similar civilisations. All had met the same fate. As coincidence, cosmic phenomena and interstellar war were ruled out, the similarity of the worlds’ ends seemed to point to one thing only: disease. Some kind of terrifying, interplanetary pandemic. Epidemiological techniques revealed that the supposed contagion had apparently spread from somewhere deeper within the Death Arc. Even more disturbingly, teams of archeobiologists uncovered evidence that the contagion might not be as dead as they first thought; it appeared that it had died out several times, only to come back hundreds, if not thousands of years later.

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After a tense debate on Corporation Central, a verdict was reached. The resurgence of a contagion as brutal as the one that had devastated the Death Arc, one that could apparently travel between planets, was considered to be too high a risk to allow further exploration. For the first time in its history, the Galactic Co-Prosperity Sphere made the decision not to expand. The Death Arc would be its first permanent border, held firmly by a blockade of Enforcer ships. That decision might have gone down in history as one that saved the GCPS, had the contagion been confined to the Death Arc.

Adriana Falls Years passed, and the threat of the dead worlds was forgotten. When sudden outbreaks of rioting and looting were reported on Adriana, one of the more well-developed planets in the Frontier, no one in the Core took notice; after all, it was something for the local security patrols to deal with. Then video streams started arriving, showing terrified colonists being hunted down and killed by brutish thugs clad in torn rags and the skins of their fellow men. These butchers were accompanied by strange, giant mutant creatures that bounded through the burning streets, hunting for prey like pack animals. From the comfort of their booths in the watch stations of Corporation Central, intelligence operatives watched as the beasts fell upon helpless citizens half a galaxy away. Enforcer patrols were rerouted to investigate the planet from orbit, expecting to find some kind of alien attack force, but there was nothing in orbit other than Adriana’s moons. Scans of the surface seemed to point to the violence having spilled out from a central location in the northern hemisphere, and it was postulated that the creatures had emerged from below ground. One man stood up against this and put forth a new theory: contagion.

Before his promotion to watch operative, Tomas Ledecker had been loosely involved in the collation of data from the Death Arc. Had he not been at his station at the right time, things may have turned out very differently; luckily, he was present to point out the similarities between the happenings on Adriana and the projected events that had led up to the fall of so many worlds in the Death Arc. He raised the point with his supervisor, who passed it up the chain of command. The stream footage was examined more closely, and the operatives – hardened agents who had witnessed some of the worst atrocities in Corporation space – let out a collective gasp. The large creatures were pouncing on their targets, but were not killing them. Their victims were wracked with a series of convulsions, their flesh seeming to contort and their musculature seeming to expand, before rising to join the ranks of the hunters. It was a contagion, likely the same one that had caused untold death on so many worlds. It had to be contained. This news reached the Enforcer Wyvern Deucalion just in time. Fixed in a geostationary orbit around Adriana, the cruiser registered a ship dusting off from New Brunnen Starport. It was only a small commercial vessel, but it showed close to two dozen life signs – far more than would normally have been expected for a ship of its size to carry. Deucalion ordered it to arrest its ascent, but nothing came back across the comms net. Only pausing momentarily to confirm orders with Corporation Central, the warship opened fire, atomising the smaller ship in seconds.

Exodus Massacre Across the planet, more craft were beginning to dust off. It was a mass exodus. There was no way of knowing which of them held innocent civilians trying to escape the horrors, but it didn’t matter. The orders were clear. Enforcer ships spread out to form a cordon around the planet, and nothing was allowed to leave. It is estimated that almost a fifth of the world’s population

STAGE 3As Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

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was massacred in the skies before the starports were targeted from orbit, preventing any further ships from leaving. The ships stayed in position for an entire month as Corporation Central debated what to do. There were calls to carpetbomb Adriana from orbit, but this was refuted by representatives from some of the larger Corporations. A Lu-Fan spokesperson gave an impassioned speech, making the case that while the creatures on the planet had rampaged through the populace, they had left structures mostly intact. Many of those structures represented a significant credit value, and in some cases several years of investment. Certainly, they were off-limits for now, but once the contagion died down, there was nothing to say they couldn’t be reclaimed. They refused to budge on the issue, and eventually the decision was passed up to the Council of Seven. A simple response was returned: Contain outbreak. Preserve Infrastructure. Adriana was completely quarantined, the first victim of what is now known as Containment Protocol. It was stripped from NavCorp records, removed from logs, and references to it in official and commercial documentation were amended. This was seen as a significant risk, but sure enough no one stepped forward to question the disappearance of an entire planet. Either no one noticed, or – more likely, according to the Sphere’s many conspiracy theorists – dissenters were silenced before they could make their voices heard. This was so effective that it became a codified practice, and was used in years to come as a response to a variety of scenarios from outbreaks of contagion to hostile alien incursions.

The Frontier Artefact In the aftermath of the Adriana incident, as intelligence operatives combed through archived data packets sent in the run-up to the outbreak, the source of the creatures (which had, by this point, been dubbed “The Plague”) became clear. Shortly before the first report of violence, a construction team had struck a metallic object while laying foundations for a research station. The object was big, almost as large as the excavator that had uncovered it, and seemed impervious to damage. It had eventually been unearthed and properly examined. The log report did not go into much further detail, but it did give the full analysis report that had been completed on the site. The object had possessed an unusual radioactive signature which echoed one that, sure enough, been found by one of the science teams investigating the Death Arc. This was only the first Artefact to be discovered on the Frontier. More followed, and each time there came the Plague, and another Containment Protocol. By the time the Artefact on Nexus Psi was unearthed, almost three dozen planets had been quarantined.

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Frm//Corp/Lu-Fan/xxx/hleish To//Corp/Lu-Fan/ctrl/zmeng Subj: Findings re intra-infected violence Please find below the summary of the recently completed research project into intra-infected behaviour, focussing mainly on aggression. In short, despite the violent tendencies of the infected, out-and-out aggression between vectors is rare. This is concurrent with initial theories laid down following the study of visual records from quarantined worlds. Study of captive vectors lends weight to this theory. Whatever stage the disease has reached, the infected emit complex, artificial hydrocarbons through their membranous tissues. These function in a similar manner to pheromones in more standard mammals. Changes to the olfactory epithelia and olfactory bulb make this scent highly distinctive to the infected, and it has been proposed – although not yet conclusively proven – by researcher Guillermo Cortez that this results in inhibited aggression between those who carry the Plague. This is the sole adaptation common throughout all Plague hosts, regardless of species (and, interestingly, whether or not they regularly possess an olfactory sense), and suggests it is reflective of some fundamental aspect of the presumed alien species that seeded worlds with their Artefacts. We will continue to aggressively pursue this avenue of research, as if the theory of intelligent design is correct, then every crumb of information, no matter how small, is a potential feast. In any case, we are currently working on a way of mimicking the scent to allow our operatives to move undetected among the ranks of the infected. This would mostly benefit scientific retrieval teams, and would be of little to no use to the military; in our studies, the inhibition of aggression is annulled once hostilities are initiated. Our work continues, to the ongoing glory of Lu-Fan.

Ranged Weaponry

Melee Weaponry

Although Stage 3 infected scavenge weapons from a huge variety of sources, from fallen security agents to Marauder units and Reb crews, the vast majority come from the Accutek Corporation’s Backworlder range.

As well as ranged weapons, most Stage 3s carry crude hand-made blades. Based on footage collected from surveillance streams, it has been noted that the fabrication of these weapons is one of the first acts of a newly-infected subject. This appears to be a hard-coded reflex, and has been the subject of intensive research by those that wish to understand the Plague. After all, it is one of the few examples of the infected creating rather than destroying.

Nexus Psi has a thriving ecosystem, with a vast array of dangerous fauna, and most outposts employed teams of dedicated huntsmen to watch the perimeters for predators. Accutek gladly supplied these units, scattering shots of triumphant hunters cradling Beastmaster .78 Rifles and Wagoner Spread-Cannons across their marketing streams. When the Plague came, no amount of experience could have prepared even these specialists for the approaching tide. Their attempts to thin the herd were in vain, and they fell with those they were trying to save, dying in droves or succumbing to the virus. Their firearms, designed with the Frontier in mind to be reliable and easy to maintain, made perfect weapons for the growing surge of the infected.

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

The most popular theory behind this behaviour is that as the mutation rewires the subject’s brain, it regresses to its most basic needs. Simple bladed weapons have served primitive cultures for millennia, so they are an almost instinctive choice when the infected are driven to arm themselves. The sheer variety of such weapons that have been recovered from quarantined areas is a chilling testament to the twisted ingenuity of these monsters.

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The GCPS sells itself as a utopian society, and there are many in the Core Worlds who would agree. After all, why wouldn’t they? These are the ultra-privileged, the cream of human society. They never need to leave their beautiful homes overlooking incredible vistas. Robot servants act out their every wish while hoverdrones bring them anything they ask for, in their choice of colours and flavours. They want for nothing… …with the exception of freedom. This is the belief of a rising number of citizens who see the abundance of choice as nothing more than a distraction from the true horrors of life in the GCPS, especially the Core. There are increasing numbers of subnet bulletins, passed between friends and coworkers, calling for change. You are a prisoner, they blare. The Council rules your life from birth to death. It’s hard to argue; after all, it’s a well-documented fact that the Corporations store inordinate amounts of data on each and every citizen in their jurisdiction. Every transaction, every message, some say even every thought is logged and archived, used for research purposes and targeted marketing. Almost every flat surface features a screencam, observing citizens’ behaviour while streaming endless commercials and promos. After all, a good citizen is a good consumer, and there’s always something new and shiny to think about instead of what goes on outside the neon brilliance of the Core. Although the messages calling for awareness are increasing in number, they mostly fall on deaf ears.

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HUMAN

Luxury is hard to give up, even if the cost is personal liberty, and most choose to ignore the bigger picture in favour of fitting in. Those who do listen are taking the first steps on a dangerous path. The Council of Seven is wary of dissenting voices, and is not beyond engineering the sudden disappearance of anyone seen to be stepping too far out of line. This is a relatively recent development in the history of the GCPS. For a long time, free thought was tolerated, even though it was not encouraged. Then everything changed.

Dissent in the Core It’s impossible to pinpoint the dawn of the Rebellion. For as long as there has been a ruling class, there have been those who stood against it. However, the point at which it changed from a group of political idealists to a force of organised separatists is plain to see. For a long time, those who disagreed with Corporation Central’s leadership were mostly content to hold their rallies and protests, arriving on Corporation Central in their hundreds or thousands and spending a day clashing with local security forces, then returning to their mundane lives to plan their next grand move. This cycle continued for years, with no real change ever coming as a result.

ZEES

YNDIJ

Then the Council of Seven passed a new item of legislation. It was nothing more controversial than anything that had gone before, simply a minor increase in taxation on second-Sphere properties, but this time there was a different atmosphere among the protestors on Corporation Central. They seemed more agitated, more restless. When Enforcers were brought in, forming cordons around several important buildings, something snapped. Projectiles were already being thrown when the first shots were fired from the crowd, severely injuring a CCM agent. Reports flared across the infosphere, prompting countless questions from the concerned public. Why had someone had brought a weapon to an allegedly peaceful protest? What would be the punishment for the crime? Why hadn’t they already caught the anarchist responsible? In retrospect, the answer to this last question is clear. After the shots were fired, the Enforcers reacted almost instantly. Defender units with tower shields made their way to the front lines, clearing the streets by smashing aside anyone too slow or stupid to get out of their way. Behind them, their squadmates laid down suppressing fire with their heavy rifles, singling out armed rioters but catching others in the crossfire. The massed crowd – men, women, even some children – tried to flee, but were blockaded by armoured transports and security patrols. In the largest mass arrest ever to take place, over a thousand protesters, most of them simply standing peacefully for something they believed in, were detained in mass underground holding pens. Their sentence was swift and brutal: everyone present in the riots was to be deported to Niobe, a prison world in the Third Sphere.

TERATON Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

The Niobe Breakout If things had gone the way the Council of Seven had intended, the fate of the Corporation Central rioters would never have been revealed. However, something had changed that day. Although the CorpCast streams continued their countless distractions, a record number of citizens were refusing to tune in. Instead, the subnet – the Council-approved Infosphere’s darker counterpart – was ablaze with information. From all across the GCPS, people from all walks of life began to piece together the full story of what had happened. Surveillance operatives, operating clandestinely within Corporation HQ, jacked into crypt-locked channels to release classified streams. Lecturers and labourers worked with each other to piece together evidence. Even prison guards on Niobe, outraged at the innocent people being thrust into their charge to live among murderers and rapists, added overheard eyewitness accounts. A picture began to emerge. Although it was certainly the case that the Enforcers on Corporation Central had been reacting to gunfire from the crowd, it had only been one aggressor with one weapon. The Enforcers acted far too quickly; it was almost as though they had been planning to march on the crowd all along. Also, there was precious little surveillance footage of what happened that day – an incredible number of feeds had either been down for maintenance or obscured by vehicles and display boards. As information was shared on crypt-locked channels and more of the picture began to emerge, people began to talk of action. A movement was beginning to form.

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Before, dissidents had tried to urge the Council of Seven to share its power, tried to talk it into changing its ways. Now, for the first time, there was talk of open revolt. No one used the term “rebellion”, but it was on everyone’s mind as they began to make their plans. The first action of the Rebs, as they were quickly dubbed by underground media channels, was aimed at Niobe Prime Correctional Complex. It was meticulously planned. At the midnight guard rotation, all hell broke loose. Explosives were detonated at key locations to prevent guard movement; smoke bombs and EMP charges killed all audio and visual streams. A small flotilla of transports approached on a low vector, straight past anti-air turrets that were mysteriously deactivated, as planted agents ushered the protesters from their cells and into the courtyard. Sixteen minutes after the first detonation, there was no sign of the prisoners or their rescuers.

The Birth of a Movement The mass exodus from Niobe Prime was the catalyst for the start of a more formalised Rebellion. Exchanging coded information via the subnet, groups began to coalesce together, moving out from the Core Worlds and setting up base camps in the Expansion Zone. As before, they came from all walks of life, many with useful skills and contacts that helped the fledgling movement gain momentum. Former quartermasters and illicit arms dealers worked together to source weapons, while engineers and technicians began work on communications gear and explosives. As leaders began to emerge from the ranks, discussing what their eventual goals would be, it was agreed that all-out war would never be an option. They could never stand up to even a single full-strength Corporate Army, let alone an Enforcer patrol. Theirs would be a guerrilla war.

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HUMAN

Years went by, and the Rebellion grew in strength. They spread themselves across the entire arc of the Frontier, never staying in one place for long for fear of retaliation. It came occasionally; entire enclaves would be wiped out when Corporation Central managed to gather enough information to trace them. Still, any survivors would soon find their way to another group, and those that were killed were held up as martyrs for the cause. The worst blow came in 3101, when a summit of enclaves was ambushed in the Aizu Quadrant by a massive Enforcer armada. The Rebellion lost over two thirds of its number in a single conflict, and has been working to rebuild ever since.

New Beginnings Although the Rebellion has maintained its informal nature, the sheer size of the movement meant that some structure became a necessity. A loose chain of command was built up over time, although the use of ranks and titles is reserved for the military wing, which only forms a small percentage of the Rebs’ overall numbers. Everyone else is expected to be able to take up arms and fight, of course, should the need arise. The majority of the Rebellion is made up of planted operatives working within the GCPS to bring it down, and support workers furthering the work of their cause through the subnet and other communication channels. The Reb military wing is roughly divided into groups known as Crews. The name is a result of the fact that they are generally made up of as many fighters as can comfortably fit into whichever craft they are assigned. They act autonomously, each with its own Field Commander – a relevant name, as while they are in the field, they assume total control of their mission, although they may defer to more experienced officers in

HUMAN

SORAK

the same combat zone. Crews undertake a huge variety of missions, from supporting secession attempts to entering warzones to strike at the GCPS when it is already stretched to breaking point. Most dangerous of all, particularly brave Crews will make their way to Deadzones, where entire Corporation installations will have been abandoned. It’s not without its risks, but the potential windfall from such a raid could easily fund entire guerrilla campaigns.

Aliens in the Rebellion The GCPS is overtly founded on the principles of equality for all and benign governance, with an offer of incorporation theoretically extended to anyone who shares the galaxy with mankind. Some species and cultures, such as the Forge Fathers, are shrewd enough to remain unincorporated. Others, like the Orx and the Z’zor, are considered dangerous and would not be approached with such an offer (with the exceptions of those who have been granted amnesty by the DGB). However, those that agree to become part of the GCPS soon discover that the promises of equality and progressiveness are a little different to the truth. The ancient Teraton Empire is a prime example of this. Initially approached by ambassadors from the McAelia Corporation, they looked on mankind as newcomers to the galactic stage and refused to take them seriously. They agreed to their offer as a kindness, the way a smiling elderly relative would acknowledge a child’s crude painting, not realising their mistake until it was far too late. Now they have found themselves yoked to multifarious Corporations through trade agreements and licences, all of which are binding under their own laws as well as those of the GCPS. Their once-glorious Empire is in decline, and there is nothing they can do to stop it.

Elsewhere, Incorporation was only offered after the initial violence died down. The Yndij of Azure IX tried to resist the mining crews that came to their mineralrich world, only to be massacred in their thousands by Enforcers before a chance intervention by the Rebellion. Scores of Yndij left their homeworld on rebel ships, but those that remained sorrowfully pledged their allegiance to the GCPS. Now they live as thirdclass citizens on their own home soil, restricted to reservations and seen as little more than an oddity for tourists to stare at. There are countless other stories of alien species being subjugated in the name of progress, most of them too scattered, scared or underpowered to consider fighting back by themselves. For those among them who wish to do something about the Corporations’ stranglehold, there is one place to go: the Rebellion. It would be a mistake to assume that the humans of the Rebellion are all beneficent, selfless folk who see aliens as their equals. The Rebellion contains as many xenophobic individuals and groups as any collection of humans in history. However, much as some Rebs might not get along with the aliens in their ranks, they are nothing if not pragmatic. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all, and doubly so when he happens to be eight feet tall and able to outpunch an Enforcer. Only the staunchest xenophobe could doubt the incredible potential alien species bring to the Rebellion. It is a common misconception that “the Rebellion” is a single organised body, but in truth the Rebs are as split by personality, creed and philosophy as any other organisation. Some cells even go so far as to wholeheartedly blame aliens for the state of the Corporations they rally against. As a result, one rebel crew might have a large number of aliens in its ranks, while another has none. One might be composed almost entirely of Sorak, while others will happily hunt down Teratons for their hides like any corporate-funded hunting party. After all, they argue, the Rebellion needs all the money it can get, from whatever source.

SURVEY DRONE

GROGAN Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

NEXUS PSI - 45

The Marauders are not a species, but rather a rough faction of an alien species who call themselves ‘Orx’. Hailing from a cluster of systems halfway toward the spinward edge of the Sagittarius arm, they were first discovered several hundred years ago by an ill-fated expedition by the Klandax Corporation. The name of the commander of that first expedition is lost to history, though it was to set off a chain of events whose effects are felt to this day. As the body responsible for governing an everexpanding human realm throughout the galaxy, Corporation Central was always keenly aware of its need for a dedicated military force with which to maintain its authority over the growing GCPS. To achieve this, Corporation Central relied on the Central Combined Military, created from tithes of soldiers drawn from the military forces of each of the corporations and indoctrinated into the loyal service of the Council itself. However, the requirements of their duties were very straining, often involving the prosecution of genocidal campaigns against hostile alien populations, as well as actions against rebellious humans and even – on occasion – rogue corporations themselves. As the GCPS grew, and certain corporations amassed great wealth and power from contracts and corporate planetary annexations, these intra-corporate conflicts became more frequent. The obvious concern of potentially conflicting loyalties if a Central force was ever called upon to censure the corporation from which it originally derived was unfortunately and calamitously realised in the Sandort uprising of 2976. This made

it clearer than ever that the council needed its own permanent force, who would answer only to them, independent of the corporations and their politicking and without any of the moral qualms that regular troops might have over some of their more unsavoury duties. It didn’t take them long to find their ideal candidates.

First Contact The Orx first came to the attention of the GCPS after they annihilated the Klandax Corporation expedition which landed on their homeworld, Gora. Such expeditions had been plying the stars for decades, encountering and subduing many dozens of alien species, as humanity expanded rapidly outwards. Their first reports from the planet’s surface spoke of a hostile, primitive indigenous race, but then the reports stopped abruptly. No further telemetry was received from the fleet. The loss of an expedition was not particularly unusual in and of itself, but the speed with which it had occurred was. Automated distress transmissions received from the fleet indicated that they had been wiped out within seventy two hours of initial contact. Klandax responded immediately, dispatching a full military strike force to recover the expedition fleet’s expensive equipment and establish a firm claim on Gora before other corporations took advantage of their perceived weakness and moved in.

HULK GOBLIN GUNTRACK 46 - NEXUS PSI (order #5652513) Matthew McDonald

GOBLIN SNIPER

This force, under Commander Mitrandesh, arrived in system to find the ships of the forerunner fleet drifting, apparently deserted. Dozens of shuttles disgorged from the military fleet, carrying ship crew and engineers to reclaim the ghost ships, as the troop ships took up position to begin a planetary landing. Mitrandesh, unwilling to take any chances on the unknown foe beneath, and not suspecting such primitive foes to be able to attack their orbital craft, deployed his entire force. The shuttles reached their destinations, docking in the wide hangar bays of the expedition fleet’s ships and offloading their crews before heading back to their parent ships to bring a second wave of support. They did not go back alone. The Orx, displaying a cunning that belied their primitive nature, had observed drop-ships from the expeditionary fleet landing and taking off on supply runs, and their natural impetuousness had led groups of them to creep aboard. Having made it onto the ships in orbit they had overpowered the crews, unwittingly cutting off fleet support to the expeditions below and leaving them easy targets for their fellows. Now they repeated the same trick, making their way to the military fleet. They carved their way through unsuspecting deck crews and made their way into the corridors of the battleships before being hunted down by the short-handed security staff that remained on-board. The hunt took several days, and by the time the last of the Orx was taken down the situation on the planet had taken a severe turn, and ground support had been severely compromised. Mitrandesh was furious, and vowed revenge. The troops he commanded were the best that the Klandax Corporation could muster, veterans of many successful campaigns, and he had every confidence in their ability to destroy the primitive aliens. When they first met their quarry in full-on combat, the Orx opened with a frontal assault which resulted in heavy casualties. Mitrandesh’s confidence was boosted – their foe might be able to overpower a force made up primarily of explorers, but it would swiftly capitulate when confronted with real military steel. He had not expected the Orx to have learned their lessons so well. Having decided that all-out attack was ineffective against this new foe, they resorted to guerrilla tactics, using their innate knowledge of the land to launch a series of lightning hit-and-run raids. They had moved from using primitive clubs and spears to wielding the weapons of their fallen enemies, and the Klandax force was whittled from five thousand men to just over a hundred within less than a week. It didn’t help that Gora was as hostile as its inhabitants, subject to extremes of temperature from its erratic orbit around its sun, and covered in mountainous, inhospitable terrain. Despite this, the aliens didn’t seem to tire, and had no observable reaction to heat, cold or even pain. Mitrandesh was able to activate a final emergency beacon before being ultimately overwhelmed. With the loss of one of their most highly-decorated commanders and a large chunk of their military force,

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

as well as an expeditionary fleet, Klandax petitioned Corporation Central for aid. The Council itself authorised the redeployment of a man responsible for some of their most widespread alien purges: General Julius Klimt, to deal with the problem. Klimt was an experienced career soldier, a living hero whose steelblue eyes and chiselled jaw had been used on more than one occasion in CCM recruitment visuals. He had lasted as long as he had because he knew exactly when and where to press an advantage. As he surveyed the reports from Gora, he saw immediately that brute force had not worked on these creatures, and resolved to take a single ship. Entering the system, Klimt was confronted with panicked radio calls from Mitradesh’s flagship announcing that the aliens had captured the fleet, though they showed little interest in actually going anywhere. They seemed instead content devouring the onboard supplies and hunting the remaining crew for sport. Klimt, following his keen instincts, resolved to meet the aliens face to face. He boarded a shuttle and made his way, alone, to the flagship. With no witnesses, nobody ever knew exactly what passed between Klimt and the Orx, but he returned unharmed to his ship some twenty seven hours later, announcing that he had found a solution. Surprisingly, the Orx stood aside and allowed the ships’ crews to resume their positions, and the battered flotilla made its way back to Corporation Central. Klimt presented the leaders of the Orx to the Council, suggesting that the very soldiers they had been seeking for so long were right in front of them. The Orx were tough, resourceful, possessed of a crude but undeniably quick ability to learn, and were above all pragmatic. They had no religion, and no concept of politics. Straightforward in the extreme, they were more than happy to fight for anyone who would pay them.

Professional Soldiery These then were the first mercenaries of the Orx race. Pressed into immediate service and trained under the watchful eye of Klimt himself, they were inducted, equipped and led on various expeditions the galaxy over. They adapted to this life with astonishing speed and capability, and gradually came to replace the CCM wholesale. Eventually, as more and more were recruited from Gora, they even came to lead themselves – exceptional specimens being promoted to officer status and leading battalions of their fellows to war. What happened to precipitate the dark period of time known as the Mandrake Uprising is something that nobody but the Council themselves will ever know the truth of. Certainly, it had been noted that Orx were ruthless creatures, utterly without anything so complex as a moral code, and happy to fight and kill whatever was put in front of them (other Orx included) for the right price. Rumours persist that certain humans, disillusioned with the dictatorial authority of the Council, began to whisper in the ears of the lead NEXUS PSI - 47

Orx, trying to turn them against their masters. Some point to the various sub-species within the Orx race and speak in hushed tones about Council-sanctioned experiments with live specimens in gene-splicing and genetic engineering that went horribly wrong, leading to outrage in the alien ranks. Whatever the truth, there came a day when the Orx elected to throw off their corporate shackles. How the war began, who fired the first shots or why it grew as it did, are all details now deemed too dangerous to be public knowledge. Certainly the war reached a point where the Council no longer considered any Orx to be friendly. Klimt, disgraced by the failure of his pet project, was finally killed leading a charge against his erstwhile prodigies. Drawing upon the combined military assets of all of the major corporations, including several former CCM troopers that had been reassigned to their original units, the Council ordered that the Orx were to be obliterated. Their great fleets scattered; gradually, out of preservation and circumstance, they splintered into smaller and smaller bands. The Marauder civilisation – a disparate race of pirates and guns for hire, loosely linked by a common background – was born. Today, Marauders range from small ‘commando’ forces available to the highest bidder, to large piratical bands working the dark corners of the shipping lanes for their own profit. As mercenaries, they hire themselves out to any faction willing to pay their fees, ad are always available for the right price. Experience quickly taught them to play heavily on the fact that they are generally viewed as brutish and stupid, when the truth is anything but. Smart, well-trained and highly adaptable, they take great pleasure in duping those who think otherwise. Many are those who lived to rue the day that they underestimated an Orx band.

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In their time as the footsoldiers of the Council, the Marauders were exposed to the truth behind Deadzones, and so are well aware of the signs that point to one. Being naturally immune to the Plague (something the Council would desperately like to replicate in its Enforcers) they have no issues whatsoever in dealing with the beasts that it creates. This makes them valuable assets to any Corporations brave or foolish enough to risk the ire of the Council by hiring them. In the cut-throat world of GCPS politics any opportunity to steal a march on a rival is worth such risks to some, and a Deadzone is the ideal cover for an Orx raid to steal whatever their competition might be working on. Orx themselves are also fully aware of the spoils to be had on planets under Containment Protocol, and often a powerful commander will elect to take his band into a Deadzone to pilfer whatever they can find for their own use, whether from the facilities on the planet or from other opportunists on the surface. In any case, although the details may change from one band to another, the Orx’ reasons for being on Nexus Psi will always come back to the same thing – their next big payday.

COMMANDO

WARLORD

CHAMPIONS OF NEXUS PSI Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

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Hostile Acquisitions “Above all, remember this one rule: everything has a price” – Karstark & Klein executive induction pack.

I waited for the Sevens in a dank alley on the outskirts of Outpost 504K, the scent of low-level corrosion and rot filling my nose. Moisture-slick neocrete paving stretched away into the night, a thin veneer of sodden paper refuse and fluid spills staining its surface. Around me, prefab habtainers and storage units rose unsteadily, rust spots and peeling paint showing that whatever profit Lu-Fan was exploiting here hadn’t trickled all the way down. The megacorp hadn’t put down many roots on Nexus Psi, but they’d left their mark on 504K. As I looked up into the starless night sky, my eye was drawn to the giant sign advertising the outpost’s owning corporation. Elder Ho, the kindly faced patrician mascot of Lu-Fan, smiled benignly from the hoarding, radiating approval from his grandfatherly human-standard Asiatic features. At some point, some slazz-wit had clambered up there and added a speech balloon in thick white spraytint, a play on the assigned codename for this development showing what passed for wit here. “Welcome to the Soak,” the old man now said, his face slicked with the constant downpour that blessed this part of the world. I freely admit: I hated this planet. I hated the constant bone-deep aching chill that was caused by the incessant rain. I hated the ‘do-or-die’ gung-ho personality that most of these frontier prospectors displayed, in defiance of the clear fact that if the galaxy had an arse, this planet was the hole at the end of it. All the same, I knew that my hatred of the place meant nothing. K&K’s orders were clear. Kayla Reis wanted out, and was so desperate to jump she was offering a big sweetener. Like it or not, I was here to do a job, and profit always comes first where the corporations are concerned. Of course, it all hinged on the Sevens, and if they didn’t show soon Reis and I would lose our exit window. I pulled my coat closer against the rain and hunched into the scant cover afforded by a half-rotten awning. The Maxil-9 was a reassuring weight under my left arm, the Tebit blade a cool line against the small of my back. I didn’t plan on using either of them; after all, the Sevens were supposed to be bringing enough hardware to see this extraction through. Grendyl was getting a big payoff, so he’d be expecting to throw down against serious Lu-Fan security. Not that the Marauders needed any excuse. I just hoped they’d turn up soon. Official GCPS policy on the Marauders was shoot on sight, no quarter given. Unofficially, there were plenty of corporations – some big, some small – who still saw a potential for profit in the Orx. Karstark & Klein sat firmly in that camp. We were nothing compared to the big players, but we still had our niche as specialists in security and conflict investment, supplying arms, armour and personal security to franchise 50 - NEXUS PSI

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corporations. It certainly didn’t hurt our numbers if we occasionally paid a Marauder band to put the hurt on vulnerable franchisees, then swooped in to showcase our range of security options. This would have been a dangerous game to play in the Core, but this far out no one was any the wiser. We also had a quieter specialisation: extraction. In other words, pulling out execs from jobs they couldn’t walk away from. Most corporations saw their exec staff as lifers, bound to their contracts until retirement or death brought them to a close. Running to play for another team was seen as a betrayal, pure and simple. That’s where we came in. One of our “external assets”, usually Grendyl and his Bloody Sevens, would make a big noise, cause a mess, and provide cover for us to snatch the target. The owning corporation wrote it off as a pirate raid, the exec was noted down as a regrettable but affordable loss, and I made sure they got a new identity and job courtesy of K&K. In exchange we got a fat stack of credits, so happy faces all round. Except this time, Grendyl was late and it looked like the krat was about to hit the fan. The bass rumble of a cargo hauler engine shook me from my misery. It pulled to a halt at the end of the alley, exhaust grumbling fumes into the sodden night air as the cab door swung open, revealing the shadowy bulk of the Marauders inside. It took a certain low cunning and restraint for Orx to come this far into GCPS territory, but Grendyl certainly had the guts to pull it off. He was worryingly intelligent sometimes, almost to the point you could forget he was easily capable of removing your head with his bare hands, and it paid to be careful around him. Still, that stone-cold cunning was why I worked with him so often. He understood the importance of a good payday as much as the next exec and was a funtload more honest about it. Clambering into the musty cab, the first thing that hit me was the smell. No one could mistake it; a combined reek of adrenaline, old leather and something bitter that hit the back of the throat. I took a last lungful of night air and hauled myself up next to Callax. The long-limbed goblin with the ridiculous filth-crusted dreadlocks sneered at me, thin lips twisting in a dismissive smile and exposing yellowed needle fangs. The smile didn’t reach his beady eyes as he stroked the bull-pup carbine in his lap. I nodded at him as courteously as I could manage; over the ten years I’d been working with the Sevens, Callax had never lost the disdain with which he’d greeted me when we first met. Considering the bulk of his earnings came from the retainer I’d set up to secure their services, I’d have expected him to be a little more accepting, but maybe that was the point. Perhaps the alien just hated being in the pocket of the corporations.

RECON UNIT N32-19 When Containment Protocols were first introduced following the Adriana incident, the agents responsible for their enactment were admittedly a little triggerhappy, often containing worlds where there was no actual evidence of such action being necessary. This came to an end when a number of Corporations lodged formal grievances as the result of massive losses in revenue. A new system was clearly required. Following a long-winded testing phase, the new Containment Protocol Verification Framework came into effect, and has been mainly unchanged since. It ensures beyond doubt that a planet is a viable target for containment, and that salvage is impossible. There is a rigorous checklist for each potential situation that could arise, from Veer-myn infestations to uncontrollable rebel uprisings, but the checklist in the case of a Plague outbreak is very simple, consisting of a single point:

> Has there been visual confirmation of an infected creature by a qualified operative? These qualified operatives are usually Enforcer Recon Units, as they are the most capable of surviving on a potentially hazardous world while being entirely selfsufficient. As soon as Corporation Central receives notification that an Artefact has been uncovered, an appropriately-sized team (five troopers, in the case of Nexus Psi) is dispatched to the planet’s surface. Each one, wearing the stripped-back Enforcer armour sported by all Recon Units, is landed at a strategically vital point on the planet’s surface, and given a particular task to perform. Most will be instructed to gather information pertaining to the status of key targets or

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

personnel on-world, but one – the most experienced member of the team – will be given the most important task. On Nexus Psi, that position fell to Trooper Maxon, a.k.a. Recon Unit N32-19. N32-19 landed several kilometres out from the site where the alleged Artefact was discovered, and immediately went about setting up the array of equipment that he had brought for the task. Most importantly, he set up the Vigilance Control System, one of the key elements of the recon sweep. This was a safeguard, a dead-man’s trigger that would automatically flag the planet for containment if it was not deactivated before a given timestamp. Once the VCS was set, N32-19 released a cloud of surveillance drones and set off to complete his mission. The device was never deactivated, and Containment Protocol soon followed. Standard procedure follows that although the Recon Units are primarily on-world to gather information, this gives them a distinct tactical advantage, so they are not extracted once full Enforcer units move in. Instead, they act as guides and scouts, using their extensive knowledge of local terrain to guide Strike Teams to their targets. N32-19 was no different, and spent much of his time before VCS expiration tracking the Stage One that he believed to have been Dr Remy Urovic, the first to be infected according to the datalogs he streamjacked from a nearby outpost. Urovic’s position as a lead scientist on Nexus Psi had meant he was privy to a huge quantity of information that would be tactically useful to the enemy, and N32-19 took it upon himself to tag the creature for priority disposal by the first force to land.

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“Pinkskin.” The age-old slur hissed from Callax’s lips as readily as any greeting. I ignored him, pushed down the flare of rage he never failed to illicit and nodded at Grendyl instead. The squad’s leader was an altogether different beast from the Goblin. Hunched over the wheel of the hauler, slabs of muscle bulged at the seams of the stitchedtogether hides forming his undershirt and the flak-vest thrown over the top of that. His armour was a mix of different pieces, a few shards of his old auxiliary-issue ballistic plate here and there, a battered shoulder guard from an Enforcer, other less identifiable pieces. His skin still had a greyish cast to it, the legacy of hi-rad bleaching from a lifetime of war. A bass rumble crept out of his thickset jaw by way of acknowledgement. “Cutting it fine, Gren.” “Had to detour. Roadblocks springing up, lots of comm chatter talking about containment. You playing me?” The last came out as a threatening growl. “Containment?” It was the last thing I’d expected to hear, and I couldn’t help a note of panic from entering my voice. “Not playing you, but if they’re locking down it means we need to hurry.” “Not wrong. The crew don’t like being holed up in the trailer. Could get messy if we keep them in there much longer.” Grendyl and his crew ran much closer to the common perception of Marauders as animalistic thugs than most of the crews I’d worked with, and I didn’t doubt that it had taken an effort to get them to lie low. As if to emphasise his point, a muffled bang came from the trailer unit behind us. “So can we get moving? If we miss the rendezvous we miss Reis, and that means no payday.” “We miss our payday, you miss your trip out, Ander.” I didn’t push the issue any further. Working with Marauders was difficult at the best of times, and each crew was different, but I knew how to handle the Sevens. Grendyl threw the hauler into gear, gunning the engine. The low sodium glare from the lamplights reflecting from the rain-smeared windshield as we pulled away, heading deeper into the Soak to collect Kayla Reis.

Overhead, the three suns shone down mercilessly over the blasted shard-sands stretching in every direction. We were several hundred klicks out in the wastes, well away from any prying eyes. The idling engine of the Security Tetsudo was the only sound, the squat armoured vehicle training its cannons on the massive bulk of the Marauder chief squatting in front of us. The alien was big, certainly, but his sheer physicality seemed to make him bigger still. Pale green skin had been bleached paler still by the suns above, stretched taut across heavy bones and musculature that showed little sign of wastage despite his obvious age. If the 52 - NEXUS PSI

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multiple shrapnel and projectile wounds pockmarking his flesh bothered him, he gave no sign. A Hrunka knife lay in the sand in front of him, the hilt wrapped in cords and fetish-tokens. The blade was snapped halfway along its length. He fixed us with an even gaze, showing a calm acceptance of the facts. That in itself was worryingly indicative of the intelligence at play behind that bestial visage. I squatted down in front of the Marauder, within arms’ reach. Dark eyes watched me, a slight tensing of that huge frame his only reaction. Xenographical studies had said that eye contact was important to the Orx, that it showed courage and honesty. I hoped they were right. “You know, Harcout Consolidated is never going to recover from what you did here. They’re pulling out. Of course, plenty are jumping ship to us first, so I guess I should thank you. You’ve made me a tidy profit here…” I paused for effect only. The creature’s name was the first thing I’d known about him. “Grendyl, is it?” A ghost of a sneer touched those bestial lips, a hint of dark ivory fang beyond. “I have an offer for you. Not employment, nothing like that. You want your freedom and I am happy to let you keep that. It’s more of a mutually beneficial arrangement for us both. You carry on making a mess; I carry on cleaning up after you. The only difference is this: you do it when and where I ask you to.” The sneer blossomed into life. I pushed down the sudden involuntary spike of fear that rose in my gut. When I spoke, the words came out quicker than I intended, despite my cadence training. “Now, my people told me there would be a trust issue. They said how important it is to you. I’m hoping we can get past that.” “You pinkskins are all the same. No honour. No ghrak.” I didn’t speak the Orx’ native language, but his meaning was clear enough. My mind raced as I scanned his scarred form, trying to find a way to change the course of the negotiation. Layered under grime and blood, tracked under wounds old and new, were thick lines of tribal tattoos and brand-scars. I recalled my studies: when the Marauders had been a primitive race of hunters, they had been organised into clans, marking themselves with ritual scars to show their allegiance. This had carried over into crew markings. Grendyl’s own was brazen on his bare chest, carved there with his own Hrunka. An idea took root in my brain and my heart raced. Was I really going to do this? “You need a sign that I can be trusted. I understand that.” I drew my combat blade, noting how doll-sized it was against the length of the Hrunka. Peeling open my enviro-suit I exposed the pale skin of my chest, already slick with sweat. I stared into the Marauder chief’s eyes and pressed the tip of the blade into the skin over my heart. Taking a deep breath, I began to cut….

DOCTOR SIMMONDS

Life used to be so simple for Gayle Simmonds. An up and coming star in various fields, including biomechanics and xenoarchaeology, she was one of the genius minds dispatched to Nexus Psi by the Reiker Corporation to prepare the planet for colonisation. She stayed on long after her contract’s break clause, offering her guidance to the planet’s many research facilities once the colonies were thriving. That’s how she was unlucky enough to be among the first to see the Plague outbreak. When Exploration / Retrieval Team Six-Alpha was assembled following the discovery of an Artefact, she was drafted as deputy project lead under Remy Urovic, a brilliant but challenging biophysicist. She insisted that the discovery should be contained, following standard procedure, contrary to Urovic’s wish to get it back to the nearest outpost as quickly as possible; his decision won out, and the resulting outbreak almost wiped out their entire convoy. Urovic was the first to turn, and Gayle barely escaped with her life. She became the de facto leader of the defence at Outpost W4 after the local security team was all but eradicated by the first wave of infected and it became clear that the GCPS had contained them and left them to die. However, even a mind as brilliant as hers could not hope to hold out forever against the unstoppable tide of the Plague. Defiant in the clutches of a rabid 2A, her body succumbed to the mutant virus as her mind turned inwards and focussed on her final coherent thoughts: her fury at the Council of Seven for what they had done. The infection latched onto this seed of an idea, and when she awoke, twisted into a new form, she found her mind incredibly clear.

She, and the rest of the inhabitants of Nexus Psi, had been left to their fate by the GCPS. They must have known about the Artefact’s hidden dangers when they sent Six-Alpha to retrieve it. They wanted them to get infected. Now she would make them regret that decision. Working within the still-functioning laboratories of Reiker City, where a ready supply of test subjects can still be found cowering in the ruins of the half-finished research complexes, she has begun experimenting with the Plague virus. She is determined to find ways to make it even more potent, extracting it from victims on the cusp of change and using her repository of knowledge to weaponise it even further. She has built an army of workers, mechanics and pilots, all devolved Stage 3s still capable of operating machinery. Once she cracks the Containment Protocol override codes that prevent ships from leaving the surface, she will deliver the Plague to the heart of human civilisation and end mankind.

//transcript:nexuspsi/ w4/25449721[FINAL] **They’re back. The perimeter is down. **If anyone picks this up, you need to tell everyone what happened here. **The Council can’t get away with this. **Tell them w

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It took an hour of winding through the twisting lanes of the Soak, edging the cargo truck down near-abandoned streets, before we reached the rendezvous. Kayla Reis stood out like a sore thumb. Her voluptuous frame was packed into an art-house approximation of what a frontier enviro-suit should be. I could just imagine what the locals would have made of her. Long on ambition and drive but short on realism, Reis was sick of her role on Nexus Psi and almost pathetically grateful to have a way out. Her long blonde hair was pulled up under her hood, those big dark eyes of hers just visible in the sodium light. She stood next to a compact rover that marked her out as an outsider even more fully than her garb, its sleek bodywork barely touched by the grime of the Soak. Grendyl brought the cargo truck to a rumbling halt alongside. I could almost smell his disdain for this Core-soft executive. Reis looked up at the truck warily, visibly sagging with relief as the door opened and I jumped out. She leapt at me, smothering me in a fierce embrace, full lips finding mine in a flurry of kisses. Her voice was breathless, shaky with adrenaline. “Shek, Nils, I thought you weren’t coming.” I grimaced involuntarily into her neck, turning it into a smile as I pulled away from her. I’d led her to believe that this was more than a business transaction, and sure, she was fun in her own way, but I knew what I really wanted her for. She was a goldmine of potential profit courtesy of Lu-Fan. Long term, I wanted her in my day-to-day as much as I wanted Grendyl. She was a spoiled Core-brat with no understanding of her place in the galaxy. Luckily, the plan didn’t call for her to be leaving with us, but for now I had a part to play. “Kayla, sweet, would I ever leave without you?” I gave her my most reassuring smile. “We need to move quickly, love. My associates… well, they don’t like to be kept waiting.” Those big eyes of hers flicked to the dark windows of the hauler, and the vague hint of bulk inside. She didn’t know that the Sevens were anything more than a bunch of Rebs, but that didn’t make them any less intimidating to her. Nodding, she grabbed my hand and pulled me to the rover. The interior was cool, pleasantly-scented, and a marked improvement over the cargo hauler. A quick glance at the back seats showed several tote bags packed and ready to go. I’d sold Reis on the idea of extraction, a way out of Lu-Fan and a new job with another Corporation, one that would appreciate her particular skills and drive, and she’d bought it. Sometimes the promise of extraction was exactly what it looked like; other times, it was bait to land a fish and give us a way of unlocking bigger things. This was the latter. Reis smiled at me, trying her hardest to look brave, but I could see how nervous she was. Her hand shook as she thumbed the activator and gripped the wheel. That was good; she wouldn’t be looking too hard at what we were doing if she was terrified for her life. We peeled away from the curb, the hauler falling

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in behind us as we set off towards the outskirts of the Soak and the Lu-fan warehouse where the real prize was waiting. Habtainers of all shapes and sizes passed in a blur, neon lights smeared across the rain-slicked windows of the rover where the owners could afford them, hand-painted signs now sodden and swollen from the rain where they couldn’t. Lu-Fan owned the claim on 504K, and could have filled it with its own outlets, food merchants and wholesalers. Instead, it had allowed other, smaller corporations to deal with that side of things. For a reasonable stipend, a corporation could rent some groundspace, throw up whatever pre-fab it could move in and try to make some credits. They got the safety of the Lu-Fan security forces, which saved them the bother of spending creds hiring their own forces. Though it worked some places more than others, it was pretty standard practice for smaller corporations to be given this kind of opportunity out here in the fringes. For them, it meant the chance to make some money and contacts and matybe move a rung or two up the ladder. For the larger corporations like Lu Fan, it saved them the bother of shipping in their own materials and civvies, leaving them to concentrate on making the important discoveries and secure them accordingly. Like almost every aspect of life under the corporations, it was less a case of everyone winning, more everyone cutting their losses as best they could. Back in the core spheres, this kind of rough and ready cooperation between rival execs would be unthinkable. But then, back in the core, boardroom conflict was a pursuit taken as seriously as any war, and often with more casualties. A drop in the rover’s speed indicated we had reached our destination. Ahead of us was a prefab that dwarfed all around it, solid and imposing, with the symbol of Lu Fan prominently displayed in stencil edged precision on every wall panel. A tangled valley of razorwire surrounded the complex, moving with the eerie grace that spoke of a slaved AI sub-routine reacting to our presence. The electronic tags that Reis had supplied did their jobs, broadcasting our authority in blurts of data. The wire responded by rolling aside in a rustling wave, creating a bladed driveway leading up to the entrance of the building. Reportedly this place was holding LuFan’s entire bio-med supplies, together with research samples farmed from Nexus-Psi. Kayla had assured me that security was light, Lu Fan deeming the wire to provide adequate protection at a cheap price. As with every other element of corporate life, it all came down to the bottom line, squeezing every last credit they could out of their margins. The manifests she had supplied suggested a tidy profit in both gear and data to be made, something easily worth the effort going into this operation. We were expecting maybe a half-dozen bodies, light arms only – easily few enough for Grendyl and his handful of Marauders to deal with without breaking a sweat. Halogen-bright lamps threw halos of cold light into the gloom, cutting through the curtain of rain now falling. There was a knot of security in front of the immense doors to the warehouse, maybe a dozen troops, all clad

PROJECT OBERON The Nameless are an unincorporated alien society from the fringe of known space, a collection of like-minded species who are reluctant to outright ally with the GCPS. This reluctance will no doubt cost them in the long term, but for now they are distant enough from the Core to be able to exist as separatists without invoking the wrath of the Council of Seven. They are mostly unknown to the citizens of the Sphere, appearing only as a novel race for DreadBall fans to cheer about, but there are some who come to the central worlds to ply their trade or offer their unique skills. Project Oberon is one of the latter. His true name remains shrouded in mystery, consisting as it does of a string of sounds and phrases that are unintelligible (and unpronounceable) by most humanoid races, but Oberon serves well enough. It’s not like he finds much use for face-to-face communication in his current employment.

While the Council of Seven famously employs Enforcers to do its dirty work, there are times when such a hammerblow of brute force would be far too unsubtle. For those situations, they have a much smaller force of specialist operatives known colloquially as “fixers”. These lone wolves move silently throughout all levels of society, each using their own methods to quickly and quietly deal with the more complex challenges that present themselves to the central government of the GCPS. Under their employ, Oberon has assassinated hundreds of targets, but his work is much more far-ranging than the simple murder of dissidents. He has discredited would-be secessionists, prevented the leak of classified information to subnet streams, convinced Corporate heads that their intended course of action is unwise, and even caused untold civilian casualties in the name of the greater good. He is unfazed by even the most heinous jobs that come to him; after all, these are not his people. They are as alien to him as the Nameless are to the citizens of the GCPS.

The Council’s Best-Kept Secret One of Oberon’s greatest strengths is his peerless ability to leave a target scene clear of evidence. His unique physiology means he leaves no fingerprints or distinguishing marks, or even pheromonal spoor. His weapons of choice also reflect this aspect; most of his assassinations are carried out using solidified shards of a complex neurotoxin, either thrown from a distance or used up-close, to which he is entirely immune. As the target’s body absorbs the toxin, the shard melts and leaves no trace. Oberon’s arsenal also includes the Needler. This bizarre weapon is unique to the Nameless, and cannot be used by anyone outside of his race. To the untrained eye it resembles little more than a pair of crystalline prisms, one held in each tentacled hand. When activated, bolts of energy begin to arc across the wielder’s body, earthing in the prisms, until they are unleashed at a target. The unfortunate victim will be wracked with paresthetic contractions that intensify until they wreak havoc with the cardiac, pulmonary and vascular systems. Again, the weapon leaves no obvious sign that the victim was assassinated; it will simply look as though they suffered sudden organ failure. The Needler can also be used to overload delicate electronics, allowing Oberon to disable security systems at a distance.

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in foul-weather gear and toting hefty laser rifles. This was a serious increase in the security promised by Kayla. As we pulled up, three of them moved forward to intercept us, barrel-slung stab-lights probing the rover. One moved past to flank the cargo, peering into the darkened windows, rifle held in a professional grip. The other two bracketed our rover, stab-lights intentionally shone into our eyes to blind us. “Kay, what the hell is this?” I muttered, unease creeping up my spine. “I…I don’t know, they shouldn’t be here…the manifest said nothing about this…” “The manifest? Funt me, have you ever even come up here?” I hissed, hands held steady and in full view of the masked-up corporate security aiming his rifle at me through the rover window. It might be plexglass, but that laser would cut through it like a knife through butter, and then do the same to my head. His colleague was tapping on the driver’s window, indicating with a curt wave that Reis should lower it. I risked a glance back at the cargo. It stood, engine idling, no movement discernible through the windows. The security back there was also trying to get the driver’s window lowered. I hoped to Sol that Grendyl had some patience left. Reis was babbling through the open window, trying to reason with the impassive mask of the security visor. She was getting nowhere fast. There was a stern dismissal of her credentials and a blunt statement that she wasn’t authorised to be here. Desperation rising, she stopped wheedling and threatened, trusting to her badge to intimidate him. Bad move. He took it much as I expected, ordering her to kill the engine and for both of us to step out of the vehicle. He had the door open now, aiming his sidearm at her to emphasise his point. Another glance back showed me the security agent at the cargo trying its door, tugging at it to open. He half-turned to shout something to his colleagues, when a solid two foot tempered blade tore through the door in a squeal of tortured metal, lancing into his chest. It pulled back in another cacophony of noise, blood erupting from the massive wound in black loops under the harsh lights, and the trooper dropped to the ground. Kicking the ruined door clean from its hinges, Grendyl emerged into the wet night, steam rising from him as the cold air hit his flesh. A bestial roar tore free from his tusked maw, blood-slicked Hrunka gripped in one hand. A clatter of full-auto solid rounds split the night air, the trooper waving his gun at Reis was punched from his feet and the door beside him shredded into metal shrapnel. Blood splashed, scarlet and livid across Reis’s pale features and she sat in mute shock, shaking. One of the Marauders sprinted out from the rear of the cargo, chaingun braced in a crude exoskeleton. There was a sound like a large zipper being undone, and the loose group of security still at the door just disappeared in a haze of red mist, chips of neocrete flying. The agent on my side was already firing, las up and 56 - NEXUS PSI

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lancing beams into the onrushing Marauder flying at him with axe in hand. The las itself made no sound firing, but the ionisation of the air caused by the beams created a crack of ionised air with every shot. Puffs of cauterised flesh were chewed from the Marauder, reducing its face and upper torso to charred ruin as it fell, still howling through a heat-seared throat. His attention elsewhere, he didn’t register me opening the door, until my Tebit sank into his side, through the gaps in the ballistic plate. He dropped his rifle with a shocked gasp, and I drove him quickly to the floor. Kneeling atop his chest, I drove the knife swiftly through his throat, hand clamped over his mouth until he stopped kicking and relaxed. I was dimly aware that Reis had begun screaming, her cries shrill against the cacophony of the Bloody Sevens taking out the remaining security at close range and bringing charges up against the heavy doors. Two more Marauders jogged past in a loping run as I rose, Callax along with them. Grendyl walked behind, pace slow and deliberate, dark eyes taking in the blood on my face in a coolly appraising gaze. I swung round to Reis’s side, pulling her from the rover and into the rain. Face smeared with red already washing away in the downpour, she was pale with shock. “What…what are you doing? Marauders? You can’t bring them here!” Her voice was shrill, shaking though mercifully quiet, and her eyes shone with panic. “This is what you wanted Kay, your way out. This is Extraction.” Behind me, the bass thump of shaped charges announced the breaching of the door. The Marauders howled their triumph into the night.

The assistant who showed me in was catwalk perfect, the televid image of what an exec looked like. Long limbs sheathed in synth-cotton so thin, the sunlight from the window outlined her body in a soft glow. Artfully cropped hair framed pale eyes straight from the latest Lu-Fan cosmetic catalogue and the smile she gave me was nothing short of luminous. “Mr Steyne will be with you shortly, please take a seat.” The office was understated frontier-chic, desk a reconditioned slab of ironwood and the walls hung with a variety of alien trophies and pic-shots of off-world sunrises. I was unsure, new to Karstark & Klein, only three years into the entry level exec position I had secured in Conflict Investment. Curious, I stood by the desk, fingering a thin blade that was obviously Sorak in origin. The human ownership of it must have resulted in a grave insult to the spawn-clan that forged it. “Lovely isn’t it? There’s something about Sorak blades that even the best human artisan can’t capture” I fumbled the blade, dropping it to the surface of the ironwood desk. Turning, I stood face to face with Eli Steyne for the first time. Tall, lean, clad in a dark suit

NASTANZA Despite her appearance, the being known as Nastanza is neither human nor Asterian; she is an agent of something altogether more sinister. Accounts of her presence are few and far between, but those that exist each share one eerily similar observation: anyone who catches so much as a glimpse of Nastanza seems to be hollowed out, as though the emotion is stripped from their very soul. She is a solitary figure, a silent reaper, stalking across the galaxy shrouded in an impossibly advanced camoshield, taking pleasure in the pain she inflicts. She is a fable, a legend, whose tale is told by seasoned campaigners as they gather around watchposts. She is the invisible executioner, a precision shot and an expert head-hunter responsible for the murder of countless victims. She is the Twilight Huntress. Despite the mystery that surrounds her, Nastanza plies her trade among the stars like any other mercenary, and Nexus Psi is just one more lucrative contract on her list. Her enigmatic ways extend to the manner in which she deals with her clients, often appearing before them even before they’ve tried to contact her. She seems to know everything: the client’s problem, the target’s movements, and the appropriate price for the job. Those few who have declined her services soon discover that she has already entered into negotiations with the would-be target, and find themselves in a very precarious situation indeed. Travelling in a lightly armed fighter craft that hints at a larger vessel or substation she might call home, Nastanza will stalk her prey meticulously until the right moment, which often seems less to do with tactical advantage and more to do with some unknown system or pattern. Once she has executed her mark, she simply moves onto her next client. She is inevitable, a force of nature, and once she is on your trail the only option is to make your peace and accept your fate.

Nastanza’s exotic customised sniper rifle traces its origins back to the Asterian Starforges, though with several modifications: an enhanced visual receptor with nanomolecular interface, Corporationdeveloped reinforced armour casing to withstand the rigours of battle and a seemingly unique augmented power drive that gives the rifle almost unparalleled stopping power.

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that probably cost more than my annual income, he was the poster-boy for a whole generation of upcoming K&K execs. Dark grey eyes held my own for a long moment before he spoke again. “I was impressed with your handling of the Jonah Infraction. Netted us quite the tidy profit. Impressive, how you sold out the Rebs to the local governance straight after.” “It…it was an easy call. Tidy up the loose ends, keep us in the clear.” Steyne smiled, moving to the impressively stocked drinks cabinet in the corner of the office. “Mm yes, very tidy. And ending up with the Jonah coming over as well. Was that planned?” I considered lying, dismissing the idea as soon as it appeared. “No. That was ah...an unforeseen benefit.” The smile on Steynes face was genuine now, like I’d passed a test without knowing. He offered me a thick glass tumbler holding two fingers of malt liquor. “Mr Ander, let me talk to you about something called extraction….”

I staggered from the burning shell of the warehouse, crashing to my knees on the neocrete as the burning line through my gut brought me down. I could taste blood, and my nose was thick with the smell of scorched flesh. Looking down, I peeled my hand away from the bloody mess below my ribs. Rich dark blood flowed easily, pulling a moan from my lips as the pain flared deeper inside me. Pulling myself on with one arm, I crawled towards the rover, a slick of my own blood following me. I heard steady footsteps crunching behind me and turned to see the Enforcer there, framed by the raging flames of the warehouse. It was still, impassive, like a statue. Nothing about it suggested that it had just torn through the Sevens like a vengeful whirlwind, save the blood-slicked length of the sword extended from its left vambrace. Though I’d witnessed it all first hand, it wasn’t quite real, even now just fading into flashing impressions of violence, punctuated by roars of pain and anguish. The Marauders glee at smashing into the warehouse had been short lived, victorious hollering dying away as they’d seen the empty space stretching away from them. Ceiling mounted lights created pools of illumination, serving only to highlight the sheer emptiness of the warehouse as if mocking them with the utter lack of anything approaching a profit. A snarl from Grendyl sent the chaingun toting Seven and Callax further in, the last two Marauders venting their frustration by hacking into the prefab offices beside the doors. Grendyl had turned on me, rage simmering behind his bestial face. He didn’t need to ask, I was already rounding on Kayla.

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“What the hell is this Kay? Where is everything?” The Tebit was still in my hand, unconsciously coming up to point at her pale face. She was babbling again, nonsense words about the manifests and stock reports that she had seen. I took a step closer, flat of the Tebit blade against her face now, just under her eye. Fear of Grendyl and my own sick rage tightened my voice into a harsh whisper. “Have you sold us out, you little --” Before I could finish, the walls of the warehouse had erupted with flame, fire rushing along the pre-fab plate, blossoming across every surface. The surge of intense heat dragged the air from our lungs, driving us to our knees. Secondary explosions thundered at the rear of the warehouse, along with a firecracker sound that could only be the ammunition in the chaingun cooking off, the tell-tale zip of rounds spanking randomly around only adding to the threat. Grendyl was already up, bellowing his rage-filled challenge into the flames, arms spread wide in an animalistic threat-pose. Reis was twisting away from me, pulling us to the door framed in fire, our only hope of escape. Looking back, I saw something arc from the flames and hit Grendyl square in the chest, a blackened hunk of something that rolled to the ground between us. Charred and smoking, dreadlocks burnt away, it was still easy to recognise Callax. Something had sheared his head away from his neck in a single clean blow. His face was devoid for once of its trademark sneer, something approaching shock written across the slack features. Grendyl bellowed again, the remaining two Sevens flanking him and roaring their own challenges, long blades and heavy pistols held in firm grips. The fire was everywhere now, spreading across the floor in great swathes, following the now obvious spill patterns of accelerants. Thick smoke filled the air, choking Kayla and I but having little effect on the Marauders. When it came forth from the fire, the Enforcer moved with a dancers grace, calm and steady, assault blade already extended. It came to a halt a few paces from the Marauders and brought its blade up in greeting. Unleashed, the two Sevens charged as one, blades up and ready. The Enforcer moved too fast for me to see clearly, seeming to spin through and past both the Orx, blade held out to the side. Each of the Sevens just collapsed, like string-cut puppets, blood arcing clear of the falling bodies to land hissing in the raging flames. The Enforcer cocked its visored helm at Grendyl, in an unspoken challenge. Giving in to the beast inside, the Marauder chief roared, spit flying from tusked jaws, and leapt forward. His Hrunka slashed out like a viper’s tongue towards the Enforcer who brought its own slim blade up to parry. To give him his due, Grendyl lasted a few minutes longer than his clan-brothers. A veteran of countless wars, his first blows actually drove the Enforcer back before it recovered and launched a blistering counterattack. Blade-strokes flew quicker than Reis and I could follow, sparks flying where the forged metal touched. I nurtured a vague hope that Grendyl would last long

CHOVAR PSYCHIC

The Chovar are among the strangest sentient creatures encountered by the GCPS: intensely telepathic creatures that bear a striking resemblance to the jellyfish of Old Earth. They exist in a shared consciousness, but despite this (or possibly because of it) they are fiercely individualistic, constantly seeking out new cultures and technologies. Since their incorporation into the GCPS they are traditionally employed by corporations to witness important contracts, but are often sent to scientific outposts on Frontier worlds where their mindnetworks are capable of astounding computational feats without the need for fragile high-end equipment. In battle, Chovar Psychics are often employed to give squad leaders a tactical advantage, and they can be found among the ranks of everyone from Enforcers to Rebs. A Chovar bases its projections on pure science and statistical analysis, often giving observers the impression of supreme foresight, which is assumed to be the reason behind stories that they can see into the future. They are often seen as cold and calculating, overlooking the “human element” and accounting for chance simply as a percentage point, leading some particularly headstrong or emotional leaders to simply ignore the advice of a Chovar. Lieutenant Fillon of the Rebs Crew Agents of Mercy is famously critical of the Chovar, stating on-record that “fortune never favours a foregone conclusion”. In reality, only one thing is certain – the inclusion of a Psychic in a squad signifies it is perhaps the most important and dangerous mission a soldier will ever take part in. After all, only the Chovar really knows if they will ever come back. Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

Altimoses Not all Chovar Psychics use their abilities for the benefit of civilisation. One such being known simply as Altimoses was involved in numerous illicit activities, including drug smuggling, gun running, and the staging of illegal sports matches, including DreadBall games. His success in the criminal underworld was mainly down to his ability to pinpoint the patrol routes of the authorities and decipher the best routes for his shipments to take in order to avoid any unwanted attention. Altimoses evaded capture for many cycles, but it seemed the game was up when he was captured in a last-minute unplanned raid by a combined task force of Enforcers and several other Chovar Psychics. He was due to serve a life sentence in Perestia Prime Correctional Facility, but his prison ship was intercepted enroute by the Arma Blanca Cartel, a particularly effective group of Marauders. Who had paid them to break him free remains unclear, but the attempt was botched and ship spiralled out of control, eventually crash-landing on Nexus Psi. Now the fugitive Chovar has a private army, but that won’t mean much without an exit strategy. The Plague are closing in, and it won’t be long until they try and add this powerful psychic to their ranks…

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enough for me to get out and ran to the open doorway, shielding my face against the flames leaping all around me. Reis was forgotten, left somewhere behind me in the blaze. A bestial roar of pain made me turn at the ruptured entrance to the warehouse and I saw Grendyl’s huge frame on his knees, Hrunka lying a few feet away in an eerie recreation of our first meeting. As I watched, he fell slowly to one side, no effort made to arrest his fall. His head landed in the flames, flesh shrivelling and melting away under the heat. I had no idea where the Enforcer was until something lanced into my gut, a thin line of poly-steel transfixing me. Inches away, linked by the length of its blade inside my flesh, the Enforcer stood. In the polished, featureless visor, all I could see was my own pale face, reflected in the light of the raging flames all around. Long seconds passed, blessedly free of pain until the Enforcer stepped back, pulling the blade from me in one smooth motion. Agony, pulled forth on a tide of blood, took me to my knees. White hot pain coursed through me, cramping every muscle it touched. Vision greying, I say Reis bound up to the Enforcer, words of thanks on her lips and Lu-Fan credentials waved like a talisman in her hands. The blade flashed once in the firelight, and Reis’s head spiralled away, loose golden hair surrounding it like a halo. I clasped one hand over the seething hole in my guts, and staggered to the cold wet night of the Soak. That was how the Enforcer found me, on my back, looking at the stars with rain pooling in my eyes and nose. Blood soaked my clothes, plastering my hands in sticky crimson. I couldn’t move, couldn’t do much more than gasp up at the stars and feel my own life slipping away into the wet night of Nexus-Psi. Towering over me, the Enforcer stood at my head in silence. That impassive mask cocked to the side again, flecks of Reis’s blood already washing away in the rain. It raised its blade arm slowly and I hadn’t even the time to gasp “no” before it brought the sword flashing down and everything went dark.

There it was. Lu-Fan. Game over. I sat myself up, muscles protesting through the numbing haze at their sudden use. My fingers found the wound in my gut, now just a gnarled ridge of scar-tissue. I risked a smile. “I’m sorry, you have me at a disadvantage here…” “My name is Naomi Solon, Mr Ander. I represent Lu-Fan’s interests on Nexus-Psi, specifically their corporate security interests. Or rather, I did when it still mattered.” She smiled, and I got the feeling I’d missed the joke. My mouth was suddenly dry. “I say thank you, as you solved two particular issues for us and allowed Lu-Fan to remain beyond reproach. The use of Marauders was a particularly impressive touch.” Suddenly it all fell into place. Reis’s lack of knowledge about a warehouse she supposedly managed. The increased security when nothing was held inside. “It was a set-up wasn’t it?” I wet my lips, continued. “You used me to clean your own house of a suspect exec and write off the liquidation.” Solon nodded, a tight movement that spoke of a rigid self-control, the kind learned through years of civilised boardroom conflict management. “Indeed. We had our doubts about Kayla Reis for several years, but were not sure how much of our interests she had sold on. You provided the opportune method to evaluate how far her disloyalty went.” I recognised that look – it spoke to the same emotion I’d felt all those years before in that office. “And the Enforcer?” “Let’s just say that was a happy coincidence. A lot more was happening on Nexus Psi than we had anticipated, and you just missed it. You’re a lucky man, Mr Ander. Lucky that you didn’t die from your wounds, and even luckier that we got you off-world before that was no longer an option.” My head was fuzzy, and her words weren’t making sense. “So… what now? What do you want with me?”

I woke to soft lights and cool sheets on my skin. A warm numbness in my veins spoke of high-end opiates, and I could feel the vague itch of dermal patches on my flesh. “Welcome back, Mr Ander. Good to see you awake finally.” The voice was feminine, refined and controlled. She sat on a plain chair in the corner of the room, slender frame accentuated by a dark cotton suit cut in the typical high exec fashion. Pale brown skin was framed by midlength black hair in a style calculated very carefully to look messy and thrown-together. Her appearance suggested her to be in her late thirties, but looks were never a true indicator of age among the elite. “I have to say, you gave us quite the opportunity on Nexus-Psi. On behalf of Lu-Fan, I would like to thank you.” 60 - NEXUS PSI

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She smiled again, the predatory smile of a born hunter. “You, Mr Ander? You have proven yourself to be extremely resourceful and capable. Lu Fan has expended no little money and effort to bring you here alive. We’re sure you appreciate our efforts, and would like nothing more than a chance to repay us. We would like to offer you a job...” She paused, letting it sink in, before continuing. “…in Extractions.”

THE HELFATHER The business enterprises of the Forge Fathers require vast armies to operate across the Star Realm’s frontiers. The resources and manpower at the disposal of their rulers allow vast private armies in addition – and so when the members of the upper echelons of Forge Father society commit to the battlefield they are protected by an elite soldiery. Despite the buying power afforded by Shadrek Mal-Raz’s majority stake in the Furnace Valley, he is currently operating alone. His wealth is obvious from his uniquely-customised Aesir armour and his signature Xerxes Cannon – but he operates on Nexus Psi without an entourage. The Mal-Drez dynasty had established itself through several centuries of stripping back the orebodies of the gombiky – extra-solar planets passing near their space. These rogue planets come from an earlier galactic age, and so are fantastically rich in the heavier elements and are almost-always lifeless. Regarded as giant, spherical treasures the word gombiky has also passed into Forge Father language as the name of the priceless spherical beads worn as jewellery. Some of the wealthiest Forge Father dynasties have become so by searching deep in the galaxy for these planets. Outside of solar systems their accurate detection is still beyond the bounds of the Corporation scientists.

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Shadrek was dispatched to Nexus Psi to oversee the construction of a gravitational micolensing station in the rapidly developing area of Corporation space. Ostensibly a navigation station funded by the dummy coporation FurnVal, the facility was secretly intended to widen the Forge Father search for wealth, with the secondary objective of putting them one-step ahead of the Corporation. To avoid the suspicion of a Dwarf minor noble visiting a humble relay, Shadrek and his Clanhold bodyguard prepared to travel disguised as a FurnVal tech team. Approaching their final jump, Gorsch drop-rigs communicated to the FurnVal party an unusual level of intelligence chatter on the planet. Rumours of Corporation agents active troubled Mal-Drez, and he replaced his warriors with a genuine, (and more importantly multi-racial) tech team from the FurnVal space station. Though useless in a fight, they were able to flawlessly lie that his Aesir armour was a reactor protection suit when questioned at the Corporationcontrolled landing points. Paranoia got Shadrek to Nexus Psi. But now there’s a Plague outbreak, will it prove his undoing?

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THE SURVIVOR In his former life, The Survivor was Slobodan Chovyek, a genetic technician working for the Spiczak Corporation who was drafted to join an expedition to Usiah, where an Artefact had been discovered by a group of miners. Not every victim of the Plague reacts to the virus in the same manner. As Chovyek’s colleagues succumbed to the ravages of infection, dying in seconds or mutating into horrifying beasts, he alone was untouched. He expected them to turn on him, tear him limb-from-limb, but the nightmarish creatures simply ignored him. What came next were the worst days of his life. He followed in the wake of the Plague, hoping to find anyone left alive in the charnel house that had once been Ginzu City. He was about to give up hope when he spotted a fellow survivor and followed him to a hidden safe-house in the basement of an Almar Interplanetary holding station. They were wary at first, refusing to let him in as they couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t infected. He gradually convinced them that he was clear, and that a scientist with his expertise would be a very useful person to add to their number, and they finally threw open the door. After a shaky start, he was welcomed with open arms. Almost half of the survivors were gravely wounded, lying in a makeshift triage station manned by a small team of medical workers. It turned out that the survivor Chovyek had initially seen had been trying to make a run to a nearby Mazon Labs med-station, hoping to pick up bloodpacks, but had been unsuccessful. Every healthy candidate from among the group had already donated as much as they could, but it was not enough. Chovyek didn’t wait for them to ask; he rolled back his sleeve and asked them where he needed to be.

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What followed was utter carnage. Although he was somehow immune to the Plague’s effects, it still thrived in his bloodstream, waiting for a chance to be transferred to a new host. Three men had been infected before the first began to writhe and convulse, mutating before their eyes. The medical team were the first to die, but at the end, Chovyek was once again the sole survivor. As the creatures he had created fled the confines of the basement to join their kin, he realised the true horror of his condition. He took up a scalpel, meaning to end his life there and then, but he was interrupted by a soothing voice that seemed to come from nowhere. He listened to its words, the razor-sharp blade in his hand trembling. The voice faded away. After a moment’s silence, he nodded slowly and carefully placed the scalpel back on the instrument tray. He understood. He had so much to do. From that day, Slobodan Chovyek was no more. He is now The Survivor, a mysterious stranger who has never been seen outside of a fully enclosed Hazardous Environment Suit. What his new-found purpose actually is has never been fully clear; only he knows, but he has been strangely silent since he escaped Usiah. In any case, he seems to have made it his business to follow tales of Artefact discoveries. Whether he’s trying to find a cure – or simply further the cause of the Plague – remains to be seen…

BOOMER Boomer’s odious habits and utter lack of personal hygiene are gaggingly obvious from several metres away. Few would socialise with him voluntarily without some pressing incentive; thankfully, he is spared a lonely life by his undoubted skills with explosives and encyclopaedic knowledge of grenades. What’s also obvious from the briefest of encounters with him is that he is completely insane, and whilst somewhat worrying in an explosives specialist most commanders assume that one follows from the other fairly naturally and so accept his foibles to use of his skills. In terms of who he is and where he came from, nobody’s asked. Boomer probably had a real name at one point; probably had a family, clan or other group to which he felt allegiance. Maybe people even liked him. Who can tell? These days he is nothing more nor less than an expendable asset who hires his not inconsiderable skills out to anyone who can pay the exorbitant fees (and stand his presence for more than five minutes). It’s working out well for him – certainly, he’s never short on clients.

Hobgoblins Unlike their close cousins the Orx and Goblins, Hobgoblins were not drafted into the Council’s service by General Klimt, though there were many who still got caught in the crossfire following the Mandrake Uprising. Forced to pick a side, they almost unanimouslyMarauders. Hobgoblins are bad-tempered, foul little creatures, which is a constant thorn in the side of Goblins across the galaxy as most outsiders struggle to tell the difference between the two. Most tales of Goblins being abhorrently sneaky, desperately petty and more than a little light fingered are usually aimed at Hobgoblins. They do have their uses, however. With a natural ability for the mechanical, they often work as highly capable engineers on Marauder assault vehicles, space craft and larger artillery weapons. Of course, rivalry between crews (and even within them) is rife, and it doesn’t take much goading for them to become embroiled in a fight. Those that didn’t rebel along with the Orx can often be found in spaceports selling black-market goods, or acting as backstreet book-keepers, loan sharks and swindlers. By the time the authorities turn up they are cunning enough to be long gone, stowing away in the cargo hold of an outgoing hauler or transport and heading to some distant planet elsewhere in the galaxy. Such is the life of a Hobgoblin on the road.

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BLAINE It’s been said that Blaine has a face that only a mother could love, though in his case even that seems doubtful. According to the legends surrounding him, his first crime was to murder his family and burn down the family home. Certainly nobody claims him as kin. That’s just asking for trouble.

who finally captured him on Deskin 4 support the idea that he has some inbuilt enhancements. Those that have seen the security vid of his breakout are even more sure. Unfortunately all the actual witnesses died in the escape and all we have is degraded and partly jammed video files. That was the last confirmed sighting.

Whether this is true or not is anyone’s guess as he has surgically changed his appearance a number of times and the Blaine you see now is as much a result of reconstructive medicine as nature. Even his true race is the subject of some debate.

He has since been reported in a wide variety of places, fighting alongside any number of different factions. None of these sightings have been reliably corroborated and he always slips away in the confusion of combat, invariably leaving a bloody wake of maimed and dead in his path. He seems to prefer the close kill and the fact that he manages this against even highly sophisticated enemies such as Forge Fathers and Enforcers is a testament to his extraordinary skills of stealth and evasion.

One of Blaine’s many peculiarities is his DNA: he’s got more than one profile. This isn’t possible naturally, which implies that Blaine has had more than cosmetic surgery done to alter his appearance. Certainly reports of his combat abilities and the arrest report of those

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FREYA OERLIKON Freya Oerlikon served in the Forge Father military as a logistic support pilot on tours of the Nethyr Edge.  Trained and experienced across the whole arsenal of vehicles, aircraft and spaceships, she was one of the many cogs that kept the engine of war running smoothly in the theatre of battle. Although ztoo nervy to serve as a front-line Firewyrm or Roskilde pilot, she was happy to undertake the occasional duty on the front line.   Reaching the post of supervising chargehand at the time of the Kellng Walk occupation, Freya resigned her commission after it was announced that the battalion was to be garrisoned there permanently. Piloting skills are always in high demand in trading cultures, and Freya set herself up as a contract pilot through her network of military contacts. Though only able to perform basic repairs to hardware by Forge Father standards, Freya was regarded as a technical marvel in GCPS territory.  Able to bypass some of the limiters that Forge Father designers build in to tech destined for other cultures, Freya found herself in demand for her mechanic abilities as much as her piloting. Any ship she worked on gained a subtle edge over its untampered counterparts and her reputation quickly grew.  Freya accepted a charter to extract research materials from Nexus Psi on behalf of the ExoChild Corporation, lured by an upfront fee so generous she could purchase a restored Firesteel-class light freighter.  The ship was a classic Forge Father design capable of crossing the gulfs of space with only a minimal crew to make quick planetary landings. Originally designed to deliver military supplies during the second wave of an invasion, decommissioned Firesteels have proved popular with smugglers who cannot, for obvious reasons, use space ports to drop off goods. Slipping past Nexus Psi’s blockade was a challenge for Freya, but after a few days studying the Enforcer ship patterns she had identified several holes created after the besieging craft inexplicably shifted to geostationary orbits.  The ExoChild package was found in the Reiker City cargo facility, along with the remains of two ExoChild contracters who she deduced had been previously sent to recover the cargo. In the shadows, a third Plague-infected smuggler had been banking on a further retrieval attempt – an opportunity to spread the contagion off-planet. Waiting until she was loading her ship hold to strike, the 3S slashed at Freya with its distended talons. Only Freya was prepared, and unloaded a clip of Hailstorm ammuniiton from her compact pistol. Quickly sealing the hold she took off, panicked and keen to break orbit as quickly as possible. The upper-stage engines of the retreating Firesteel exploded in a hail of laser fire. Far more vigilant on traffic leaving the surface than arriving, Enforcer interceptors had crippled her ship with brutal efficiency. Freya screamed in rage as she tumbled planetward, hoping her ship could clear the city limits before crashlanding.

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Most of the Enforcers of Nexus Psi were diverted from standard patrol forces, but other groups were brought in as the conflict continued. Elements from Red Division, a specialist Enforcer unit with considerable experience in the Arklyte Cluster, were brought in to deal with concentrated numbers of Plague victims for whom the infection had not fully taken root. These “zombies” had overtaken several Outposts, and were proving to be a serious impediment to regular strike teams.

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... Lost assets exceed parameters…

… Retrieval Teams Dispatched … When Explore / Retrieve team Six-Alpha set out to recover a strange alien artefact from the surface of Nexus Psi, they never realised what horrors they would unleash. Their lines of escape cut off by the merciless Council of Seven, they were left to fend for themselves against the ever-growing forces of the Plague. Now that the initial wave has died down, new arrivals have begun to flock to the devastated planet. Enforcer dropships dispatch troops to the surface, each Strike Team tasked with the advancement of the Council’s hidden agenda. The foot-soldiers of the Rebellion come to the surface in battered transports, looking to recover antyhing they can from the ruins of the once thriving frontier world. Finally there are the Marauders, space-faring mercenaries fulfilling salvage contracts for employers unknown…

This book contains: -

Campaign Rules – a new system for playing a series of linked games between one player controlling the Plague and an opponent controlling a different faction.

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Battlezone: Nexus Psi – a guide to the world on which the campaign is set, including the events that led to the Plague outbreak.

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Faction Focus – background information on Deadzone’s four primary factions: The Enforcers, the Plague, the Rebs and the Marauders.

You will require a copy of the Deadzone rulebook to use the material in this supplement.

www.manticgames.com

Product Code Barcode ISBN

Matthew McDonald (order #5652513)

MGDZM11-1 5060208866469 978-0-9569945-9-2