Supreme Copmmander Goob
|You will respect my Athoriah!|
One-time Commander-now-turned-Outcast squad leader Goob and his squad quailed within the seat harnesses of the orbital dropship. The ship bucked and bounced down through the turbulent atmosphere and wildly inaccurate anti-orbital defenses. This was Goob's first combat drop without the comforting protection of a battle suit. Not that it mattered much after a lucky hit to the starboard engine array sent the ship into a terminal nosedive! Goob and his unit were part of the 'expendable first wave' which naturally consisted entirely of Outcast units. His now-doomed shuttle carried four full squads, and it seemed their contribution would be nothing more than to leave a crater upon this world's surface!
A few months prior, Ghar reconnaissance had discovered a small Feral Freeborn colony on a forgotten backwater of a planet and launched an assault to eliminate it with extreme prejudice! Whilst a low ranking squad leader such as Goob was given little-to-no information about their target, he did overhear at least this world's designation: 10-E-C. It didn't sound like much, but at least he knew the where he was going to die...
Only a month ago he was second in command of an elite battle suit strike force which had been engaged with the accursed Boromites. His superior officer made a tactical oversight of lethal consequences that lead to both his death as well as most of the Ghar force. Defeat was total. As the senior-most surviving officer, Goob had shouldered all of the blame though the fault was not his own (an irrelevance to upper command) and was demoted to the rank of an outcast! Goob understood that his new, loathsome life of shame would be short, but as mountainous views zipped past the viewport at an impossible angle, he was horrified of just how brutally short it really would be!
|I can't help but think that|
it looks like he''s wearing
and armored diaper!
Hours passed before Goob opened his eyes within his cracked helmet, dangling limp and upside down in his restraining harness. He was alive-yes, but his whole body was in pain, though more from the violence of the crash than any kind of mortal injury. Unclipping the the harness he dropped clumsily onto a mewling outcast from his squad who was trapped beneath some debris. Ignoring the wretch and moving out of the wreckage and onto the scorched ground of 10-E-C, Goob took stock of his situation. The flight crew valiantly managed to pull the ship's nose up at the last second but their efforts were for naught. The dropship had been torn asunder upon impact and pieces of smoldering hull and the pitiful, broken bodies of it's occupants were scattered all about in all directions.
'They will not come for us' he thought. 'Not for Outcasts, Outcasts deserve nothing but death…'
Despite his pain, as far as Goob could tell, he'd suffered no permanent damage to his body, and on regaining his senses he limped back into the wreck. Picking up a lugger gun, he put those few other unfortunates who survived out of their misery. Several dazed outcasts looked as though they may have survived the crash as well as Goob had, but a few well placed lugger rounds later and he was satisfyingly alone.
|An overhead view of this grubby|
little bastard's noggin and the
terrain of his new homeworld.
Moving as quickly as his pained body would allow, he gathered what supplies he could find and stockpiled them in the largest, most intact piece of wreckage left-the tail section. He had shelter (of a sort), lugger guns-nearly a dozen of them and more ammo than any one Outcast ought to have access too! Clothing, rations (both fresh meat from the dead and ration packs), lumen strips and battery packs, but no medical kit. In the latter case Goob was unsurprised, such was an Outcast's lot. However on discovering a small stream the following day which gave him access to water, Goob's life it seemed had taken a sudden turn for the better!
Following their inevitable (and quick) victory the Ghar fleet broke orbit intent to abandon the 10-E-C's solar system. The isolated world held no strategic or tactical value to the Ghar. It served only to fuel their pathological need to exterminate humanity via it's small, feral human population. The fleet never bothered to search for the downed shuttle or it's expendable cargo. Little did the departing fleet know (or care) that they left behind a survivor:
A former commander. An outcast.
In the years following, gripped by the madness resulting from mild but lingering brain damage resulting from the crash, and his endless isolation, Goob would come to believe that the Ghar fleet had (inadvertently, but that's no matter) restored his honor. Knowing himself to be the the last, and by default the highest ranking Ghar left on the planet. He declared himself to be:
Supreme Commander Goob, Planetary Ruler of 10-E-C!