Cularin was beautiful. As soon as we landed I could tell I would have fun here. The entire system is quite attractive - yet mystic. It felt so unreal. Everything was different. The gravitational pull was faint, the vegetation beamed in luminous colors. This place had really begun to grow on me. Not only morally, but physically as well. When the LAAT/i Gunships had dropped the rest of Yankee Company off away from the LZ, the vegetation seemed to wrap around my leg. Creepy, but cute. This place is weird.
Nonetheless, we made it to the forward CP without encountering much trouble. My comm was being a little bastard, as I could make little from it due to the freaking static. I could tell that the rest of our troops weren't doing so well. They were dying. But they weren't being killed by droids - nor any other sentient being. They were being eaten by nightmarish monsters native to Cularin. Their blood-curling screams were more than enough to convince me to enter the forward Command Post.
The perimeter had been magnetically sealed. The rest of our troops might as well be cowering in fear across our walls, because we were all awaiting the efforts of JC-4991. Nonetheless, Yankee Company and I met up with another squad. Sergeant Amar'e and his boys had been running from something. He didn't have much to say, as he just slapped my shoulder and urged me to move on.
Seconds later I could tell what he was running from. Dua Wurms. We'd been warned about them in the briefing, but I had no idea they would be this frightening. One shot. It did nothing. Amar'e kicked me in the shin.
"C'mon! I'm not going to stay here and fight with you!"
"Heroes don't run."
"Cowards don't die."
He was smart. Blasters wouldn't kill these things.
It appears as if Cularin isn't too welcoming after all.
Mission 5.1 in the 457th Corps.