The Rhinomedary Squad

[Corsair]

Hidden deep within an asteroid, a fleet of rusty ships in various state of disrepair were torn apart. Their components were recycled and put to new use. When all of the derelict ships were removed, a group of new ships took their place. They weren't rusty or broken down, but they had the scars of many battles, and several parts had been replaced. They all had red skulls painted on their sides. The only ships that could be seen were Rhinos and Dromedaries. Two seemingly harmless civilian freighters. As the freighters touched down in their new base, and their cockpits opened, horrible figures emerged.

While they had once been human, now they were grotesque abominations. They towered at seven feet tall, and their bodies had developed so much muscle that they slouched like gorillas. Their skin was a deep green, and their numerous scars were white. Metal armor clung to them, most of it made from starship hull debris. Their beady black eyes scanned the area, looking for useful materials. The largest of these creatures muscled his way towards the asteroid base's control center. He was especially ferocious. He bellowed orders at his comrades.

"Wot's dis? Yew lot are all jus' standin' around like sods'a clay! Get yer arses movin', dere's not enough loot fer everybody!"

That motivated his crew to move. They began to search the area, looking for anything that they could use as a weapon, or weld to their armor or their ship. The leader of these creatures crossed the floor of the asteroid's hangar, and located a gray door. With one kick, he smashed through the metal and forced his way inside. It was dark, and he drew a flare from his belt and lit it. The room was illuminated by a gloomy red light. He saw an insignia on the far wall, 'NTF'. He didn't know or care who they had been; they weren't here now and this base belonged to him. His huge mouth warped into a bestial grin as he looked back and saw his flotilla hard at work at converting the place into a livable base.

The leader sat in one of the chairs in the room, but it was crushed under his weight. He dropped to the ground with an angry grunt. He had just gotten to his feet when one of his cronies came in.

"Warboss Zogba," he began, "Dere's been a lot of shootin' 'ere. Whoever built 'dis place got shot up by 'dem Liberty Naver humies." Zogba grunted. He picked some grit out of his eye. "'Dis ain't gonna be our home base. 'Dis is just an outpost. We's gonna find a better place."

The crony nodded and backed out. Zogba looked around him, and the all-too-familiar rage built up in him as he recalled just how he got to this point.

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