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Table · (06-06-2014)

They told us everything would be fine.

In the year 2531, Earth was a sprawling empire spanning most if not all of their known universe after either annexing or crushing the other alien races that previously inhabited the lands they sought to take. However, years of constant warring and the fear of alien retaliation dwindled the number of people willing to take up residence on the outermost colonies of the empire. One such colony was Ronus, a small planet which straddles the very border of known, charted space and the dark depths beyond. It is here that the attacks first began.

Where the first tables, fell.

Prybank, Capital of Ronus

It was a bustling day in the small colony's largest city; as hovercars whizzed slightly above the impeccable roads at high speeds and children played something vaguely resembling stickball in a park overlooking the road when a sudden wave of clouds rolled over the previously nice day and drenched everything in darkness. At first, the citizens chalked it up to just that: clouds. Something that would be here and gone in a matter of moments and paid little attention to the change. The children stopped however, as they wouldn't be able to find the ball in the cloud storm.

However, the sudden roar of engines up in the atmosphere alerted all that the situation wasn't so innocent.

Screams and shrieks from concerned citizens; parents looking for their children and people now speeding and ripping through traffic to find a hiding spot to wait out this attack filled the streets. Two of the hovervehicles collided with each other at an intersection and soon became a thirty car pile up that blocked the whole road. Everyone assumed it was the Dergawhergas; who had called this planet home before being driven out by the humans, but it wasn't.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"" asked Woody as he slid into one of the drop pods aboard one of the giant ships that were floating in the planet's atmosphere.

"OF COURSE!" he, or more accurately his evil split personality THE TABLE screamed back at him, pulling the door shut with his front legs. The pod was something small; barely big enough to fit himself alone and even then it was an uncomfortable fit. His edges collided against the sides of the pod and the engine problems the ship was facing caused him to jerk back and forth in the tube before coming to a complete standstill. A synthetic voice belonging to the ship's on board AI Cherry spoke through the craft's intercom system:

"Stand by. Five seconds."

"Four seconds."

"Three seconds."

If Woody could sweat, he would be.

"Two seconds."

"One second."

"All hands prepare for Tablefall."

Whoosh! The sound the pod made as the floor underneath it retracted into a small holding facility around it and gravity shoved it down and outside of the craft, falling towards the planet at breakneck speeds. Inside the pod, Woody felt trapped; suction cupped to the walls around him with prevented him from moving and allowed him to brace for impact, which occurred much sooner than he expected. Upon hitting the planet, the door busted open and shot off in the direction in front of it at damn near 50 miles per hour. Cautiously, Woody stepped out of the pod and set one of his sets of legs on the cold dirt in front of him.

He was the first Table to set foot on Ronus.

Meanwhile, in a smokey Colonial Guard Center, Markus Cuntavion was strapping on the last of his armor and slinging an assault rifle over his shoulder before shoving closed his locker and storming out of his quarters. Just in time to see fifteen pods identical to Woody's fall from the sky and land just outside the large one way window in the main room of the building. What was left of it, that is. Somewhere during the hysteria or the landing, debris flew into the window and shattered it into a million jagged shards that lined the floor. Not forgetting his training, Markus shoved over one of the wooden tables and took cover behind it as the first of the pods' doors popped open and out stepped...

A Table. A walking Table.

"What. The. Fuck?" he asked to no one as he peered out from the table to see an army of its brothers marching towards him, rifles and shotguns in leg.

"Yeah bitch, what ya gonna do about it?" asked the table he was hiding behind, slapping him in the face with its leg. A slap so powerful, it sent Markus sliding across the linoleum floor and into the wall. Shaking his head, he watched as the Table hopped up to its hind legs and began its march towards him.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he screamed, reaching for his gun which had been knocked out of his grasp.

"Yeah! Come at me motherfucker!" he screamed once more as he pulled the gun back to him and fired without aiming at the Table inches away from stomping his head into oblivion. The shots rang through the building and ripped through the table's flimsy wood. After a handful of rounds went in one end and out the other, the Table collapsed onto the ground, its legs gone limp.

"Come in, anyone?" Markus said into the radio on his shoulder. All he got in response was static.

"Come in?"

"Yeah, you copy. What's your status?"

"I don't even fucking know right now."

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