With Ospreys landing on the beach at about 4:30 AM, and troop transports carrying those that had just been on the cargo planes to the shore from the aircraft carriers about an hour later, the total force of about 50,000 stormed into the humid grasslands and swamps that looked so similar to most of Myroria. It was not long before a company of troops, numbered about 150, were the first to stumble upon a native settlement. They were living in yurts, mostly the same size besides one that was slightly bigger than the rest. The company's CO ordered them to spread out as quietly as they could to surround the encampment, but just as the circle was almost complete, a man outside looked up. He saw the glimmer of a soldier's glasses. He yelled in a language the soldiers could not understand, some other men came out with spears, and all hell broke loose. Shouts from the natives intermingled with the loud booms of G36s. Most had spears crafted from local rocks and metals, but some had aquired rifles and handguns. By the end, 89 were dead. 32 soldiers, and 57 natives. The soldiers moved in on the terrified women and children. Some, who had lost friends, wanted to set the yurts on fire. The CO, however, put a stop to that. By 9:00 that night, the company set camp. They pushed the natives from the two or three in each one - about halfway capacity - to full capacity in each empty one. The yurts were now for the soldiers, and this village was now called Yale.
