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| Trial By Fire; CCRPG Marines Compiliation II | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: 13 Nov 2008, 09:53 PM (1,125 Views) | |
| Wraith | 13 Nov 2008, 09:53 PM Post #1 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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OOC: For now, I will release only a "sneak preview." Hopefully, I will have time to at least write the rpologue tomorrow. IC: Alone. Erikson quickly darted his head around the pile of machinery, peering into the darkness that enveloped the abandoned, rusting warehouse. No enemies. Yet. This was it. He knew it. He would die here. He didn't know what had happened to the others. He's seen Bellik go down - dead for sure. That assassin - or whatever he was - had jumped on the Gunny. That had been the last thing he saw - Gunny Calahan had pushed him through the door with the Secretary, then the assassin had knocked him over and leapt upon him - and then there was a shriek of pain just as the door closed. Everyone was scattered. It was just him and the Secretary, in the middle of a hostile city. Everyone was trying to kill him and take her hostage. That was one of two ways this would end - that way, or they would both get out alive. That had been his charge, and that was what he would do. Erikson listened. Footsteps. Splashes. Someone was coming. He slowly raised his rifle and took aim. Just him and her in the middle of a hostile city. Alone. |
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| Wraith | 16 Nov 2008, 05:22 PM Post #2 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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PROLOGUE Belligerant, Euradis Vice Chancellor Garren von Kellerhoffen's armored convoy slowly snaked its way through the streets of the capital city of Euradis. These were dangerous times on Euradis, as the Katanese Resistance Front - vying for independence - made daily terrorist bombings and attacks against the planetary government throughout the entire planet. But this was a meeting Herr Kellerhoffen could not miss, as the Country Capital Confederation Ambassador was arriving to begin discussions with the rebels and planetary government. So now Herr Kellerhoffen sat in the rear compartment of one of the many unmarked armored cars, which in turn "guarded" the limosine flying the flags of Euradis on the hood. An entire squad of EPA soldiers sat in the compartment with him, as bodyguards. "Smoothly so far. Let's check," said the squad leader. "Mako Lead, this is Mako Head. SitRep? Over." "This is Mako Lead. All quiet on the western front, over." The squad leader chuckled. "Okay. You better let me know if-" "Wait! Two incoming cars! SPEED UP! SPEED-" There was an explosion at the head of the column. The armored car lurched forward, speeding up, so as to avoid the ambush kill zone. "This is Mako Head! SitRep, NOW!" The radio crackled to life. There were many gunshots and explosions sounding from the other end. "Mako Head, get out of here with Falcon One and Head Actual! We are under-" There was static, and several gunshots. "Respond, Mako! Over" "We are under heavy attack. Jesus! Suicide Car closing, two o'-!" There was a large explosion, and the radio went dead. The ground shook, rumbling from the explosion behind. "Mako Head Helm, this is Mako Head. What the hell is going on? Over!" "This is Helm! We're clear of the kill zone, with Falcon One and Mako Tail! We are proceeding via Route Bravo One-Six, over!" "Roger that! Keep moving, out!" The squad leader exhaled heavily and leaned back in his seat. "Well, that was way too close. Mr. Vice President, I sure hope this meeting is worth it." Herr Kellerhoffen nodded. Click It was unmistakable. The squad leader was already raising his rifle when the armored car was engulfed in flame, erupting into a fireball from inside. Even the most trusted of military personnel on Euradis could no longer be trusted. OOC: Pin this, please |
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| Wraith | 17 Nov 2008, 10:21 PM Post #3 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER I Bessan "This isn't gonna be fun, guys," Captain Ryan said, addressing the company. Many of the men groaned. "Quiet in the ranks!" First Sergeant "Cow" Maxwell bellowed. "But it's necessary. However, I suppose it would be fun if in any other place. Over the next week, we will be conducting a large-scale war game throughout the FIST. Several companies of Marines will be designated as "regulars," and will be granted full air and artillery support to root out the other, outnumbered companies, designated as "guerillas." This company is part of the "regular" forces. The company groaned again, this time as one. "Silence! Quit flippin' yer faceholes or you will be talkin' out the other when I'm through with ya!" Cow bellwoed again. "Thank you, Cow," Ryan said halfheartedly. "Yes, I know we aren't too fond of the term 'regular' since Volut. We all lost friends there, and we don't plan on letting something like that happen again. But we must integrate these replacements into our company, test their mettle, their training. Platoon Commanders, take control of your platoons! Comp'ny, dis-MISSED!" ----------------------------------------- In the campaign on Volut, First Platoon had gotten off with relatively light casualties - only three Marines. But those were still three good Marines, and it would hard to replace them with any new boots. Third Squad, under Staff Sergeant Ben Thamus, had been hit the hardest - losing Lance Corporal Dole and PFC Moranus. The third dead man was PFC Marlow, of Second Squad, under Staff Sergeant Steven Lee. First Squad, under Staff Sergeant Alex Synair, had, luckily, suffered no casualties. Then there was the matter of the numerous wounded men suffered throughout the campaign. Gunnery Sergeant "Wraith" Calahan had been shot three times in the torso at point-blank range, and those wounds had been reopened during the final, desperate fight at the end of the campaign. He was still hospitalized. Sergeant "Lundy" Lundhorn had nearly lost his legs when the belfry he had occupied was destroyed by a high-explosive tank shell. He was also hospitalized. Now, First Sergeant Maxwell was to introduce the new men to the platoon. Three men were lined up at perfect attention before the platoon on the company parade ground. Cow constantly made motions with his hands as he described them. He was eccentric. "Okay, First Herd! We've got five new guys to fit into your platoon, so listen up!" "Five? But we only have-" "Shut up and listen! Okay, this big guy here," Cow moved over to a burly man, with lance corporal's stripes. "is Lance Corporal Danny McAllister. He's got one enlistment under his belt - embassy duty. But, before you judge him - it was on Maxfrica." Many of the men in the platoon chuckled. "Yeah, worst place to have embassy duty. Anyways, he was promoted to Lance Corporal after an attack on the embassy, and was transferred into a real Marine's billet after he re-enlisted. He's replacing Lance Corporal Dole in Sergeant McGraw's team. Take him, Ben." Staff Sergeant Thamus nodded. Cow walked over to the next two men. "These two, as you can see, are shiny new boots! You can still smell the polish! They are PFCs Baylor and Barrett. Sergeant Roland gets Baylor, and Sergeant Garnett gets Barrett." Sergeants Jamie Roland and Jason Garnett nodded. "Now, our last two men are waiting inside the barracks over there. Oi! Come on out!" Gunnery Sergeant Calahan and Sergeant Lundy walked out of the barracks administration building. Gunny Calahan was expressionless, except for his eyes rolling. Lundy looked like he was searching for the nearest wall to bang his head against. "Now, these guys are your new platoon sergeant and fire team leader, Gunnery Sergeant Jack Calahan and Sergeant Martin Lundhorn!" Cow had a big, stupid grin on his face, clearly pleased with himself. Lundy slapped his face with his palm. There was only silence, except for a cough. Then someone spoke up. "Not funny, Cow!" Cow's grin vanished. "Aw, shuddup. You guys've got no sense of humor," Cow turned to Wraith. "Anyways, Platoon Sergeant, the platoon is yours. I'll show myself out." Wraith nodded, and Cow walked away. "Pla-TOON, atten-SHUT!" The platoon snapped to attention. "Remember to visit the quartermaster to fit your rifles with simunitions for tomorrow's war game! New Marines, I wish to speak with you. Pla-TOON, fall out!" The platoon formation distentigrated, except for the three new Marines, who approached Wraith. "Lance Corporal McAllister, you have some experience with camp life, so you don't need to hear this. Fall out, and remember to see the QM for simunitions." "Yes, Gunnery Sergeant!" McAllister saluted, then left. "As for you two, I need to brief you on this platoon. We are First Platoon, the FIRST and BEST platoon in Company D, the BEST company in the FIST. You can call it bravado, but everyone knows it's true. So listen up!" Wraith started pacing. "Your fire team leaders will tell you about camp life in a lot more detail, but I want you to hear this first. I am VERY strict about discipline in this outfit, especially on liberty. You will hear me talk about my 'Rules of Engagement' a lot, or the men will. Most are about combat, some are about procedure, and some are about camp life. One of the most important of the latter rules is this: Rule #28: Drink on liberty, not on duty. If I ever catch youdrinking or drunk on duty, you will be bleeding and crying on the ground, and Ensign Glystern won't shed a tear. "On liberty: We have liberty on base during the evening and nights on weekdays, starting at eighteen-hundred. Over the weekends, we have off-base liberty at the same time, out in Camptown. Go see the races, or something. Most of the guys go to The Hard Place, a bar and whorehouse for the enlisted men and lower NCOs. I myself sometimes go to The Rock - shut UP, Private Baylor! - with the other higher NCOs. Now, my number-one rule concerning off-base liberty - absolutely no brawling, or I'll teach you a thing or two about it. I don't care if the current barkeep at The Hard Place allows it or even encourages it - there will be NO injured Marines on liberty in MY platoon. Am I clear?" Baylor nodded. "Yes, sir!" said Barrett. "Private Barrett, I am a Gunnery Sergeant, and I expect to be called such. We NCOs do the manual labor, get shot at, get shot. Hence the phrase, 'I work for a living.' The sooner you get used to that, the sooner you'll start fitting in. Understood?" "Yes, Gunnery Sergeant!" "Good. Remember to visit the QM for simunitions. Report back into formation for evening chow and flag ceremony. Tomorrow we head off south for the war games. Privates, dis-MISSED!" |
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| Wraith | 18 Nov 2008, 07:26 PM Post #4 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER II Bessan, Tropical Sector, Grid Charlie November "Okay ladies, listen up!" Lieutenant "Red" Bandon's voice boomed, addressing the company. "Captain Ryan will be observing, so I will be in command of the company for this exercise. Now, look at your HUDs! A holomap of our operational area has been uploaded onto them!" Red's helmet projected a large-scale display of the holomap. "This is a seek and destroy op - find the guerillas, and kill them. Platoon commanders, platoon AOs are color-coded for your convenience! Be wary, be alert, be vigilant! This area is a thick swamp, with many places for the guerillas to set ambushes! Platoon sergeants, brief any new men on the use of simunitions! Platoon commadners, on me for briefing packets! We move out in three-zero mike, so haul ass!" ----------------------------------------- "Okay, lads. Simunitions. Very simple to understand. Look just like normal rounds, load like 'em, sound like 'em, but aren't 'em. No VR for field training training, so lights or sensors like in the old days. Get hit by these, they hurt. Simunitions deliver a slight shock on impact, and your vests amplify it depending on the lethality of the wound. If you're 'dead,' then it's lights out. You're unconcious. Simple. Understand?" Calahan droned. Barrett, Baylor, and McAllister nodded. "Good. Sit around and wait for the move." ------------------------------------------- Ensign Kurt "Ares" Glystern and his four fellow platoon commanders gathered around the company executive officer, who was handing out the briefing packets. "Okay, kids, take a quick looksie. This may be a war game, but we still follow SOPs. These burn when we're done." Ares nodded and flipped through to "intel" on First Platoon's area of operations. Confirmed two squad guerilla presence, estimate full platoon, he read. "Aw, hell. Why do I always get the hardest assignments?" Ares complained. "Because you're the most experienced platoon leader, Ares. Quit bitchin'." Ares sighed. Objective is village at Grid Charlie Hotel Seven-Two. Unconfirmed presence of guerilla weapons caches. Civilians present. Avoid civilian casualties, Ares groaned loudly. "Shut it, Ares," Red checked the time. "Get to your platoons. Choppers arrive in oh-five mike for loading and insertion." ------------------------------------------ "Man, what the fuck is with the Brigadier?" PFC Isaiah "Izzy" Ballard whined. "Sending us to do training in a swamp?" "Shut up, Izzy. Be thabnkful you ain't building a castle out here," snapped Lance Corporal Heinrich Selucis. "Yeah. It'd probably sink," Corporal Matthew "Deadhead" Lashio chuckled. "Shut it, Marines!" barked Sergeant Samuel McKnight, their fire team leader. "Two minutes out! Load 'n' lock!" There were two dozen clanks as the Marines in the chopper cocked their rifles. "LZ in sight. Prepare for descent...descending," the pilot's cool, calm voice monotoned over the intercom. The Marines grabbed handholds as the chopper suddenly jerked towards the ground at high speed. Within five seconds, it snapped to a stop, hovering above the clearing. "OFF! OFF NOW!" Gunny Calahan bellowed, dropping the five feet to the ground. Cracks started snapping from the surrounding woods immediately. Izzy yelped as he and Deadhead dropped out of the chopper. Two more Marines still in the troop bay groaned. "Fuckin' A'! I'm hit!" Izzy shouted as he hit the ground, on his back. "Damn it! It won't lemme move!" "I gotcha, Izzy! Hang on!" Dead head shouted. he grabbed his teammate by the collar and dragged him to the edge of te clearing, where Gunny Calahan was directing fire. "Two tangoes, eleven o' clock! Wolf, fire!" "Medic!" "Jason and Bellik got hit in the chopper!" "Damn! This is Hotel Four-Two, we're takin' heavy damage! I'm outta here!" "Roger that, Four-Two!" The hovercopter roared off. "Delta Six, this is Delta One-Five! We've got a situation here, over!" "Go ahead, One-Five, over," came Red's voice. "Two Kilo, many Whiskey! Request Hammer Six, over!" "Roger that, patching you through." "This is Hammer Six, over." "Hammer, this is Delta One-Five! Request support at Grid Charlie Delta Six-Four! Friendlies marked by IR strobe, over!" Wraith gestured to Staff Sergeant Thamus, who activated an infrared identification strobe. "Roger that, Delta. Hammer Two is en route. Out." Wraith activated his 'All Hands' channel. "Heads up, marines! Hammers are incoming!" Everyone quickly found the nearest cover and hugged the ground. Moments later, a Demon hovercopter gunship screamed overhead, "flattening" the tree covered slope with simunition Hellspawn missiles, then raking it with its vulcan cannon. No more fire came from the hill. "Delta One-Five, this is Hammer Two. I think we got 'em all, over." "Roger that, Hammer Two. We owe you a beer at The Rock." The gunship pilot chuckled. "Too bad I go to the O-Club, then. See ya around, Delta. Out." The hovercopter roared away. Wraith stood up to survey the scene. It was totally silent, except for the animals singing and chirping. That was a good sign. "Delta One-Six, this is One-Five. Lima Zulu is secure. Come on in, over." "Roger that, One-Five, Good work. Out." Wraith turned to the twenty Marines now rising around him. "Goldstein! Tend to the wounded! We move out when Ares arrives!" |
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| Wraith | 18 Nov 2008, 08:56 PM Post #5 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER III Gah! Damn it! Fucking Hell!" Deadhead swore. He yanked his boot out of another mud pit. "And they had us clean our gear first? Maybe Izzy wasn't just bitching after all." "God damn it! Shut yer hole!" McKnight whispered. There was a gasp and a splash behind them. Everyone, startled, spun around and focused their attention at the sound immediately. "Aw, SHIT! You gotta be fuckin' kid-" "Shut up, Joe! Shut UP!" Sergeant Cody "Wolf" McGraw whispered, cutting off Corporal Joseph Baldwin mid-swear. "Christ, Baldy. You scared the hell outta me," Deadhead muttered. "Shut up and move!" McKnight whispered. "Selucis, keep point." "Roger," Selucis continued his slow creep over the bog, listening intently for any man-made sound. It was hot as hell. Selucis wiped the sweat from his brow and licked his lips. A bird darted out of a tree and flew by right in front of his face. Selucis gasped and took aim, but then relaxed, exhaling audibly in relief. Wait, he thought. He stoppedand listened more closely. The bog was totally silent, no animal noises at all. Click "DOWN!" Selucis bellowed, diving into the mud beind a small log. Deadhead yelped and splashed down beside him. "The fuckers got my fucking arm!" Deadhead slid his rifle across the log and peered over. "Two tangoes, twelve o' clock!" He fired a rapid six shots in that direction. Sergeant McKnight, drenched with mud, crawled up next to them. "Jesus, Selucis, that was damn close. Delta One-Three, this is Three Bravo! We are pinned fown, over!" "Roger that, Bravo. Alpha, Charlie, and One-One are moving to support you, out," said Ben. "Shit!" McKnight cursed. A burst splashed into the mud next to him. "Deadhead, put some fire into that damn position!" He watched as Wolf and Tiduos's teams moved into position nearby. ------------------------------------------- "My God! They must have an MG up there!" Corporal Tiduos shouted. Sergeant Jason Garnett, the normal fire team leader, had been "killed" before even getting out of the chopper at the LZ. Now, Tiduos had to take command of Third Squad's assault team for the rest of the exercise. "Three Alpha, this is...is Three Charlie, over!" "Roger that, Charlie, over." "Put some...suppressing fire on those schucks. We'll move around on the far right and hit 'em with some 'nades!" "Roger that, Charlie. One-One will put some fire on 'em as well. Out." "Okay, let's move!" Tiduos lowered to a high crouch and trotted around the trees to his right. "Mac, take point." "Roger." Lance Corporal Seamus "Mac" MacTavish moved ahead to the bottom of the shallow slope. "In position. Count Five tangoes manning a heavy weapon at one hundred meters, over." "Roger that. Barrett, move up." "Moving." Tiduos and Barrett crept up to Mac's position. "Okay, let's close to grenade range. Bushes up ahead, 'bout twenty meters away." Barrett and Mac nodded. Tiduos and his team dropped prone and crawled up the slope. The OpFor Marines manning the machine gun did not notice them, continuing to concentrate their fire on First and Third Squads. Once they reached the bushes, Tiduos pulled out a simunition fragmentation grenade. "Okay, let's make sure they die the first time. Three frags." Mac and Barrett pulled out grenades of their own. "On three: One...Two...Three!" They lobbed their grenades over the bushes into the foxhole. There were several startled yelps, before a loud crack! sounded, signaling the explosion of the grenades. "Barrett, Mac, take that position!" Mac nodded, and they both leapt up and charged the position. "Hole is secure," Mac said over the comm. "Clear to move up, over." "This is Three-Charlie. P-Position has been neutralized. Clear to move, over." "This is One-Five. Excellent work, Three Charlie. Platoon, regorup on me for the final move. Out." |
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| Wraith | 19 Nov 2008, 04:06 PM Post #6 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER IV "W-What?" Tiduos stuttered. "Not quite fast enough, Corporal. Deadhead was 'killed,'" Ares said. "Damn. Damn, damn, damn!" "I know, Corporal, but that's what happens. You did your best, and that's all that counts now. Dismissed." Tiduos saluted, then marched back off towards his squad. "This isn't going as well as expected," Ares groaned. "This is going exactly as expected. Remember the South Se'alon Campaign of the Second World War?" Wraith said. Ares groaned again. "Let's go. We've got a village to clear." -------------------------------------------------- Sergeant Michael Irick, first fire team leader of Second Squad, crouched in the brush, watching the edge of the village. "One-Five, this is Two Alpha. I count a three tango patrol on the southern edge of the target. One heavy weapon outpost in Building Three, facing south. Over." "Roger that, Two Alpha. Hold position and prepare for assault. Out." Irick turned around to look at Corporal Nathan "Ape" Tewkes and raised two fingers. Ape nodded. There was a rustling to his left. Looking over, he saw Sergeant Robert Allen and his assault moving into position. "One-Five to Delta One. Weapons free. Assault the objective!" Ape let out a quiet "Yes!" as the team jumped up and started moving across the field. Sharp cracks resounded across the treeline as half the platoon opened up on the enemy patrols and machine gun posts. The other half charged across into the village. Irick slammed against the flimsy wall of a hut. "Ape, McAllen, this hut! Dean, on me!" Ape nodded, then bashed in the door with his rifle butt. Lance Corporal McAllen ducked inside. Irick and PFC Dean dashed over to another hut. "Two tangoes inside, sarge!" Dean shouted. "Frag it!" Irick bashed in the door, unleashing a torrent of automatic fire. Dean tossed in the grenade, which exploded a second later. "Clear!" "Clear!" "Team, regroup!" Irick's team reformed behind him. He crept along the wall of the cleared hut towards the open path ahead. "Buddy teams! Ape, with me!" "On it!" Ape and Irick quickly sprinted the short distance across to the next hut. A machine gun up the path opened up, spraying small dirt clouds into the air. "This is Two Alpha! We're pinned now by heavy weapon, over!" "This is Two Charlie. Roger that. We're on your left, flanking the emplacement, over." Irick glanced to the right and saw Sergeant Allen give him a thumbs-up, Corporal Bladon hurdling out the window of a hut behind him. They disappeared down the path, and thirty seconds later, the machine gun was silenced by a burst of submachine gun fire. "Target down, over." "Thanks, Charlie." Irick waved McAllen and Dean over and moved up to the door of the hut. "Dean, window, field of fire!" he said, pointing to the nearby window. "On it!" Dean crouched down below the frame. "We'll breach, you shoot!" Dean nodded. Lance Corporal McAllen busted open the door, and several bursts of fire exited. Dean rose up and fired several shots into the two OpFor Marines through the window, dropping them. "Clear!" Dean waved them forward and climbed out the window on the opposite wall, landing on the path. "This is One-Five. One-One, move in to take the center of the village. Two and Three hold." "Roger that." ------------------------------------------------- "Woo-hoo! Our turn!" shouted Sergeant Lundy. "Carr, with me. Aster, take Idiot and go right. Move!" Lundy and Corporal Jerry Carr moved around the left side of the hut, looking at the center "square" of the village. Another machine gun was set up in the hut on the opposite side of the courtyard. It suddenly opened fire in Lundy's general direction, although not at him. "Woon Elpha, we're pinned doon over 'ere, over," came Lance Corporal Aster O'Deth's thick accent. "Roger that. Carr, move aorund the back of that hut," Carr nodded and jogged off. Lundy raised his rifle and took careful aim at the gunner. He squeezed off a shot, dropping the man with a hit square in the chest. Unfortunately, the gun immediately turned its attention to him. "Aw, shit!" he cursed, hugging the wall for cover. "Carr, assault that damn building! Aster, flank right!" "Roger." "Roger." Lundy watched as Carr moved out into the courtyard towards the hut, outside of the gun's field of view. Suddenly, a burst of fire from another hut cut him down. "Fuck! Carr's down!" "Goot it!" Aster, on the other side of the courtyard, motioned for Erikson to move up to the door of the nearest hut, where the fire had come from. "Frag it?" "No, wait," Aster unslung his heavy submachine gun, then moved around to kick in the door. He revealed five people in the room. He checked the hands - the hands told the whole story. With a long burst of automatic fire, he cut down the two OpFor Marines. The three "civilians" immediately huddled in the corner for safety. "See?" Erikson reluctantly nodded. "Let's go." Aster and Erikson moved back out and crept up to the hut with the machine gun, which was still keeping Lundy pinned down. "Okay, 'ere is where we frag the place!" Aster said. Erikson nodded, pulled the pin on a grenade, and tossed it up and through the open window. A startled cry came from within, just before the grenade exploded. "Clear, Loondy!" Lundy stepped out into the courtyard and rushed toward Carr's inert body. "Damn! He caught three rounds in the chest! Damn, damn, damn!" Lundy stood up and shrugged. "This is One Alpha. Town center is clear." "Roger that, Alpha. Objective will be clear momentarily," said Staff Sergeant Alex Synair, leader of First Squad. ------------------------------------------------- "Well, sir, I'm glad to say that we took the village sustaining minimal casualties," Wraith said. Ares didn't smile, or frown. "How many?" "Carr and Baylor were 'killed,' Isis, LeGrand, and LePallin were wounded." Ares sighed. "Higher total than expected. But mission accomplished nonetheless. Good work, Gunnery Sergeant." "Thank you, sir." |
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| Wraith | 19 Nov 2008, 04:38 PM Post #7 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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OOC: This is a short chapter for plot development IC: CHAPTER V "Mr, Cartier, is that an official statement?!" Ambassador Bowling's foghorn voice boomed. "Yes, Misseur Ambassador. The KRF was not responsible for Herr Kellerhoffen's death," replied his counterpart, Jacque Cartier of the Katanese Resistance Front. "Why would we wish to disrupt negotiations for our own sovereign state on this planet?" "The assassination had all the marks of a KRF operation, including multiple threats on the Vice Chancellor's life!" "Misseur Ambassador, I assure you that under the leadership of Francois de Holle, the KRF engages in only nonviolent resistance operations." Bowling scowled and glared at Cartier, then dropped back into his chair. At the head of the conference table, Chancellor Hans Gerhard cleared his throat. "Back to business then, gentlemen. Herr Bowling, despite what de Holle may say, I still firmly believe believe zat the KRF vill continue its terrorist operations against our rightvul government! Surely, your Convederation will neffer split Euradis for these dogs!" Cartier rose from his seat, teeth clenched in anger. "And yet, it is you and your government that persecute our people, Gerhard!" he shouted, pointing a finger at Gerhard accusingly. "Misseur Ambassador, I urge you not to believe such blatant lies!" Bowling sighed deeply and rose from his seat. He paced slowly along the large windows overlooking the city. "Mr. Cartier, Herr Chancellor, it will not, cannot be my decision on this matter. Mr. Cartier, so long as there is any violence, be it from your organization or not, our peacekeepers will remain here. Herr Chancellor, the Minster of Foreign Affairs herself shall arrive soon enough to dictate final terms. But both of you hear this," Bowling stopped pacing and gave the men at the table a long, hard, look. "Should any harm come to any Confederation personnel, our peacekeepers shall become peacemakers. Is that understood?" Gerhard gulped audibly. Both men nodded lightly. "Excellent. Now, Herr Chancellor, we must make preparations for Her Excellency's arr-" The window shattered and blood from Bowling's head sprayed across the table. A loud crack! echoed just as his body hit the floor. On World, millions of light years away and three days later, Minister of Foreign Affairs Kathryn Morgan ripped the message in half, howling in frustration. |
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| Wraith | 19 Nov 2008, 09:22 PM Post #8 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER VI Camp Oliver Barton, Bessan "I am PROUD to say that Delta Company exceeded expectations on our war game! All objectives were met with no serious amounts of casualties. Bravo Company had no idea what hit 'em!" First Sergeant Cow Maxwell proclaimed to the assembled company. A cheer rose up from the Marines. "Now quiet! QUIET!" The cheer died instantly. "As a result of our outstanding performance, I, personally, am quite pleased to announce that all Marines of Company D are allowed full day's leave on Saturday!" Cow smirked and clanced at Wraith. "With no chance of cancellation." Wraith's somber expression turned to a slight frown. An enormous cheer erupted from the ranks. "QUIET! Nevertheless, this Friday evening we will hold seminars, choice of the platoon commanders and sergeants. This is their chance to have some fun with you men!" Cow grinned broadly. Wraith's slight frown changed back to his normal, somber expression. "COMP'NY, Dis-MISSED!" ---------------------------------- "So, Wraith, what do you suggest? Have some fun." Wraith paused in thought for a moment. "Hand-to-hand." Ares raised an eyebrow. "Don't break an arm." "Yes, sir. Wouldn't want to spoil their weekend." ------------------------------------ "Okay, time for one of my favorite things to teach - hand-to-hand combat," Wraith said, smirking slightly. "Aw, SHIT!" someone cursed. "I heard that, Deadhead! Don't worry, Ares has forbidden me from causing any long-term damage tonight!" Wraith shouted. "Okay, with no more interruptions, let's get down to business. Let's see what you know about hand-to-hand. Try to take me down. Volunteers?" No one moved, except Erikson, who twirled his head side-to-side to look around at the others. "Idiot! You just volunteered!" "HA HA! You're fucked!" Deadhead taunted. Erikson stepped forward nervously. "Ready?" Wraith assumed an aggressive stance, right foot forward and fists arrayed his fists far forward his chest. "Um..." Wraith moved instantly, lunging forward to chop at Erikson's neck, then slamming him hard in the chest with his palm. Winded, Erikson staggered back, leaving his defense still open. Wraith moved and grabbed the back of his head, thrusting it downwards while knocking out his legs by kicking the back of his knee. Erikson lost all balance and fell down on onto his knees, and Wraith slammed Erikson's face in the dirt, holding it there. The fight had lasted five seconds. "Because I can't cause any long-term damage, I'm not going to be hitting with my fists. Normally, I would. Now: can anyone tell me lessons learned?" "He hesitated," Selucis answered immediately. "Exactly. Never, ever hesitate when facing an enemy in hand-to-hand combat. Strike whenever you see an opening, unless it opens yourself to an attack. Anything else?" "You took him down by winding him and knocking him off balance," said Alex. "Correct. One rule of real combat - do whatever it takes to win. In a life-or-death situation, your enemy isn't going to fight 'fairly.' This means: go for such vulnerable points as the stomach, neck, back of the knees, and especially the jugular. What is the easiest way to kill someone in hand-to-hand combat?" "Crush 'is neck," Aster muttered. "Correct. It's a slow and painful death, but it sure as hell gets the job done. Crushing the neck completely cuts off oxygen to the brain, causing him to suffocate," Wraith removed his boot from Erikson's back, who he was still holding on the ground, and hauled him to his feet. "Don't hesitate next time, Idiot." He turned to the platoon again. "You can use your fists. Try it that way. Next!" --------------------------------------- An hour and many subdued Marines later, Lance Corporal O'Deth faced off with Gunny Calahan. "This oughta be good," Lundy whispered to Erikson. "Why?" "The only two people I know have beaten the Gunny in hand-to-hand before are Crazy Aster and Cow. At least when he's drunk." Erikson chuckled. "Silence in the ranks! Observe carefully!" Aster immediately assumed an aggressive stance, while Wraith chose a defensive posture, dominant foot back, fists close in to his body. "Don' worry, Wraith, you cin 'it with yehr fists!" "Can do." Aster struck first, a quick cut across Wraith's face with his right fist. Wraith jerked his head back, ducked down, and jabbed Aster in the stomach with his elbow. As Aster staggered back slightly, Wraith aimed up and swiped him across the face with his left fist. Aster recovered quickly, blocking Wraith's next strike aimed toward the chest, then sending his knee up towards Wraith's groin. The Gunny reacted almost instantly, shifting slightly sideways, causing Aster's knee to hit the hard muscle in his thigh. However, that set him off balance for Aster's blow to his stomach. Now Wraith staggered back. Aster siezed the initiative and lunged forward with his right fist. That was a big mistake. Wraith sidestepped the massive blow, the locked Aster's extended arm between his own arms. While Aster's arm was immobilized, leaving him temporarily distracted, Wraith sent his own knee up into Aster's stomach. The huge Lance Corporal doubled over from the blow, allowing Wraith to deliver a devastating chop to the back of his neck. "Ah!" Aster gasped. Wraith finished the melee by using his body to force Aster to the ground, the immobilized arm pinned behind his back. "Good game, Aster. Thanks for playin' along," Wraith said, rising to his feet. "You bet. Woon't be so easeh if we go at it fer rail!" Aster said, pushing himself off the ground. "Well, Marines, that may not have been scripted, but the Lance Corporal here was going easy on me for 'educational' purposes." "What's the actual score?" Ape interrupted. "About even. I think I'm ahead by a couple though, Ape!" "Yeh wish!" Aster chuckled. "Anyways, first mistake?" "Obvious strike against a prepared opponent," someone said. "Okay. I was expecting a blow to the face first, considering we are about the same height. As a result, I was able to outmanuever him initially very easily. What else?" "He got overconfident," muttered Sergeant McGraw. "Correct. While he sensed the opening when I was winded, he got overconfident and did something you should never do against an alert opponent - he lunged. He attacked with an easily dodged strike that was equally easy to turn against him, as demonstrated. A lunging punch, powerful it may be, leaves you very vulnerable to an easy takedown. Normally, that arm would have been broken, or at least dislocated. But, for training purposes, I did not go that far. Any questions?" No one else moved. "Excellent. I hope I don't have to see you in town tomorrow, or you're in some deep shit! Dismissed!" |
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| Wraith | 20 Nov 2008, 10:03 PM Post #9 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER VII The Hard Place, Camptown "Jeeshush Chrisht, mate! Did I menshun 'ow mush I luff you guys?!" Deadhead rambled. "Several times, Deadhead. Now please - hey, what the-? Get the fuck off me!" Selucis shouted, shoving Deadhead back into his chair. "Izzy, whatever you do, don't - I said get the fuck off me, you stupid fuck! - don't drink this much." Izzy only nodded slightly, entranced by Deadhead's behavior. "Where the hell did Sergeant McKnight go? It'd really hel - God fucking DAMMIT, Deadhead!" --------------------------------------------- He's gonna be hurtin' in the morning," Sergeant Irick muttered over his drink. "Sore you, Mike! And sho am I!" Ape said enthusiastically, chugging his bottle of rum. "Oi! Waidresh! 'Nother bottle o' rum over here, pleash!" Lance Corporal McAllen plopped down in the chair next to Irick. "Wekk, Dean's havin' fun," he chuckled, pointing over at Dean. He had two wome in his lap and a stupid grin on his face. "He drunk yet?" Irick asked. "Not quite. Another shot o' whiskey'll do it. Ah! There he goes!" "He won't be smilin' in the morning." --------------------------------------------------------- "Okay, little Barry - is it okay if I call you that?" Sergeant Jason Garnett asked Barrett. "I'd prefer 'John' or 'Barrett.'" "Okay, Johnny! Let's confuse you with faces! We gotta do it with all you new guys!" jason led Barrett over to the bar, where they had a good view of all the tables. "Well, you know me 'n' Froggie, so let's take a look at the others. There's second fire team: Izzy's cool, but not the brightest bulb in the box. Selucis - saved my ass on Maxfrica. Outstanding Marine. Deadhead, he doesn't have a whole lot o' common sense, but damn, he's smart. He gave my rifle a full auto fire mode. Nobody knows how he did it. Where the hell's Sam McKnight? "Oh well. First fire team: that guy who looks like he wants to murder you is Wolf McGraw. He's 'tight,' in the loosest meaning of the word, with Crazy Aster and the Gunny. Conk, over there, he's pretty new, only been on three deployments. He's okay, I guess. "Over there's Second Squad. That big guy who needs to shave is Corporal LePallin. He's a real hothead. There's Lance Corporal Bellik, with Raoul. Bellik's a good man, but he can be reckless sometimes. Tiduos & Raoul are close, being Katanese. Hound Cole's my buddy - he can find anything, anywhere. He's also some other kind of fierce if you set him off. "That there's Mike Irick - coolest Marine under fire I've ever seen. Those two bubs next to him are Ape & McAllen. Ape's batshit - craziest man in the company. I don't care what they say 'bout Crazy Aster. "Now, First Squad. Hey, Alex is here! I figured he was over in The Rock. Alex Synair - squad leader and idealist. If ever there was an 'anti-Gunny,' he's the one. I don't see Lundy, must be upstairs with his girl. Best shot in the FIST. That's Crazy Aster, and don't call him that to his face. You'll see and hear a lot about him. Next to him's Idiot Erikson, a new guy. Personally christened by the Gunny himself, I hear. "Here comes Dutch Sanol - Hey Dutch! - most experienced fire team leader in the company. He's been around even longer than the Gunny. Mannerheim and Padrino worship him, and rightfully so. "Anyways, there you have it. That's most of the Marines of note in our platoon. Questions?" Jason finished. Barrett just stared. "What the fuck?!" ----------------------------------------------------- Down the street, in The Rock, the senior NCOs of 94th FIST had their own party. "CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!" Cow finished draining the entire bottle of vodka and slammed it down on the table. A massive cheer erupted from the surrounding Marines, and Cow wore a wide grin on his face. "Okay, pay up! Pay up!" Over in the corner, several other Marines sat around a large table, holding cards in their hands. "What just happened?" asked Gunnery Sergeant Tom "Bud" Corrion, platoon sergeant of Third Platoon, Company D. "I think Cow just won the bet," said Staff Sergeant Steven Lee. Across the table, Gunnery Sergeant Jack "Wraith" Calahan grunted in agreement. "Okay. Show hands," said Master Sergeant Anthony "Boss" Warner, the company's second-highest ranking NCO. He threw down three Queens. "God DAMN it, Boss!" Staff Sergeant Ben Thamus cursed, sending his hand flying across the table. Just a pair of aces. "I'm fucked," said Staff Sergeant Lee, putting down his cards. Two pair - Kings and Sixes. Corrion smirked. "I think, this is MY hand," he said, laying down his cards. A flush, all Hearts. Corrion leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. "So, Jack, can you beat that?" Calahan's face didn't move. He simply laid down his hand facedown, then quickly flipped it over, finishing by clasping his hands together on the table. His face didn't move. Corrion leaned forward, gaping in disbelief. "Aw, you gotta be fucking me!" Wraith had a straight, barely beating out Corrion's flush. "Mine, fairly won. Beat it, Bud," Wraith muttered, pulling the small pile of Confederation Credits over to his side of the table. "Aw, fuck this. I can't see through Wraith's damn poker face," said Ben, standing up from the table and walking over to the crowd around Cow. The First Sergeant was still drinking, even after five full bottles of vodka. "Okay, new hand. Ante up," said Boss, beginning to shuffle the cards. Suddenly, a shrill beeping rang out from the commset on his head. "Aw, shit. Hang on, guys." Warner got up from his seat and walked over to a corner. "So, Jack, can I have some of my money back?" asked Corrion. "No." "Oh, come on! Not even for your buddy?" "Not now. Maybe later." "You're impossible." Boss returned to the table, slamming his palms down. "Hell yes, guys! Skipper wants the company back at base ASAP! Deployment imminent!" "Why did he contact you?" Bud asked. Warner just pointed at the crowd. "Oh, yeah, that." "Let's kick some ass, Marines!" ----------------------------------------------- "Hey, hey hey hey!" Jason slurred, stumbling over to Barrett. "Hey, buddy, buy me 'nother drink, pleash! 'M outta money!" "Um..." "Aw, come on, buddy! I luff you, man!" "Sarge, I'm not sure-" The door banged open. "OFF YOUR DRUNK ASSES, MARINES! ON YOUR FEET!" Master Sergeant Warner's voice boomed. Many of the Marines jumped to their feet, dashing and stumbling around erratically. The platoon sergeants waded into the fray and started kicking and prodding. THAT got everyone's attention fast. Tomorrow would not be fun. OOC: Here, I spent about half the chapter reintroducing some MCs, and characterizing a lot of NMCs. |
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| Wraith | 21 Nov 2008, 08:59 PM Post #10 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER VIII CCS Harbinger, en route to Euradis "Marines, we have a situation," Captain Ryan began. "As you know from CNN, the planet Euradis has been torn apart by civil war for decades, between the Antethian planetary government and the Katanese Resistance Front, which is classified as a terrorist organization." Several soft murmurs escaped the crowd of Marines. "I understand that some of you marines are Katanese in ethnicity, but, in your service to the Confederation, you must put aside any nationalistic or ethnic bias. We are Confederation marines, and we do the job no metter who the enemy is! Lieutenant Bandon, hit the lights!" Red flicked off the lights of the hold, and the large screen behind Ryan flickered to life. "Last week, Ambassador Herbert Bowling was assassinated, presumably by KRF terrorists. The KRF spokesman, Jacques Cartier, denies this claim." The Marines snorted in disbelief. Bowling and Cartier's moviephotos temporarily flashed up on the screen, followed by one of a stately dressed woman. Several Marines started whistling and whooping. "Quiet in the ranks!" Cow bellowed. The Marines fell silent. "Thank you, First Sergeant. This is Kathryn Morgan, Confederation Minister of Foreign Affairs. She is personally attending a diplomatic gala to resolve this conflict once and for all. She, and your accompanying Tier One Personnel, are our primary charges." Several more moviephotos flashed up on the screen. "These people, including Euradis Chancellor Hans Gergard, must be protected at all costs, especially Miss Morgan and Mister Gerhard. First Sergeant Maxwell, brief your choices! Platoon commanders, on me! Platoon sergeants, take command of your platoons! Comp'ny, dis-MISSED!" ------------------------------------ "Hey Ares, Captain Ryan wants me to give you this," Red handed him a briefing packet. "and to tell you to speak to Cow. Remember to burn the BP after reading." "Yes, sir. Wilco." Cow was already speaking to Wraith when Ares approached. "Ah, Ares! Glad you could join us! Captain Ryan has tasked me with assigning my best Marines as Minister Morgan's personal escort, so here I am!" "This oughta be good. Get on with it, Cow." "As you know, officers wear evening dress reds, NCOs and enlisted men wear Class A dress reds. Now, as for the assignments..." Cow reached into his pocket and unfurled a crumpled piece of paper, scanning it. Not the Gunny, not the Gunny, not the- "Gunny Calahan-" "Aw, FUCK!" Cow cakled. "That was the Skipper's choice, Ares." He stuck his tongue out, taunting Ares. "If you're gonna give me him, please don't-" "Alex." "Aw, COME ONE!" Cow stuck his tongue out again. "I swear, if you give me Cra-" "Dutch." "Oh, thank GOD!" "Wolf." "Fucking hell!" "Deadhead." "ARRRRGH!" "Scream all you want, sir. Selucis." "Whew." "And four enlisted men of your choice." "Thank you! Bellik, Raoul, Shert, and Idiot." "Idiot? You sure?" "Yeah. He did alright on Volut." Cow scribbled the names on the paper, cumpled it up again, and shoved it back in his pocket. "Thankee much. See ya," he said, giving a two-fingered salute and strutting off. ------------------------------------------------ Ares called his squad leaders and platoon sergeant to him. "Okay, Skipper has seen fit to give us the 'honor' of protecting the Minister herself. He, Cow, and I have chose ten men for the job. I will be in command of the guard personally "Wraith, Alex-" "Aw, fuck," Alex grumbled. "-Dutch, Wolf, Deadhead, Selucis, Bellik, Shert, LeGrand, and Idiot." Alex snorted and chuckled loudly. "Idiot?! That dumbass doesn't know his mouth from his ass yet!" "Shut it, Alex! He was my choice." Alex immediately fell silent. "Very good. All men are to be in Class A dress reds for the gala. I want to all the men in my party. Haul ass, squad leaders!" |
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| Wraith | 21 Nov 2008, 09:32 PM Post #11 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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OOC: What I was surprised with with this chapter, is that I reread it, and I was disturbed. CHAPTER IX I'm gonna send your other friends your way real soon!" he yelled furiously into the guerilla's face. Tears streamed down the unfortunate man's cheeks. He would have spoken, or cried out, but his tongue was cut out and his teeth bashed in. Keeping agun trained on the guerilla, the other man knelt and yanked down the guerilla's pants. "I'm gonna make what remains of your miserable life a living hell! I'm going to do what you did to my friend, and then some!" The man drew a knife, and with one hard cut and a jerk, he sliced off the guerilla's gentials. The guerilla screeched as loud and agonizing as possible through the gag. The man sheathed the knife and rose up again, holding the former part of the guerilla, blood flowing over his hand. "Eat it!" he shouted, rage uncontrolledable, shoving it into the guerilla's mouth. "EAT IT!" The guerilla merely whimpered. The torturer's face trembled with rage. He kicked the guerilla onto his back, holstered his pistol, and drew both of his knives. "I know what Manning's insides look like. Let's see about YOURS!" The torturer knelt down and slowly started cutting the guerilla's abdomen, autopsy-style. The guerilla screamed in horrible agony. The torturer cackled murderously. "Jack? Jack?!" ------------------------------------ "Jack?" Calahan blinked. He turned away from the mirror to face Corrion. "What's going on, Jack?" "Nothing. It's...been a while since...I had to do this." "What" Guard duty?" Calahan nodded slowly. Corrion shrugged. "They're boarding shuttles now. We oughta get going." "I'll be done in a minute. I have to take care of...some things." "Okay, see you there," Corrion left the passenger hold. Calahan opened his fist and unfurled the crumpled piece of paper. He looked at the mirror again. The cross and sign stared back at him. "Run, run, run, as fast as you can 'cuz I'm gonna nail you up next to this man." Calahan took out his lighter and burned the paper to ash. ------------------------------------- "Okay, Marines, light armaments!" Ares shouted to his ten-man party. "Bellik, Erikson, LeGrand, and Shert get the rifles. Everyone else takes a sidearm. And I," Ares snorted. "get a sword." Several of the enlisted men chuckled. "Shut it, Marines! Grab your gear and get on board!" Ares walked over to Wraith as they did. "You can bring two," he whispered, winking. Wraith merely tapped the barely noticeable bulge on his left chest. Ares nodded. "Let's go." |
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| Wraith | 22 Nov 2008, 02:00 AM Post #12 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER X Marine Officer Evening Dress Reds were the most elegant and formal of the dress red uniforms in the Confederation Marine Corps. Ares wore a scarlet tunic, purposely cut to bare the navy blue waistcoat. His trousers were sky blue emblazoned with gold stripes. All of his awards earned throughout his service of the Confederation were displayed on his left breast. The other Marines wore Class A Dress Red Uniform, the most formal of enlisted men and noncommisioned officers. Their scarlet tunics were completely buttoned, with no waistcoats. Their trousers were also sky blue, but emblazoned with red stripes. They also had all of their medals and ribbons displayed. As for weaponry, each Marine carried a ceremonial sword on his belt, secured by a peace binding. The lowest-ranking enlisted men - Lance Corporals Bellik and Shert, and PFCs LeGrand and Erikson - all carried rifles, slung over their shoulders. The other enlisted men and NCOs - Selucis, Deadhead, Wolf, Dutch, and Wraith - each carried a sidearm, only Wraith had another .45 concealed in his breast holster. Ares carried only the ceremonial sword. The Confederation was taking no chances with such a high-ranking politician, and a good friend of President Whitehall himself, at that. The convoy that escorted Morgan and her entourage was extremely well-guarded by Marine light armored vehicles, and even had hovercopter coverage. "You Excellency," Ares said, bowing his head slightly as Morgan approached. "I am Ensign Kurt Glystern, 94th FIST, Confederation Marine Corps. My Marines and I will serve as your personal bodyguard tonight." "Mr. Glystern, do you really expect anything to go wrong tonight?" she replied. "As a matter of fact, ma'am, I do. As my platoon sergeant says - 'never trust anyone as far as you can throw them.'" "Nevertheless, Mr. Glystern, I do not expect trouble. I doubt such elaborate protection is necessary, inside or out of these negotiations." "I understand, ma'am. But I do what I am told, and I am told to stay with you like a shadow. And it's Ensign Glystern, ma'am." Morgan rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't be so full of yourself, Ensign. I do hope you can keep your men," she eyed the enlisted men with rifles. "under control." "My platoon sergeant and I need only look at them harshly, and they will be 'under control.'" "Very well, Ensign. I'd like to attend this party, now." "By all means, ma'am. I'm not here to block your way." "Well, you're doing a good job of it nonetheless." ---------------------------------------------------- Deadhead and Selucis stood in a far corner of the ballroom, carefully scanning the well-dressed crowd, which was dotted with other Marines here and there, and chatting with each other. "Now, she is what I call one hell of a blowhard," Deadhead muttered. "Yeah, you wish," Selucis responded. "Oh, shut up. Be mature for once. But I wouldn't mind..." Both men chuckled. "Expecting trouble tonight?" Selucis asked. "Nah. Too high-profile. They'd have to be either really stupid or very well-equipped to attack this party." "I hope you're right." ---------------------------------------------- Wraith paced the perimeter of the ballroom slowly, scanning the crowd very carefully, a cold scowl on his face. Aster and the new replacement, PFC Barrett, also in dress reds, were wading through the crowd together towards him. Wraith stopped pacing and stood at a perfect parade rest. "'Ow ya doin', Wraith? 'Ope you ain't goonna pull a goon on anywoon this tiem," Aster said. Wraith merely grunted. "How're you doing Private-" Wraith stopped talking and squinted. There was a different face altogether now, just as young, but different. "-Manning?" Wraith just kept staring. "Gunny? My name's Barrett, Gunny?" The face changed its look to one of confusion. "You okay, sir?" Wraith blinked. There was Aster and Private Barrett - where did Manning go? "Er, you okay, Wraith?" Aster echoed. Wraith blinked again. "Yes, I'm fine. Mistook you for someone else, Private Barrett. How are you holding up." "Just...fine, Gunny. Boss, I think you should worry more about yourself right now, personally." Wraith scowled. "I'll worry about the marines of my platoon. They are my responsibility, Private. Now, I'm going to move along, then. Talk to you men later." Wraith started pacing again. Aster thought for a moment, staring at Wraith in bewilderment. There isn't a Private Manning in this platoon. I've never heard of a 'Manning' in any platoon. ------------------------------------------------- Ares was with Minister Morgan wherever she went, always wihin five steps behind her. Being an enormous behemoth of a man, he made an intimidating "bodyguard." "Mr. Cartier. I have heard a lot about you. One of the most intelligent men on the planet, I hear," Morgan said. "I can't say I am, Miss Morgan. But if other say I am, perhaps I am," Cartier responded. Morgan chuckled. "I hope the negotiations will prove fruitful." "As do I. I'll see you then, Miss." Cartier bowed his head slight, then walked off. Morgan turned to an aide. "How much time until the negotiations begin?" "Twenty minutes, Excellency." "Good. I tire of having this Marine constantly hovering over my shoulder." ----------------------------------------- Alex and the sergeants - Dutch Sanol and Wolf McGraw - had their own little meeting in another corner of the room. "So, how do you like the 'party?'" Alex said sarcastically. "Not my idea of a party, but I suppose it's a formal occasion. I'm not complaining. I get free food," said Sanol. Wolf just grunted. "I hate guard duty. Damn politicians. They can never protect themselves." "You're sounding like the Gunny there." "Oh, shit. Am I? Scratch that. I love guard duty." Erikson approached the sergeants. "Sarge, what exactly am I supposed to do?" "You really are thick, aren't you Idiot? What everyone else is doing - standing around, talking, and/or doing nothing!" Alex said, slightly frustrated. "Errr...sorry, sir." Alex simply rolled his eyes. "Geez, maybe I'll go talk to someone friendlier, like the Gunny," Erikson, without waiting for a response, spun around and walked away. "Ouch, Alex. You said he was an idiot?" Sanol said. "I'll get you for that, idiot! You hear me?! I'll get you for that!" Erikson just smirked. ------------------------------------------------- Wraith stopped pacing again and started staring out the window, hands clasped behind his back. It was now pouring rain outside, thunder booming and lightning streaking across the sky. There it was again, the cross and sign. The original one. Damn the Maxfricans. Damn them to hell. Damn the Maxfricans. Damn my parents. Damn everyone! Wraith clenched his teeth, starting to squeeze his own hand. "Jack?! What the fuck are you doing?! What are you doing to him?! Stop it!" "Jack?" Wraith blinked. "Hmm?" "You okay?" Corrion asked. "Just fine, Bud. Just fine. Just, leave me be for a while." Corrion stared at him for a while, an eyebrow raised. "Have it your way, then." Wraith stared back out the window. The rainwater was streaming down the window. The blood was streaming down the window. Thunder boomed. Thud! Wraith jerked his head to look at the top of the window, squinting hard. There was quite a bit of movement out in front of the building as well. Wraith tapped the pistol strapped to his hip, making sure it was still there. Then he spun around and started to quickly walk in Ares's direction. ---------------------------------- PFC Erikson and Lance Corporal Bellik flanked Ares as they followed Minister Morgan into the dining room, where the night's meal was to be served and negotiations were to take place. They followed her in and stood at a rigid attention next to the wall behind her seat. Five minutes later, the appetizers were served. Ares paid no attention to the food - his focus was on the Minister. Wraith walked into the room, faster than normal. "Sir," he whispered. "I think something's going to happen." Ares cocked an eyebrow. "How are you sure of this?" "I'm not sure, but I think something is going to happen." Ares turned his head side to side, looking around the room. "Maintain current behavior, Gunnery Sergeant. We have no confirmation of a threat, and attack on a heavily guarded, high-profile meeting is unlikely. Stand down." Wraith grunted softly. "I'm going to consolidate the others anyways. Maybe we can form a perimeter around this room." Wraith turned to leave. BOOM! |
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| Wraith | 22 Nov 2008, 06:28 PM Post #13 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XI Belligerant, Euradis "Jesus Christ!" Ares exclaimed, stumbling back from the shockwave. Lance Corporal Bellik rushed out the door into the ballroom. "No, Bellik, WAIT!" Wraith shouted after him, but he was too late. Another explosion rocked the building, and windows nearest to the dining room were blown in. Bellik was caught in the explosion and was engulfed in the fireball. "SHIT!" Erikson shouted. "Christ! I'll get the others organized, you just grab the Minister and get OUT!" Ares dashed off out of the ballroom, only stopping to stoop and pick up Bellik's rifle. "We've got to MOVE!" Wraith bellowed. He grabbed Erikson and Minister Morgan by their collars and started pulling them away. "Ensign Glystern, what in HELL are you doing to me?!" Morgan protested. "I'm not Ares, I'm his platoon sergeant. And I'm saving your life, so please, shut up." Suddenly, the lights blinked out. "Shit. Erikson, cover the door to the ballroom!" Wraith ordered. He barged through the double doors into the secondary ballroom, which was dark, but empty. "There, an emergency exit," he said, pointing at the door across the hall. He shoved Morgan towards Erikson. "Get over there, I'll cover you!" Erikson nodded and started leading her across the room. Screams and sporadic gunfire echoed from the other rooms. ----------------------------------------------- Deadhead and Selucis were fairly close to the initial explosion, which tore the main doors off their hinges. They were thrown onto their backs by the explosion. Deadhead recovered first, shaking and slapping his face to reorient himself. "SHIT! Selucis, get up!" he shouted, shaking Selucis. He didn't move. "Damn it!" Deadhead drew his sidearm and started dragging Selucis behind a buffet table. "-ellik, WAIT!" BOOM! The windows on the far side of the ballroom exploded inwards. A dozen heavily armed men rappeled in through the windows, and two dozen more crashed through the skylight. The lights blinked out. Deadhead grunted as he shoved the table on its side, sending the food spilling out onto the floor. He peered over the edge. The ballroom was pitch-black apart from the occasional muzzle and lightning flashes. Deadhead took careful aim with his pistol and fired five shots into a shadow in the center of the room. The man cried out and slumped to the ground. "HELL YES! You don't mess with the Marine Corps!" Deadhead picked off two more targets, then ducked back down to reload his clip. Selucis moaned on the floor. "Get your shit together, man! We've got a situation, here!" Selucis moaned again, but then picked himself up, rising to a crouch and drawing his own sidearm. Suddenly, Ares crashed down on the floor beside them, holding a rifle. "Jesus Christ, Marines! Thank God someone's doing their job!" "Thank you, sir!" Deadhead replied, firing his pistol into the mass of shadows again. "You watching your fire, Marine?! There are civilians, high-ranking civilians, in this room!" Deadhead ducked back down and reloaded. "Um...no, sir! Oops..." ----------------------------------------- In another corner of the ballroom, Aster, Barrett, Lance Corporal Shert, Sergeant Lundy, and PFC Morris put up a flimsy barricade of tables and maintained disciplined fire at any muzzle flashes. "Uh, sergeant? Shouldn't we be careful firing at the muzzle flashes? Those could be our guys!" Barrett said. "Shut it, Johnny! The Confederation M3A2 Combat Rifle is powered by electromagnetic forces, and has no muzzle flash. Fire away, private!" Lundy replied, irritated. "Roger that, SIR!" Barrett emptied a clip of his rifle into two more muzzle-flashing shadows. "This kinda shit is REALLY starting to PISS ME OFF!" Aster bellowed, furious. Lundy spun his head around to look at him. "What happened to your acce-" "GRENADE!" someone bellowed. "Oh, shit!" Everyone scrambled to get away, except for Morris, who, not thinking, flattened himself on the grenade. "Jesus, Morris, NO!" Shert shouted, rushing over to him with Lundy. The grenade went off, throwing them onto the floor. Lundy and Shert didn't remember anything after that. ----------------------------------- Wraith carefully retreated across the room, pistol trained on the doorway. "Boss, this door won't budge!" "Cover the rear!" Erikson raised his rifle to watch the door, and Wraith rushed over. "Here's how it's done!" He didn't stop running, using his body mass to simply bash through the door. BOOM! The windows in the secondary ballroom exploded, and men started swinging in. "MOVE!" Erikson grabbed Morgan by the arm and pulled her into the hallway. It was pitch-black, so he didn't think anyone had seen them. Wraith peered out the open doorway. The figures converged on the dining room door, except for one. Wraith squinted. The last figure was turned, facing their way, and he looked like he was... ...scanning the area. Wraith raised his pistol. Instantly, the figure darted to the side. Wraith barely stopped himself from pulling the trigger. "Shit. MOVE!" he shouted, pushing Erikson and Morgan down the hallway. It ended with a sealed, electronic door. There were heavy footsteps behind them. "Get going!" Wraith pulled off his dog tags and flashed them into the identifiction scanner. Confederation military personnel had access to electronic doors on every planet. "ACCESS GRANTED." The door slid open. "GET GOING!" he bellowed, shoving Erikson and Morgan through the door. There was an angry shout behind them, approaching fast. Wraith brought his pistol up just as the man pounced on him, brandishing a knife. The door slid shut and sealed behind him. Erikson and Morgan were alone. |
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| Wraith | 23 Nov 2008, 01:14 AM Post #14 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XII The knife came down, straight at the center of Calahan's face. At the last millesecond, he jerked his head to the right. The knife slashed across his face, eye to cheek, in one swift strike. Wraith shrieked in pain. The man drew up his knife again, for the killing blow this time. Wraith reached up, grabbing the knife in his shoulder sheath, and drew it in a wide arm, slashing the man across his front. This time, his assailant shrieked in pain, rolling off of Calahan. Wraith rolled away and got back on his feet, his opponent doing the same. They circled each other for a few moments, then the other man lunged. Wraith sidestepped the thrust, then used his full weight to smash the man's arm against the wall. He yelped and dropped the knife. At the same time, Wraith saw an opening and stabbed up with his knife. The man moved his arm to block at the last second, and it took the wound instead of his chest. Yelping again, this time the man swept his wounded arm in a wide arc, sending Calahan stumbling back. The man ripped the knife out of his arm and charged Wraith. He braced himself, and the man's shoulder hit him with full force, slamming him through a flimsy wooden door to the side. They were now in an even darker corridor - likely a maintenence passage. His opponent slashed Wraith's arm with the knife, but as his arm came down, Wraith grabbed it and twisted, hard. The man yelped again, dropping the knife. Wraith drove his other fist into the man's stomach, causing him to double over, winded. Wraith finished the combo by slamming the man up against the wall, then dropping him to the floor. The assassin gasped for breath, sliding down to the floor. Wraith placed his boot firmly on the man's chest and began to press down. But he still had some more tricks up his sleeve. The assassin drew a small pistol, firing a fraction of a second before Calahan reacted. The bullet slammed into Wraith's shoulder as he rolled away. The man pushed himself to his feet and fired random shots blindly into the darkess. Wraith dashed to end of the corridor and took cover behind a pillar in the next room. The assassin carefully crept into the room, eyes flicking in every direction. Nevertheless, as he passed the pillars, he failed to see Calahan's fist until just before it rammed into his face. Staggering back, Wraith charged him. The assassin raised the pistol again, but this time Calahan was ready, kicking it out of his hands. It skidded across the floor into the darkness. The assassin was temporarily stunned. Calahan aimed another kick at his chest. Just before the blow landed, the assassin grabbed his boot and twisted, Calahan yanked the foot out of the man's grip, but the assassin lunged towards him. The man landed two blows - one in Wraith's chest and one in his face. Now Wraith staggered back. The man charged forward and rammed Calahan into the pillar, then slammed his head down into Wraith's. He drew another knife and moved it into a position to stab him in the heart. Calahan reacted first, throwing him off, then sending him reeling with a powerful round kick. The man staggered back once again. Calahan drew his second knife, from his rear sheat, and the two men circled again. Both men moved at the same time, hands grappling their opposite numbers, a stalemate. Calahan rammed his knee into his opponents groin. The man was not dazed for long, and made a slashing movement as Wraith wound up for a mighty punch. Wraith grunted, then weaved around the assassin's subsequent slashes to thrust his knife into his opponents hip. The man cried out, but again performed a headbutt. He lunged forward and slammed Wraith's knife hand against the wall, stabbing down with his own. Calahan stopped the thrust with his own hand, but dropped his knife due to the assassin constantly beating his hand against the wall. Wraith took a leaf from the man's book and sent him reeling once again with a headbutt. The assassin recovered quickly and performed a round kick as Calahan approached for the grapple. The blow struck Wraith directly in the chest, sending him staggering back, towards another door. The man followed up with a very powerful roundhouse kick. Calahan went flying right through the flimsy door. They were now in a warehouse of some kind, many tall, dusty shelves lining the walls. They were on some kind of maintenence platoform, about four stories up, with a stairwell leading down nearby. A long rope, connected to some kind of crane mechanism, lay coiled on the floor behind. Wraith struggled to his feet as the assassin charged him through the door, brandishing the knife. He immediately stopped the attack with his boot, sending a frontal kick into the man's mouth. Blood sprayed out onto the nearby wall. Before Wraith could retract his leg, the assassin thrust the knife into it. Wraith cried out in pain, but he nevertheless sent the man flying back with a roundhouse kick of his own. Wraith limped back and reached into his torn tunic for his second pistol, in the breast holster. At the same time, the assassin got to his feet. The mn glaced to his left, eyeing a control panel, then looked back up and saw Calahan just finalizing his aim at his heart. He glanced back at the panel and lunged for a large button. Calahan looked down and gasped, his foot being inside the coiled rope. He looked back up to aim, and started to press down on the trigger. The assassin pressed the button. Almost instantly, the rolled jerked tight, the crane pulling it across the warehouse. Calahan went with it. It unfurled its full length, dropping Wraith almost all four stories to the ground. When the rope reached its length, Calahan's leg went taught with a sickening crack!, leaving him dangling five feet above the floor. The pistol was long gone, sent flying into the dark warehouse. There were heavy foosteps coming down the stairs. Calahan blinked several times to clear his vision, then pulled himself up. he grabbed the knife still embedded in his leg and, with some self-persuasion, yanked it out. He grunted in pain, but he had to cut himself free. He lifted himself up again and tried to cut the cord with one stroke. He cut one strand, then fell back down again. He lifted up again for another try, quickly sawing through two more strands before making one final jerk to cut through the last strand. "Oh, shit." He fell free, dropping the last five feet to the hard, concrete floor. ------------------------------------- His vision was blurry, very blurry. He blinked several times, but it did not clear. He started shaking his head and slapping his face. It didn't work. He could barely hear the heavy footsteps, very close now. A blur shouted a cry of fury and leapt upon him. He felt a pair of hands maintain a strong grip on his throat, pressing dowbn in an attempt to choke him. Wraith's hands frantically reached behind his head for anything. There! He grabbed something metal and swung hard at the man's head. THWACK! The man reeled back, clutching his head. Wraith's vision finally cleared up completely. He started to rise up, and swung at the man's head again. THWACK! He was on his feet. He struck again. THWACK! The man was on the floor now. He struck again. THWACK! And again. THWACK! And again. THWACK! Calahan continued to strike until blood sprayed up, spattering his face and staining his uniform. THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! After a dozen strikes with the metal pipe, Wraith regained control of himself, the adrenaline wearing off. The man's head was nothing but mush and brain matter. Wraith dropped the pipe and staggered back against the wall, clutching his chest. Suddenly, there were noises above. Like men carrying a lot of equipment. Wraith quickly limped threw a series of doors to exit the warehouse into the dark, wet streets. He struggled down the street into the concealing sheets of rain. The men who arrived on the scene were not Marines. But they were equally disturbed by the sight of Francois de Holle's body as anyone else would be. |
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| Wraith | 23 Nov 2008, 11:13 AM Post #15 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XIII Erikson just froze, staring wide-eyed at the door. The Minister was trembling behind him. "M-my God, is this what you men do on a daily basis?" Erikson snapped out of the trance and shook his head. "Most of the time, ma'am. We," he grabbed her hand and started pulling her along down the hallway. "have to move, before they break through that door. C'mon, ma'am." The hallway eventually ended with an exit to the streets outside. It was still raining hard. Erikson checked the streets, aiming his rifle. "Let's go ma'am, keep up!" he said, dashing across the street to a dark, old warehouse. She followed. Erikson kicked in the metal door, which snapped off the rusty hinge easily, and went inside. "And this was one of my best gowns, too..." "This was best uniform. Speaking of which, I'm a beacon in this color," Erikson stripped off the bright red tunic, ripped off the campaign medals, and tossed it aside into a dark corner. "Ma'am, I...uh...suggest you change into something more suitable to the situation." Morgan just stared at him. "Ex-cuse me? Unlike you, I have no undershirt, Mr. Marine!" "Then we'll have to find you one, ma'am." There was a hum outside. A jeep had just passed by. "Shit! Oh, uh, sorry ma'am. We need to move, they might stop to-" At that moment the jeep stopped, and door clanged open. "Damn, damn, damn! Let's get inside the main room, ma'am." ------------------------------------------------------------ Alone. Erikson quickly darted his head around the pile of machinery, peering into the darkness that enveloped the abandoned, rusting warehouse. No enemies. Yet. This was it. He knew it. He would die here. He didn't know what had happened to the others. He'd seen Bellik go down - dead for sure. That assassin - or whatever he was - had jumped on the Gunny. That had been the last thing he saw - Gunny Calahan had pushed him through the door with the Secretary, then the assassin had knocked him over and leapt upon him - and then there was a shriek of pain just as the door closed. Everyone was scattered. It was just him and the Secretary, in the middle of a hostile city. Everyone was trying to kill him and take her hostage. That was one of two ways this would end - that way, or they would both get out alive. That had been his charge, and that was what he would do. Erikson listened. Footsteps. Splashes. Someone was coming. He slowly raised his rifle and took aim. Just him and her in the middle of a hostile city. Alone. Five shadows strolled into the warehouse, flashlights on their rifles combing the room. Erikson squinted hard, but couldn't see any of them very well. "Damn it," he whispered. "No armor, no camo, no goddamn HUD!" He ducked up again and took aim. The flashlights were getting closer. He squeezed off a trio of shots into the nearest one. The shadow and light crumpled. Erikson immediately shifted targets and fired another burst. That target dropped like a stone. Because his rifle had no muzzle flash, they couldn't get an accurate fix on his position. The three remaining men fired wildly. With the remainder of his clip, Erikson cut them all down. "We have to move, FAST! Hang on!" Erikson rushed over to one of the dead men and stripped him of weapons, ammo, and his shirt and pants. He ran back over to Morgan. "Here, ma'am. Once we find a good place, you can change into these." "These? These are-" "Necessary, ma'am. You'll find it a lot easier to move in these clothes," Erikson slung the dead man's automatic assault rifle over his shoulder and stuffed the ammo clips into the pockets of a scavenged ammo belt. There were shouting voices approaching. "Let's go! Go, go, go!" He pushed her through a nearby door, and through another, and another. They went through five small rooms before reaching another one, with nothing in it but a ladder. Okay, wait here," Erikson rushed forward, kicked in the next door, then kicked in the last door ahead, leading out onto the street. He ran back to the room. "Okay, up the ladder ma'am. No tellin' what's up there, but I assure you it's a helluva lot better than down here!" |
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