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| Finest Hour; CCRPG Marines Compiliation IV | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: 9 May 2009, 01:55 AM (1,120 Views) | |
| Wraith | 9 May 2009, 01:55 AM Post #1 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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PROLOGUE Verdun The occasional sharp crack pierced the absolutely silent air every few seconds - methodically, aimed, and deadly. Hundreds of bodies covered the charred ground for at least a mile. The scene was the same across the entire city - if it could be called a city anymore. Almost every building in the entire city had been flattened - not even piles of rubble remained standing more than three feet above the ground. Dozens of half-collapsed trenches criss-crossed the decastated landscape. Fires continued to burn all over - so numerous and so brightly that they seemed to make an already-orange sunset blood red. A body on the ground stirred. Groaning, he raised an arm and attemped to crawl away. CRACK! The body stopped moving this time. Two hundred yards away, up a small hill, Gunnery Sergeant Jack Calahan lowered his rifle. Sitting cross-legged on relatively flat ground, he set the rifle aside and stuck a cigar back into his mouth, puffing silently. In his lap, he slowly stroked a purring, matte-black cat, which was curled up into a ball, sleeping comfortably. "You ever going to cut out that racket?" Gunnery Sergeant Tom Corrion asked, approaching. "The war's not over yet," Calahan replied, removing the cigar. "I still have scores to settle." He quickly picked up his rifle again and fired once. Looking carefully, he set it down again after several seconds. Corrion sat down next to him and spat off to the side. "Still have that damn cat, huh?" Calahan blew smoke. "His name's Tom, Tom." Corrion raised an eyebrow. "That's a little creepy, Jack..." "No, no. Tom the Cat. Tom-Cat. Get it?" Calahan said, his trademark cool, flat monototone unchanging. "Har har, Jack. You make terrible puns." The two marines sat in silence for several minutes. Calahan spotted movement and shot it as well. "The FIST lost a lot o' boys the last couple o' weeks," Corrion said, breaking the silence. "Yeah. But we gave 'em hell," Calahan picked up his rifle and fired again. Corrion looked out over the expansive devastation before them. "Only thing that can compare is Rock Island after the fact." "Yeah. Beautiful, isn't it?" Corrion gave him a disturbed look, then looked back out. Silance, again. "Got a light?" "Sure," Calahan said. he withdrew a cigar from his silver-chrome case and handed it to Corrion. Sticking it in his mouth and leaning forward, he let Calahan ignite the end with his lighter. They sat there and smoked for a long time. OOC: Pin plz |
![]() CCRPG Marines Currently: Compilation IV: Finest Hour | |
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| Wraith | 9 May 2009, 05:01 PM Post #2 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER I Fort Morvan, Verdun, Five Days Ago "Whooo!" Sergeant "Dutch" Sanol whooped, rushing over and sitting down next to his fire team, four small bottles clamped in his hands. "Some celebtration!" he said, passing them out to his men. Private First Class Darthan Isis took one and looked at it. His stoic expression turned to one of shock. "Holy shit, sarge! Ol' Roger Parton's Finest! Where the fuck did you get these?" "Friends of Cow are friends with benefits, my friend," Sanol replied, taking a long gulp. "You don't see much old Rezelian stuff anymore," said Corporal Will Mannerheim, bottle half-empty. "Damn, they made the best whiskey." "I hear Cow 'imself's got a full case o' Chateau DuMont '67 back home," said Lance Corporal Logan Padrino. Isis lowered his bottle, another shocked expression on his face. "Bullshit." "No shit." "Bullshit. Nobody has a full case of DuMont 2367. Ever." "You," Sanol said, finishing off his bottle, "do not know Cow Maxwell." -------------------------------------------------------- "Lee's replacement is easy enough to find," Ensign Kurt "Ares" Glystern said to his senior sergeant. "Just follow the order of succession." "Irick did well out there," said Staff Sergeant Alex Synair, First Squad leader. "I...look forward to seeing him in this little circle." he said. Even if he is Zeonese, Alex thought. "Yes, I've already given him a field promotion to Staff Sergeant. Punch him for me." Alex smiled and nodded. "Aye, sir!" "Roland'll be harder to replace. Bladon is senior corporal, but he's from assault team." "LePallin'll be pissed," said Staff Sergeant Ben Thamus, Third Squad leader. "He'll be pissed, thn. Bladon's been passed over twice already," Ares finished. "Now, Lundy's team: Who the hell do I make Corporal?" "Shert?" Alex suggested. "He's up for-" "He's replacing LeFaye, dumbass. Ben, hit him for me." Ben slapped Alex in the back of the head. "Hey! Honest mistake!" "Wraith, what do you think?" Gunnery Sergeant Jack "Wraith" Calahan, First Platoon's platoon sergeant, had remained silent up to now. "I'll convince Aster to take the billet," he said. The other three men stopped and stared at him. Alex was gaping. "But...he...no one can-" "I will," Calahan said. "It's not much of a stretch, you know." Alex snapped back to reality. "Okay, it's settled then. Irick gets Staff Sergeant, Ape takes his team, and Bladon takes Roland's. Meeting adjourned." ------------------------------------------------------ "Hey fellas!" Corporal "Deadhead" Lashio called to his squadmates. He had been badly wounded a few days before, and was just now rejoining the company. "Hey, Deadhead!" they called back. "Come on and sit over here, mate!" shouted Corporal Selucis, his best friend. Deadhead strode over and plopped down on the ground next to him. "No cough, mate?" Selucis asked, handing him a cigarette. "No cough, mate." Selucis lit up his friend's cigarette. "I heard Lee bought it," Deadhead said. "Yeah. Irick's takin' over Second Squad." "He's alright." "I suppose." "I see fewer familiar faces all over. Carr? Roland?" "Dead. We should be getting new men in from the Romeo Company soon." --------------------------------------------------------- Calahan coughed, spraying some blood onto his fist. Growling softly, he wiped the hand on his vest as he pulled a small plastic bottle from a vest pocket. Coughing bloodily once more, he popped the lid of the bottle and poured its contents into his hand - only two pills. Growling again, in frustration this time, he shook the bottle. Nothing else came out. "Damn it," he muttered, tossing the empty bottle away. Popping the pills into his mouth and taking a sip of water, he sighed slightly in relief. He then walked off to the quartermaster's office. ------------------------------------------------------------- "Hey, QM," Calahan said, leaning against the counter. "Got a pharmacy in here?" "Yeah, we're a base. Need something?" "I need four bottles of this painkiller and four Sorephine epipens." The quartermaster snorted. "Go away before I report you," he said, chuckling. Calahan withdrew a folded piece of paper from another pocket and tossed it at him. The quartermaster unfolded it, read it, and scowled. "Fine," he snapped. The quartermaster disappeared for several minutes, then returned with the medical supplies. "Thank you," Calahan said, gathering up the bottles and epipens and stuffing them into his vest pockets. "Yeah, fuck you, too!" the quartermaster called as he walked out. Once outside, Calahan opened one of the bottles and pour out six pills. Once he swallowed them, he breathed a deep sigh of relief. OOC: Still need a PIN Also, like I said before, several of you still don't have first names. If you want a first name, let me know. |
![]() CCRPG Marines Currently: Compilation IV: Finest Hour | |
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| Wraith | 10 May 2009, 10:18 PM Post #3 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER II Soveriegnty Avenue Private Walter Calbren, 82nd Infantry Division, opened up the firing chamber of the machine gun and swept away the dust. Taking out the ammo belt, he slapped it several times, shaking out more dust and small ferrrocrete pebbles from it. Replacing the belt, he closed the firing chamber and cocked the weapon. "You damn foo'," muttered Corporal Maltras Galloway, his teammate. "You clean that MG too much, and it'll start shining." "Maybe. If the sun ever shines," Calbren replied. "Relax, boy," Galloway said, leaning back on the firing step of the trench. "They jus' finished attackin' here. They ain't gonna come back fer a while." "Yeah, and it'll stop raining sometime soon," Calbren joked. "Walt's right, Galloway," Sergeant Bole Wypcott, their fire team leader, cut in. "'Constant vigilance!' quoth the infantryman's bible." "No it doesn't!" Galloway said. "I'm paraphrasing. But-" Suddenly, thunder rumbled in the distance - thunder far too loud and long-lasting to be natural. "COVER!" Wypcott bellowed. "Dugouts! Go!" The men along the entire trench scrambled into their dugouts as the shells crashed down. However, abnormally, the bombardment ceased abruptly after only five minutes. "Out!" Wypcott ordered, pushing men back out of the dugout. The waves and columns of tanks were visible, only meters from the trench. Private Calbren immediately manned the machine gun and began spraying rounds into the partially exposed infantry advancing around them in short, controlled, bursts. "Malt, grab the HAW and fire! FIRE!" Wypcott ordered, waving his arms wildly. Lance Corporal Sordid Compenway raised his LAW launcher, but was cut down by a burst from a tank's machine gun. Galloway swore and fired the HAW, killing a tank. His sole HAW rocket spent, he grabbed the LAW and fired it, too. The rocket exploded, but did not slow the tank for instant. As he was reloading the LAW, a platoon of rebel infantry appeared above the trench to the left, and they emptied their rifles as far as they could see. ----------------------------------------------------- "Keep going! We've broken through!" cheered Colonel Manson Sloan, waving tanks and troops forward. A squadron of gunships flew forward, saturating the next street with missiles and rocket pods. "Hell yes! I'm proud of you boys!" "Colonel, sir!" a soldier shouted, approaching with two disarmed Confederation soldiers. "What do we do about prisoners?" Sloan drew his sidearm and shot both in the chest. "Take no prisoners! We waste to time today!" ------------------------------------------------------------ Command Center, Fort Morvan Lieutenant General Hans Bearing stood silently before the situation holomap, a somber expression on his face. "They just broke the line at National Parkway," said Major General Garrus Magorian, on the opposite side of the table. "If they keep up this kind of momentum, they'll be in the fort by evening." "Damn it all!" Bearing cursed, slamming his fist on the table. "What do we have left?" "The 117th FIST and 21st Division are falling back to Freedom Drive to regroup. The 82nd Division is split in half and routed." "I mean reserves, dammit!" "We-we have 94th and 38th FISTs resting and refitting here in the fort. But-" "Put them in! Now! We need to stop this attack here!" Bearing shouted, pointing at the street-trench at the edge of the fort. ------------------------------------------------- "Okay, First Herd, form up!" Ares ordered, walking into the assembly area with Calahan and seven other, unfamiliar, Marines. The platoon leapt to its feet and was in parade ground formation within minutes. Listen up! We just got in replacements from Romeo and- shut up! Shut it, Marines!" Ares yelled, shouting down the platoon-wide snickering. "I expect you to show them the same amount of respect you would afford me! Now, Gunny Calahan will assign these men to fire teams. I have to meet with Captain Ryan." Calahan stepped forward, holding a datapad. "Okay," his voice boomed. "Gibson, One-One! Howard, Three-One! Chan, Dearing, One-Three! Freeman, Miller, Two-Three! Ma-" Calahan paused for a moment. There a cross, stuck in the ground before him, towering over him. He blinked. It was gone. "...Manning, One-Two." Several of the men gave him puzzled looks. "You alright, Boss?" Ben asked, eyes narrowed. "Yes, I'm fine. Replacements, get going! Find your team leaders!" Calahan barked. He shook some pills out of the bottle and popped them into his mouth. -------------------------------------------------- "We're moving out, now," Ryan said, strapping on his armor. "What?" Ares asked, an incredulous look on his face. "We're. Moving. Out. The Coalition broke through the entire frontline an hour ago. Get your boys ready." "Err...yes, sir! Immediately, sir!" ------------------------------------------------------------- "No, God dem et!" Aster cursed. "Ah'm perfectleh fine as a lance!" "Damn it, Aster, Corporal isn't much more responsibility," Calahan said. "I don't cay. Ah've been a lance fah nigh sev'ten yares." "Look, I know you like the simple life of a grunt Marine. But you'll have to move up sometime." "No, I wun't." "Think! As a Corporal, you won't have to worry about screwy repple-Corporals. Plus, you'll get a grenade launcher, if we ever get them." Aster paused in thought for a few moments. "Look, we don't have anyone else up for Corporal's billet. We-" "Fine, ah'll tek et. But onlah ta stop the damn reppel-Corporals. And I like grenade launchers." Calahan smiled. ----------------------------------------------------------- "So, how new are ya?" Lance Corporal Lewis "Idiot" Erikson asked the new replacement, Jeremy Gibson. "Started on parris a year 'n' a half ago. Joined Romeo Niner-Four two weeks before this." "Damn!" Erikson said, surprised. "You're newer than I-" "FIRST HERD, GEAR UP! NOW! WE'RE MOVIN' OUT!" Ares bellowed, suddenly appearing, fumbling with the clips on his outer vest. First Platoon jolted to life and scrambled willy-nilly for their weapons and armor. OOC: STILL need a pin. |
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| Wraith | 14 May 2009, 03:40 PM Post #4 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER III Victory Road "Down in here, now!" Ares ordered, jumping down into the trench. The platoon followed suit, and set up on the firing step immediately. "They'll be here any second! Get ready!" Ares shouted, bent low and running along the trench. "Ares!" shouted Captain Ryan, approaching, trailed by Lieutenant "Red" Bandon and First Sergeant "Cow" Maxwell. "Check fire! Elements of the 82nd are falling back through here!" "Roger that!" Ares replied. "What if they don't stand and fight?" asked Calahan. "We're fighting the enemy, Wraith, not our own," said Red. "A coward is my enemy." "They will stand and fight," said Ryan, "We'll make sure of it." ------------------------------------------------ "Y'know," said Selucis, "It's kind of ironic." "What?" asked Deadhead. "That they called this 'Victory Road.'" "Why is that ironic?" "Because," Sergeant Cody "Wolf" McGraw, cut in, "if they break through here, they win." "oh." "Deadhead, you're an idiot," Sergeant Sam McKnight said, slapping him over the back of his helmet. "Hey! I-" "OI! Shut it and concetrate on what's in front of you!" Red snapped. "You fightin' with us, Red?" Wolf asked, "What happened to Mershon? I thought he was your favorite." "Fourth Platoon got cut up in that last offensive. Jim got killed." "...Jesus." "But sir, you're an officer. Shouldn't you all be back in the fort?" Deadhead asked. Wolf slapped him hard on the back of the head. "Ow!" "Son, you know all officers were enlisted men first," Red said, "I know how to fight. And by God, we're gonna need every man we can get!" --------------------------------------------------- "Here come the doggies, tails between their legs," said Alex. "Hold your fire," Ryan said. He activated his voice amplifier. "Soldiers, halt your retreat and join up on this line. That is a direct order!" Roughly half the soldiers jumped down into the trench with the company, but the rest continued to rout. "I say again, STAND FAST!" "Get back here, you cowards!" Calahan yelled, aiming at some of the men running towards the fort. "Stop or I will shoot!" The men ignored him. Taking a deep breath, and exhaling, Calahan methodically fired one round into the back of most of the men he could see. No one decided to rout anymore. ------------------------------------------------------------ "Captain Ryan, Delta Company, 94th FIST. What's going on up there?" Ryan asked one of the soldiers, who wore officer insignia. "Ensign Kyle Brenner, bravo Company, 82nd Division. They're right on our heels, mate, tanks, gunships, the works," he panted. "Take command of all the do- soldiers here. We need you on line." "Yes, si-GUNSHIPS INCOMING!" A volley of rocket pods exploded all around, showering the men with shrapnel, mud, and ferrocrete. As a pair of rebel gunships flew over, a SAM shot up from the ground and blotted one from the sky. Several APCs and IFVs appeared, cruising up the street and crashing over ruined buildings. "LAWs, LAWs! Save your heavy ammo!" Ares barked. Lance Corporal Raoul LeGrand unslung his LAW launcher and fired, killing an APC. Several rockets fired from Second Platoon, killing even more and cooking any infantry inside. The surviving APCs opened fire with their 40mm autocannons, suppressing Second Platoon. "Take 'em out, now!" Ares ordered. Corporal Mauve Shert and Lance Corporal "Mac" MacTavish opened fire and destroyed the final two, blowing away the infantry squads piling out of them. "TANKS! I see a tank, and infantry!" Sergeant "Lundy" Lundhorn shouted, "A lot of infantry!" He opened fire with his Long-Range Rifle. "Prepare to fire!" Calahan shouted. "Range - four hundred meters! Open fire at two hundred!" "HAW at the ready!" shouted Sergeant Jason Garnett, taking aim with the large launcher tube. "I expect everything from you here, right now, and until we push back this offensive!" Captain Ryan bellowed, pacing behind them, "No retreat! We stay here alive, or we stay here dead!" More tanks began to appear. A gunship roared by, sending a missile into Second Platoon. An anti-air gun from the fort tore it to shreds. Ryan climbed up onto the firing step and took aim. "We get through this, and I promise I'll get some good stuff for everyone!" Cow yelled from down the line. "HUZZAH!" the platoon roared. Booze makes a cause worthy. "Range - two hundred twenty meters!" Calahan shouted. "Here...we...go," Ryan muttered, "OPEN FIRE!" |
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| Wraith | 21 May 2009, 04:14 PM Post #5 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER IV Home, World "...as a result, it is of the opinion of the Oversight Committee on the Conduct of War that President Joseph Whitehall - and his Confederate Party cronies - have grossly mishandled the direction of the war!" Senator Mesran "The Bear" Bayer boomed to his fellow members of the Confederation General Assembly. He was answered with angry shouts of protest from the Confederates, and roaring cheers of approval from his Popular Front comrades. "Furthermore," Bayer continued, "I have recently come into possession of records implicating several Confederate Party members - including the President himself - in a conspiracy to decieve the public!" That brought a deafening uproar from the Floor. Several Popular Front representative began attack Confederate opponents, and vice versa. "Order! Order!" the Speaker of the Assembly, Theodore Morris, bellowed, slamming down his gavel. "SERGEANT-AT-ARMS!" Chief Master Sergeant Roran Black, Confederation Army and sergeant-at-arms of the General Assembly, spoke into a small comm unit in the lapel of his uniform coat. Within seconds, the CMF security detail rushed into the room, breaking up the brawls by any means necessary. "We will have order!" Morris boomed, "Thisa is a hall of government, not a run-down bar!" "Mr. Speaker, if I may finish?" Bayer asked. Morris scowled, but relented, nodding. "President Whitehall, I challenge you to do the right thing! You have taken too much control over this Confederation, and you have forced my hand!" "Okay, stop the tape," President Joseph Whitehall said to his aide. "Damn him! Damn that man!" he cursed, furrowing his brow and clenching his teeth. "Kirk, we find out what he has yet?" "Yes, sir," said Kirk Hayes, his Chief of Staff, "He came into possession of file US-k101258B, also known as the 'Kyrkberg After Action Report.'" Whitehall jerked upright in his chair. "Good Lord! How in Hell did he get a-hold of that?" "His chief of staff, Boris Kulozov, has many connections. he discovered who had access to it, then made several hefty bribes." Whitehall's head shook with fury. "I certainly hope you dealt with the traitors. Disclosure of Ultra Secret is-" "-a capital offense. Yes, sir, they have been dealt with." "No, we can't touch a Senator, or Kulozov. So what do we do about them?" "CIA located the file - a simple safe in one of Bayer's 'safe rooms,' at the Watermill Hotel." Whitehall turned to Hayes, a smirk on his face. "Are you suggesting something, good sir?" "No, sir. I only advise in the interests of interstellar security." Whitehall's smirk lengthened. "Get me General Breckinridge." ------------------------------------------------- In the office of General Tobias Breckinridge, Chief of Staff, Confederation Special Operations Forces, the comm units beeped. Breckinridge was a hulking brute of a man, with a thick, deep, South Rezelian-West Y'kthali accent. Being a former Confederation Army Ranger, Breckinridge towered over even the largest military men. "Breckinridge," he answered. "This is Kirk Hayes." Breckinridge sat up in his seat abruptly. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of this call, sir, eh?" "The President has an assignment for your best, snatch 'n' grab, classified Ultra Secret." "yes, sir! I'll dispatch a team of Force Recon Marines. Do you have a briefing packet?" "Err...I'm sorry, General, but the president wants me to do the briefing myself. No intermediaries." A thought dawned on Breckinridge. "I understand, sir. I will file the After Action Report under US-F250135R, eh." On the other end, Hayes smiled Good man, he thought. US-F only went to 2500. "I will expedite your men access to safehouse 6466. Wish them luck, General." --------------------------------------------------------- Hayes deactivated the comm. "General Breckinridge understands. I'll be briefing his team at 6466." "Good. When Morrin retires, I'll see Breckinridge makes Marshal." "Sir, if you could alert Secret Service..." "Oh yes, of course," Whitehall worked on his personal computer for several seconds, then leaned back. "Done. They'll have access." "I'm off, then." "Wait, Kirk, before you leave, tell Jeff I want to see him." "Sure thing." Hayes left, and a few minutes later, Jeffrey Moxxin, Minister of Defense, knocked on the door. "Come on in." Moxxin did. "You wanted to see me, Mr. President?" "Yes. I'm preparing an Executive Shuttle for you. I want you to inspect Fifth Fleet, whip Admiral Barringer into shape." "Very well, sir. When do I leave?" "Four hours. You better pack your things." |
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| Wraith | 23 May 2009, 04:28 PM Post #6 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER V Victory Road Three HAW rockets streaked over the ground and slammed into three tanks, punching through the thick frontal armor like a knife through hot butter and exploding inside. A turret spinning several feet into the air, cannons flashed, sending clouds of dust and mud into the sky. "Pick targets! Infantry at ten, eleven, and two!" Captain Ryan yelled, firing his rifle carefully. More tanks lumbered forward, past the burning junkyard of APCs. A rocket lanced straight through the center of one, stopping it dead in its tracks. "I'm outta HAWs!" Jason shouted, throwing the tube away. The survivors of Second Platoon expended the last of their LAW rockets into the flank of the column, killing or disabling the remaining tanks. "Infantry in close! Thirty meters!" someone shouted. Lance Corporal Erikson, facing a set of ruined buildings, saw a black speck appear on the horizon. He aimed and fired, causing the speck, a head, to jerk back and disappear. Suddenly, a round grenade landed in the trench next to him. "Grenades!" Red bellowed, suddenly appearing. With lightning reflexes, he scooped up the grenade and heaved it back over the rubble. Two more grenades soared through the air. "Cover!" Red ordered. He picked up one grenade and threw it back, but it exploded a few feet in front of him, peppering Red with shrapnel and knocking him to the ground. "Down!" a Marine from nearby Third Platoon cried, falling to the ground. There was a muffled explosion, and the marine bucked. He didn't get up again. "They're comin'!" someone shouted. Erikson turned and saw it was Calahan. "Stand your ground!" Calahan fired three shots into two of three charging rebel soldiers, and his rifle clicked dry. Instantly dropping his rifle and snatching the .45 from his hip, he fired one quick shot and dropped the last man with a hole in his head. An entire squad jumped into the trench with Third Squad's first fire team. Wolf's reflexes reaction instantly, slashing one man's throat with a knife. He yanked a spike grenade from his belt and grabbed the nearest rebel. Stabbing the spike into the man's chest, Wolf kicked him back into where the rest of the rebel squad was clustered. ------------------------------------------------------ Spirit Street Colonel Sloan lowered his binoculars, face shaking with fury. "We've lost our momentum . They must have put in that goddamn 94th FIST," he growled. "What?" asked one of his soldier guards. "Their reserve, you dumb shit! They had Marines in reserve!" Sloan yelled. He raised his binoculars to his eyes and watched as his unsupported infantry were slaughtered. "Comm! Call in artillery!" "Sir? We still have men down-" "DO IT!" Sloan roared. "Charlie Two, this is Joker Three. Request mission..." --------------------------------------------------- Victory Road "RAGH!" Jason gruntly loudly, shattering the last man's face with a swing of the empty HAW rocket tube. He dropped the bent, battered weapon and withdrew a broken bayonet point from his shoulder plate. "Clear!" he panted. Ben pulled his knife from a rebel's chest and tried to wipe blood from his visor with a bloody gauntlet, unsuccessfully. "Third Squad, clear!" "A little...busy...here!" Ares grunted loudly, holding a rebel in a chokehold. The man tried to elbow him in the groin, but only succeeded in breaking his elbow, screaming in pain. Ares finally managed to snap the man's neck and dropped his limp body to the ground, panting heavily. "First and Second are still engaged! Go help th-" "Medic!" Alex cried, dragging someone down the trench. Corporal Timothy Goldstein appeared from a dugout and leapt over the bodies covering the ground. As Goldstein knelt down over the Marine, Alex stood up and saluted Ares. "First Squad's almost done. Just mopping up." "Who's that?" "Red. Tried to throw back a 'nade and it blew up four feet in front of him." "Ouch." "Yeah. Isis and Brad are hit, but not too bad. I can't find Dearing, th-" BOOM! Something big exploded only a few feet away. "MORTARS!" Ryan's unmistakable yell bellowed. "Cover!" Ares ordered. BOOM! BOOM! Calahan, with First Squad, shot his last opponent through the head, execution-style, with his pistol and threw Erikson into the dugout by his collar. Looking around quickly, he saw Corporal Shert dragging an unconsious Sergeant Bradley to cover and Aster punching out the last living rebel. BOOM! A mortar exploded feet in front of the trench, showering Calahan with fragments. He moved into the dugout entrance, beckoning soldiers and Marines inside. A mortar exploded inside the trench, ripping apart PFC Oliver Howard before blacking Calahan out. OOC: Been lazy with updates here, but that's because I'm keeping way ahead of schedule on paper. I've written up to Chapter IX |
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| Wraith | 25 May 2009, 09:40 PM Post #7 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER VI Home, World, Executive Safehouse 6466 Master Sergeant Kalaius Sherman leaned against the wall, arms folded, in the corner of the room. It wasn't every day that a military unit, even Force Reconaissance, was given a direct assignment from the President. Hell, he had never heard of any non-brass ever given access to an Executive Safehouse. "Well, when's this guy gonna get here?" asked Staff Sergeant Harry Bosworth, leaning back in a chair, feet propped on a desk. "You mean the Chief of Staff himself?" asked Gunnery Sergeant George Mason, Sherman's second. "When he wants to. We're dirty footsloggers. He's Kirk goddamn Hayes!" "I thought this was supposed to be important," said Bosworth. "It is important," said Staff Sergeant Mark Bergeron, the most junior member of the team. "Not if he's taking this long. What do you think, K?" Sherman's right eye twitched. He hated his first name. "I think you should get your goddamn feet off that desk," he growled. "Sorry, sarge," Bosworth apologized, quickly taking down his feet. "It started raining an hour ago. That might be a big part of it," said Mason. Home, the capital of Confederation, was situated in former Rezelian Centreland. Recent climate changes had caused occasional, but extremely dangerous, thundercells, popularly known as "storms on 'roids." "Hey, they me whether I fight or not," Sherman said. The rest of the men chuckled. --------------------------------------------------------- Home, World, Marty's Drinks & Friends "Sir," Boris Kulozov said, uneasily, "I prefer meeting at the Bar 'n' Grill." "Relax, Boris. Take a seat," said Senator Mesran Bayer, taking a sip of vodka. "Sir," Kulozov repeated, taking a seat, "what if you are seen by the press with one of Marty's 'Friends'?" Bayer laughed and slammed the empty glass down on the table. "What good is paying off the press when you have to worry about it? If I want to go to my favorite bar, then by God, I'm going to my favorite bar!" One of the scantily-clad waitresses appeared and took his glass. "'Nother vodka, sweetheart," he said. He slapped her rear as she turned to leave and laughed heartily. "Sir, please!" Kulozov said, "You haven't paid off Roger Perry. You're a very recognizable face, even in this part of town. Especially here." Bayer leaned forward. "no, no no no, no, no," he droned groggily, "Clearly, you don't have any...vodka in you. let's fix that...while you, talk to me about...the press reaction. Waitress!" A few minutes later, both men were drunk and laughing with each other. "So how - how has W-W-Whitehall reacted?" Bayer asked. "He hasn't shed any'ing," said Kulozov, "He should be making a...a...err...a statement, that's it! He'll make one shoon enuffff..." A waitress came by to retrieve their glasses. Kulozov suddenly guffawed and pounded the table with his head and fists. Looking up, red-faced and smiling broadly, he said, "Maybe, when you're in the top spot, you can get one o' these places in the President's...err...House! Yeah, house!" "I'll drink to that, friend!" ---------------------------------------------------------- Home, World, Safehouse 6466 The door into the room was suddenly opened by a Conferation Secret Service agent, jerking Bosworth awake. Kirk Hayes appeared in the doorway, shedding a drenched raincoat to another agent. "Terrible weather," he said. The rain pounding on the roof nearly drowned out his voice. "Understatement, sir," Sherman said, saluting. "At ease, gentlemen," Hayes said, sitting down at the desk Bosworth had been sitting at. He pressed a couple of buttons, and a vidscreen slid down from inside the ceiling. "Whoa," Bergeron and Bosworth muttered. "Gentlemen," Hayes started, "this is an extremely important assignment. It is classified Ultra Secret. You know what that means." "Disclosure of information if a capital offense. Yes, sir," Sherman said. Bergeron and Bosworth looked uneasy - Mason's expression remained stone cold. "You may dispense with the formalities, Master Sergeant. I wish to speak man-to-man here," Hayes said, activating the vidscreen, "This is the Watermill Hotel. There is something of great value to the Confederation in a safe in Room 852. You are to infiltrate, retrieve the item - a folder of documents - and exfiltrate without leaving any evidence of a military operation." "What's so important abo-" Bosworth started. Sherman cut him off. "Rules of Engagement, sir?" "Non-lethal, no discussion on that, keep this under the radar. I did not speak to you at any time." "Understood. Don't worry, sir, we're the best you can get." "Oh really? I'd certainly hope so." "Trained by 'Boss' Foley himself, sir." "Err...good. This is your op now. Jump off at your discretion, but make it ASAP." "Understood, sir." |
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| Wraith | 31 May 2009, 09:05 PM Post #8 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER VII Victory Road Calahan came to and immediately saw someone standing over him. His reflexes went into action as he instantly drew his knife and jerked upright, pinning the figure to the ground. "WHOA, Boss!" Corporal Joseph Kindret's voice said. Calahan realized he was about to kill the medic. "Sorry," he grunted, leaning back and sheathing the knife. "How long've I been out?" "All of two minutes," Alex cut in. "Took a nasty hit. Shrapnel right to the visor. You're alright, but yer helmet's dead," Kindret said. "Fucking hell, that's the third time this week." "Oi, Doc!" Corporal Shert called, "Brad's coming to!" Kindret stood up and dashed over. Abruptly, the muffled rumble above them ceased. "Bombardment's up! Everyone out!" Alex barked, beckoning men forward and out. Just as second fire team, PFC Isis in the lead, exited, a burst of fire rang out, and Isis went down. "They're right on top of us!" Sanol shouted, "More incoming!" "Alex, call it!" Calahan ordered. "Yankee Eight-Six, this is Mike Niner-Four Delta One-One! Request fire mission, Grid Coordinates Delta Delta Four-Eight to Five-Five! Danger close, over!" "Roger that. Spot, over!" A single artillery shell roared over and hit spot on in the midst of a group of infantry. "On mark! Fire for effect!" --------------------------------------------------- Command Center, Fort Morvan "We're holding, sir, barely," Brigadier Wolfe said, "At least half the 82nd fled back here. You must [ut them back in!" "Done. General Magorian?" Magorian nodded. "Yes, sir. But we are also running dangerously low on artillery shells." "How much do we have?" "Enough for one more day's worth of current expenditures." Bearing paused in debate for a couple minutes. "Cease all artillery fire across the front and ration shells. Batteries are not allowed to fire without direct approval from me." "Yes, sir." "Sir!" Wolfe blurted, shocked, "That artillery is keeping my Marines alive! If you cut it off now, they'll be killed and broken." Bearing gave him a very stern look. "Brigadier, your men have performed capably enough before. I trust they can trust themselves with their own lives." ---------------------------------------------- Victory Road Abruptly, the shells stopped falling. Alex looked in horror as the screen lifted. "Yankee Eight-Six, this is Delta! What the fuck are you doing? Keep firing!" "Negative, Delta. We were ordered to cease fire. Out." Alex paused in shock for several seconds before snapping back to reality. "Alex, what the fuck is going on?" Calahan asked. "They-they were ordered to cease fire," Alex stuttered, "The bastards are leaving us out to dry!: "TANKS!" someone bellowed, "Tanks and gunships!" Sure enough, a mass of tanks rolled through the dust cloud left by the artillery. Three gunships roared over and released clumps of rocket pods. A SAM shot up, killing one. "HAWs at the ready, NOW!" Ryan's voice boomed. Corporal Shert stepped up with the tube, took aim, and fired, killing one. "I'm out!" he shouted, tossing the launcher away. A few feet away, Lance Corporal LeGrand fired his team's last HAW, killing another. "We're all out, Captain!" Jason shouted. Ryan went pale as fear gripped him. "Attack with the LAWs! The LAWs, damn it!" he screamed. At least a dozen LAWs shot out from Delta Company's area. Two tanks burst into flame and one ground to a halt, one set of tracks destroyed. "Use grenades when they get close! To the-" A tank shell slammed into the ground nearby, and Ryan went down. "Medic!" Ares shouted, dragging Ryan's unconcious body towards the dugout. Doc Goldstein appeared and dragged the captain inside. "Delta Unit, this is Delta One-Six. Delta Six and Delta Five are down! This is One-Six, taking command!" ------------------------------------------------- "APCs!" Ben shouted, pointing at the vehicles zooming ahead of the tanks. "Jason, target 'em!" "Target, eleven o' clock, plus three!" Jason yelled. "Sighted!" Corporal Tiduos replied. He fired the LAW and killed an APC. "Reloading! Last rocket!" "Infantry, comin' out!" Wolf warned, raising his rifle and firing at soldiers piling out of a vehicle. Tiduos jammed down the rocket, raised the launcher, and fired. The APC exploded, sending soldiers sprawling onto the ground. "I'm out!" "Two squads!" Ben shouted, pointing them out. "Ruins at one and junkyard at twelve!" "Hang on!" a couple of soldiers shouted, "MG up!" "Fuck yes!" Ben cheered, "Set up, we'll cover!" The two soldiers hauled the machine gun onto the parapet and set it on its tripod. "Set!" one shouted, cocking it. The other fed a belt of ammunition into the firing chamber. The gun ripped, killing several soldiers in one squad and forcing the others to the ground. The gun swiveled to engage the other squad when a bullet ricocheted off the ground and hit the gunner in the neck. "Fuck!" the feeder swore. He switched to man the trigger when a tank shell exploded two feet in front of them, throwing everyone back onto the ground. A LAW rocket collided with the tank and glanced off the front. "Fucking A', I'm out!" Sergeant Allen cursed. Grenades started flying into the trench once again. Staff Sergeant Irick caught one and threw it back, blowing a pair of soldiers out of the embankment. Lundy breathed deeply and took aim with his scoped rifle. A soldier popped up and threw a grenade. Crack! He went down. Calmly, Lundy tracked the fat grenade, exhaled, and fired. The grenade exploded into a million pieces, showering them with fragments. A spike grenade caught a soldier in the arm, stabbing into him and sticking. "Oh Fu-" BOOM! Erikson, standing nearby, was sent sprawling onto the ground. Suddenly, a soldier leapt into the trench, bayonet at the ready. Seeing Erikson on the ground, he lunged. The blow never fell, as armored hands grabbed the man's head and swiftly snapped his neck with a sickening crick! "Bahstard," Aster said, spitting, "That;s theh third tahme Ah've saved yeh ass today, Id-" A tank lurched into view, launching over the parapet. Its treads slipped into the trench and it stalled. "BAHSTARD!" a Bennerian accented voice boomed. Sergeant "Ape" Tewkes appeared, clambering onto the tank. Drawing two grenades, he destroyed the top hatch with one and tossed the other inside. "Focking indigestion, you wanker!" he yelled, leaping off back into the cover of the trench. Five tanks down, but at least a dozen or more to go. |
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| Wraith | 6 Jun 2009, 12:15 AM Post #9 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER VIII Spirit Street "Yes," Colonel Sloan said, still watching through the binoculars, "Yes, yes, yes!" His tanks were on the verge of breaking through. He looked at the fort's perimeter, then back at the trench line. "Hold back the tanks for now," he said, lowering the binoculars. "What?!" his second-in-command, Major Landry, asked, surprised. "We need to bring up more - they've got more damn Marines reforming on the fort's perimeter." "But sir-" "If we attack with what we've got, we'll just lose our tanks. Hold back the armor and bring up two more companies. Put mortars and infantry on 'em to keep them on their toes." "Yes, sir." "Sir!" another aide shouted, coming up the stairs, "the prisoners are ready." Sloan grinned broadly. "Good work. Major Landry, you are in command while I am away." "Yes, sir." Sloan walked down the stairs. ----------------------------------------------------- Victory Road "You're fuckin' insane, you crazy bastard!" Staff Sergeant Irick yelled at Ape, "You realize that if you'd gotten yourself killed, I'd have to replace your ass?!" "Relax, sarge. You know me: crazy's what I do," said Ape, grinning. Irick's expression changed from stern to smiling. "I know, mate," he said, grabbing him by the shoulder, "But if you ever do something crazy like that again, I'll kill you." "Even if I'm dead." "Even if you're dead, I'll still kill you. Ryan spent too much time making you into something useful for you to waste it," Irick slapped him on the shoulder and turned back to face the front, "How we doin', Tom?" "Tanks are...idling up the street. They mustn't know we're so beaten up," said Sergeant Bladon. "They'll be back soon. Second Squad, keep your eyes - INCOMING!" BOOM! A morta exploded inside the trench a few meters away, eviscerating a Second Platoon Marine. "COVER!" BOOM! BOOM! ---------------------------------------------------------------- Spirit Street "So, you're not going to play ball, eh?" Sloan muttered, kneeling in front of the battered, bloody prisoner and staring him in the eyes. The man nodded weakly. "Well," Sloan said, standing up and drawing a knife, "I have ways of dealing with people like you." Suddenly, Sloan jerked forward, carving a long gash across the man;s chest. He screamed in pain. "What do you have in reserve?!" Sloan roared. "Boston! Pyhrus! Sergeant! Confederation...Military...Forces!" Sloan slashed again. "I won't ask you again! What do you have in reserve?!" "Boston! Pyrhus! Sergeant! Confederation...Military Forces!" "Have it your way!" In one swift motion, Sloan slashed Boston's throat. He watched him gurgle, struggling for breath and drowning in his blood, and die for the next few minutes. Sloan nudged the limp corpse out of the chair with his foot. Two aides entered: one dragged the body out, the other handed Sloan a towell. "Any more vermin today?" Sloan asked, wiping his knife and hands clean. "Yes, sir: Ernest Palring, Army Private, and John Dearing, Marine Private." "Damn, I shouldn't have killed the sergeant. I'll start with the Marine. Bring him in." --------------------------------------------------- Victory Road The bombardment had not ceased, but it seemed safer than usual. A lighter bombar- A grenade rolled down the dugout stairs. "HOLY SHIT! COVER!" someone bellowed. Third Squad dove into corners and bunks as the grenade went off. "Everyone alright?" Ben asked as the dust cleared. "First is...god!" Wolf replied. "Third okay!" Jason shouted. "Izzy's down!" shouted Deadhead, rushing over to where PFC Ballard lay. "'m alright, I'm alright!" Izzy groaned, trying to wave him away. He grabbed a piece of shrapnel from near his neck and yanked it out. Blood started dripping out of the hole. "You stay here," Ben ordered, "I'll call a Doc over when I can. Sam, get your team out!" Sergeant McKnight rushed out of the dugout after first fire team and the assault team. immediately, they were engaged. The bombardment had moved on to the fort, and rebel infantry had snuck into the line unnoticed. Sergeant McKnight lunged at a rebel. Another, on the other side, slammed into Lance Corporal Connors, causing him to stagger back and knock Deadhead to the ground. The rebel aimed a pistol, but Connors grabbed his arm, twisted it, and broke it. The man screamed in pain, but Deadhead saw the flash of a knife. With his other arm, the rebel shoved the knife through a chink in the armor into Connors's neck. Vision clearing up as he did that, Deadhead drew his sidearm and shot the rebel between the eyes. Connors planted his face into the mud, blood pooling rapidly around his neck. "Shit. Sorry, buddy." ------------------------------------------------------ "Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit!" Ares swore, looking over the parapet. At least three dozen tanks began to slowlyt rumble down the street. "Do you see that Wraith?! Do you?!" "Yes, sir." "We're finished! Fucking finished!" Ares opened a comm channel, "This is Mike Niner-Four, Delta Six Acting! I need something! Anything! Help, goddammit, or we're all going to die!" --------------------------------------------------------- Command Center, Fort Morvan "...going to die!" "Who is that idiot? Use proper radio procedure," General Bearing said. Brigadier Wolfe slammed his hands down on the holomap. "Don't you hear him?! It's all over the left sectors - out of AT weapons, heavy casualties, and almost overrun! Do something, damn it!" he yelled. Bearing paused in deep thought for several seconds, desperate comm messages crackling all around him. "Sir," General Magorian said, "heavy armor attack across the left. We don't have much time. Release the air assets!" Bearing exhaled deeply. "Air forces are authorized to engage. Kill 'em all!" ------------------------------------------------------ Victory Road "All units, this is Uniform Six. Help is on the way, designate Alpha Six," Brigadier Wolfe said over the comm. "Oh, fuck yes!" Ares cheered. He switched comm channels. "Alpha Six, this is Mike Niner-Four Delta Six Acting! Come in, over!" "This is Alpha Six. Patching you through to Alpha Four-Six." "This is Four-Six," said a cool, calm monotone. "This is Mike Niner-Four Delta Six Acting! Request CAS at Grid Coordinates Delta Delta One-Seven to Seven-Tree! Danger close! They're almost on top of us!" "Sit tight, Delta. Five minutes out." Ares quickly switched channels. "Five minutes! CAS in five minutes!" Ares switched back. "Delta Six, prepare to lase targets on my mark, over," the pilot said. "Roger tha-augh!" a round slammed into Ares's side, glancing off but knocking Ares to the ground. "Delta Six, you still there? Over." "Still...here," Ares gasped, standing back up, "Took a hit." "Roger that." "Sir!" Calahan shoved Ares down and fired over him with his pistol, killing a rebel taking aim. "This is One Alpha! We're about to be overrun!" Lundy's voice shouted, frantic. "I'm on it!" Calahan said, promptly leaping away down the trench. "This is Four-Six. Three minutes out." The radio chatter in Ares's helmet was so loud and chaotic it was becoming unbearable. Suddenly, a booming, powerful voice cut through the rest on all channels. "Soldiers and Marines of the Confederation, how hard we have fought this day, and the days before it! The enemy has thrown his entire might against us time and time again, and we have thrown him back!" "Two minutes out," the pilot interrupted on Ares's comm. "We have lasted for longer than any lesser force would. We've all shared memories together. We've shared trenches together, we've shared lives together. We've shed tears together and we've shed blood together." A rebel plunged his bayonet into Erikson's chest, but Erikson moved slightly, sending it into the shoulder instead. Calahan put a bullet in the rebel's head a moment later. Private Barrett and Corporal Tiduos supported a dazed and badly wounded Jason as they moved to cover. Alex took a round to the face and went down. Sergeant Sanol appeared, fending off the rebels closing in. "One minute out!" the pilot said, losing the monotone, "Lase! Lase!" Ares activated his laser target designator and aimed his helmet at the lead tank. Every surviving company officer did so as well. "We al share the same cause, we all bear the same burdens. But I would not have you remember what we have done, so much as to know what we will do. Fight to the last. Fight in the buildings, fight in the trenches, fight in the mud, fight in the ruins!" "Target sighted!" "This Confederation will last a thousand years, but people will still look back and say-" "Target locked!" "-'This was their finest hour!'" BOOM! OOC: I believe this was the longest chapter I have ever written for this. I hope it is also one of the most epic moments in the entire series that has come, and is to come. |
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| Wraith | 7 Jun 2009, 08:28 PM Post #10 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER IX Maris Gamma Cluster, CDN Chimaera "Total losses so far?" Jeffrey Moxxin asked, watching the many ships of Fifth Fleet circle the flagship through the bridge viewport. "Two cruisers, three destroyers, six frigates," replied Admiral Jonothan Barringer, command of Fifth Fleet, standing behind the Minister of Defense with hands clasped behind his back. "We have destroyed multiple Coalition sentry flotillas nonetheless, Mr. Minister. I estimate two battleships, five cruisers, nine destroyers, and seventeen frigates." Moxxin turned to face Barringer, clasping his own hands behind his back. "That's not good enough, Admiral!" he said sternly, "Those men on Verdun need relief now." "I understand that, sir. We still have to clear the Cat's Eye Nebula before regrouping for a final push." "And how long will that take?" "Five days, sir." Moxxin scowled. "You have three." Barringer was taken aback. "But Mr. Minister, we-" "It would be a shame to see you retiring so early, Admiral Barringer." Barringer closed his mouth and saluted. "Aye. Three days, sir." --------------------------------------------------- Home, World, Executive Safehouse 6466 "Okay," gasped Gunny Mason, slamming the door behind him and shrugging off his soaked raincoat, "I took a look at the Watermill, and managed to get security schematics for the room." mason withdrew a datapad and laid it on the table, activating it. A blue 3D holomap of the target room hovered over the table. "The proprieter was relying on secrecy more than security to protect this file," mason said. "Smart man," grunted Sherman. "Yes. Only standard alarms on the door and windows, but one modification - security recorder here in the southwest corner and a hidden audio recorder under the ugly couch." "No problem. Cut the power, cut the wires," said Bosworth. "Of course, Bos, that's you. Cut the power to that entire city block," said Sherman. "The safe is the real problem," Mason continued, "Try to blow it or crack it, the damn thing goes berserk." "Lights & whistles?" asked Bergeron. "Correct. MagnaCorp Firework 3200." "Fuck," Bergeron muttered. "Yeah, that's your job, Berg. So, what's the plan, Scott?" Sherman paused in through for a few moments. "We can get a room near the staff stairwell, right?" Mason nodded. "Perfect. Us three," Sherman pointed at Mason and Bergeron, "put our gear in suitcases and rent a room near the staff stairwell. Bosworth cuts the power at H-Hour, we speed up the stairs to the roof, then rappel down to the windows and break in." "What about backup power, sarge?" Bosworth asked. "Hmmm...think you can get an EMP charge on it? We might not have time to make it all the way before power comes back on." "Sure as shit, sarge." "Good. We check in tomorrow. We stay a day. H-Hour is 0100 in two days. Clear?" The team nodded. "Excellent. I'll report to Mr. Hayes." --------------------------------------------- The Presidential Residence "Are you sure it will work? I can arrange for the backout myself," hayes said. "No, sir. We'd prefer not to put any ties of any kind between you and this operation," Sherman said over the comm. "Thank you. You're a good man, Mr. Sherman." "That's my job, sir." "Good luck," Hayes deactivated the comm and turned to Whitehall, "It's on, sir. Two nights form now." "I sure as Hell hope these boys know what they're doing," Whitehall muttered. "Oho, they do, sir." ------------------------------------------------------- Popular Front Headquarters, Home Outskirts "Well, did you read it?" Senator Bayer asked Senator Horace Garrin, Chairman of the Committee on the Conduct of War. "Fuck no, Bear! Didn't that bastard Kulozov tell you what happened to his sources in the Ministry of War?!" "Yes, but they can't touch a Senator." "Fuck that. I am not reading it. Why don't you tell me about it. What's so bad about this file?" "It's an after action report from an army unit about seventeen, eighteen years ago." "So what?" "Let me finish. They were sent by President Mitchell - you remember him, right? - to investigate some wierd disappearances on the planet Kyrkberg." "I thought this was a-" "They found some ultra-secret facility even the President didn't know about. Some of them were killed by the staff before they shut down the facility." "What were they working on?" "Something big. Really big. Whitehall knows what it is, but he isn't saying anything, of course." "Who authored this? We can talk to him, then." Bayer glanced at the file again. "An Ensign Ryan of 94th Fleet Inital Strike Team." |
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| Wraith | 13 Jun 2009, 07:55 PM Post #11 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER X Victory Road Two jets screamed overhead and dropped their munitions onto the oncoming wave of tanks. The cluster bombs blew apart in midair, sending hundreds of small bomblets scattering over the area. The bomblets saturated the area with explosions, turning dozens of tanks into charred hulks. The wall of flame created by the bombs rose several feet into the air and lasted almost a minute before finally dissapating. The surviving handful of tanks reversed their engines and began to retreat. The jets suddenly reappeared and made another pass, raking the ground with 40mm autocannon fire. More sonicbooms roared in the distance, and several Coalition fighters blasted through the rain, giving chase as the Confederation planes began a hasty retreat. One of the three Confederation fighter pilots becamse disoriented in the rain, and smashed through a highrise with a massive explosion. A close-behind Coalition pilot did not pull up in time and followed suit. A second fighter, barely evading a pair of bandits, attempted to shake them off with a tight backwards turn, the G-forces became too much, and the pilot blacked out. The fighter crashed into the ground with a great fireball. Nevertheless, the destruction of almost an entire battalion of armored vehicles is an extremely heartening sight to an infantryman. "Oh, fuck yes," Ares muttered to himself, "Come on, you sorry sons of bitches! We got 'em on the run!" Ares jumped over the top of the lip and began to charge through the ruins. With a great hurrah, the company followed him. Then the entire FIST. --------------------------------------------- Spirit Street Sloan, deep inside a dark warehouse, heard and felt the massive rumble of the cluster bomb impact, but paid no attention to it. He had more important things to worry about than a friendly artillery bombardment. He knelt down in front of his prisoner. "Soldier-" "Marine," the man spat. "Marine, why won't you cooperate? It's not like it will help," Sloan said, twirling his knife in his hand. "I told you what I'm authorized to tell you." Sloan stood up and quickly slashed him across the cheek. "Not good enough! What reserve units do you have?!" "Dearing, John. Private First Class, Confederation Marine Corps." Sloan sighed. He picked something up from a nearby table. It emitted a high-pitched whine. "Last chance before I really get going." Dearing remained silent. "Very well," Sloan touched the thing - an old-style defibrillator - to Dearing's forehead, delivering a massive, painful jolt of electricity. Dearing cried out in shock. "Ha! This is old crap is good for something!" Sloan said with glee. "I'll up the charge. What reserves do you-" Suddenly, a nearby door burst open. "Sir!" an aide yelled, gasping for breath. "The enemy is attacking!" Sloan's head jerked toward him. "What?! I just sent an overwhel-" "Destroyed, sir! Enemy air forces came outta nowhere!" Sloan once again shook wit fury. He drew his pistol and bashed Dearing over the head, knocking him out. "Pack up and leave immediately," Sloan growled, "Bring him." ---------------------------------------------------- Near Spirit Street "Come on, you sons of bitches!" Sergeant Sanol, acting First Squad leader, bellowed, "You wanna live forever?!" "Yes!" someone replied. "Shut up, you cheeky bastard!" Sanol crouched behind some debris. "Manny, Pad, flank left! Alpha, right side, Charlie, on me!" Lundy led his fire team across the road into the other ruined block. Corporal Shert and PFC Chan appeared next to Sanol. "Sergeant?" Shert asked. "With me! Manny, got an eye on the enemy?" "Roger that. About one squad our sector," Corporal Mannerheim replied. Jesus. They really weren't prepared for this, Sanol thought. "Suppress them! Darth, Charlie team, assault with me!" Mannerheim and Lance Corporal Padrino began steadily firing on the enemy. Crawling over the rubble, Sanol, Isis, Shert, Chan got very close to the trench. Sanol and Shert yanked grenades from their vests and tossed them in. Once they went off, the assault team rose to a crouch and hosed the trench with their submachine guns. "Clear!" Sanol yelled, standing up and rushing down into the trench, "Alpha, sitrep." "Clearing now," Lundy replied. There was a very loud whoop a few feet down the trench. Looking, Sanol saw Cow leaping into a cloud of dust stirred up by a pair of grenades, rifle blazing. When he reappeared, he was holding his giant revolver, rifle being dry. "How I miss this shit!" he yelled, practically sobbing. -------------------------------------------------- Calahan carefully scrambled over the parapet of the Spirit Street trench, lying completely flat. The Coalition was starting to recover from the shock of the attack, delivering withering fire down the street. Calahan crawled through some nearby ruins toward a pair of damaged warehouses, the only intact buildings around. Even without his helmet, Calahan could see very well. He spotted a party of men come out of the nearest warehouse, carrying two wounded men. Men in CMF-issued fatigues. One of the men was directing the others, and Calahan noticed a pair of silver cross-swords on his collar - a colonel. Here, pretty, pretty, pretty, Calahan thought, crawling after them. |
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| Wraith | 16 Jun 2009, 03:55 PM Post #12 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XI Spirit Street "Jesus, what the hell happened?" Ares asked, looking at his battered band of Marines, "Where the hell is everyone?" "Christ, Ares, you must've really got caught up in the heat of the moment," said Ben, limping over to him and gasping. "Where is everyone?" "Howard & Connors are dead. Alex took a hit to the face - he'll be fine - but Brad's hit bad. Idiot, McAllen, and Miller all took hits as well, but not bad." "Why are you telling me this?" "Oh yeah, Dearing and Calahan are missing." "He'll be fine. Think you can make another push?" "Hell yes, sir!" came the response. "Roger that!" Ares opened the company comm channel, "Company D, continue the attack!" ------------------------------------------------ Battlefield Boulevard "Okay, get him set back up," Colonel Sloan said, entering the almost completely intact, pitch black warehouse. "Major Landry, make damn sure they don't push their luck." "Yes, sir." In a few minutes, Sloan and Dearing were alone again, with Sloan's "equipment" once again lying on a table. "Now, where were we?" ----------------------------------------------------- Near Battlefield Boulevard "Hot damn!" Wolf cursed, ducking his head back down behind the rubble. Bullets chipped the ferrocrete with a vengeance not a second later. "Selucis, roll left, move along the embankment. Conk, suppress with me." Selucis rolled off the rubble behind the raised foundation of what was once a highrise. Crawling along it, Wolf and Conk's rifles cracked above him. A head appeared in the trench ahead. Fumbling with his rifle, he shot off three rounds. Two went wild, but the third tore through the man's brain. Selucis crawled on, not noticing the hole in his shoulder. ----------------------------------------------------- "God damn it!" Sergeant McKnight cursed, ducking down and covering his helmet as bullets snapped above his head. "Will someone please take care of that MG?" he barked into the comm. "Would be nice to have some grenade launchers about now, eh, Sam?" Jason's sarcastic voice teased. McKnight constantly complained about the FIST's lack of heavy infantry small arms. "Fuck you, Jason! And yeah, it would b-" A grenade explosion cut him off. "Clear," Selucis said over the comm, "You better get in here, now!" ---------------------------------------------------------- Battlefield Boulevard Major Landry peered across the landscape through his binoculars. He couldn't believe it - those damn Marines were still coming. And they were winning. "Dayum it!" he cursed, in his heavyset South Rezelian accent, "Sergeant Rachshaw, run back to Major Berenson and tell him to bring his battalion forward!" "Yes, sir," Rachshaw replied, rushing out of the room. Landry turned back to the battle. "Damn Marines!" he cursed again, watching them knock out a machine gun emplacement, "Mackenson," he said, holding out a hand, "get me Major Galli-" Landry, half-turned, saw his radio operator face-down on the floor, blood gushing from a cut throat. He turned even further and saw more blood creeping through the door Rachshaw had exited through moments ago. "Hello, Major," whispered a voice directly behind him. Before Landry could let out a scream, Calahan stabbed him to death. --------------------------------------------------------- "Request fire mission, Epsilon Foxtrot Five-!" before the Coalition officer could finish his deadly request, Ares put a bullet through his head. "Dig in, men! Prepare for a counter-attack!" Ares ordered. He opened a comm channel. "This is Mike Niner-Four Delta Six Acting! We have taken parts of Battlefield Boulevard. I say again, Mike Niner-Four Delta is at Battlefield Boulevard!" ----------------------------------------------------------- Command Center, Fort Morvan "How many losses to the air arm?" Bearing asked Brigadier Korrik van Hausen, commander of garrison air forces. "Eight fighters, all but three gunships. That's seventy percent total, sir," van Hausen replied. Bearing sighed deeply. Then he turned to Wolfe and Magorian. "Damn you two for your manipulations! Look what you've done! I've wasted my air forces! If your men were more competent, they c-" "...Delta is at Battlefield Boulevard!" Bearing jerked toward the comm station. "Comm officer, did I hear that correctly?" "Yes, sir." Bearing rushed over to the situation table. "Praise that man and his initiative! Order a general push to Battlefield Boulevard! Wolfe!" "Sir?" "That's one of your's, correct?" "Yes, sir." "Write him for the Gold Nova! I will approve wholeheartedly!" "Right away, sir." ---------------------------------------------------- Battlefield Boulevard "This is Violet Two to anyone! We are being overrun at Line Charlie! Help us, dammit!" the Coalition officer screamed into his radio. "This is Monster Niner, we are moving to counterattack. ETA, five minutes." |
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| Wraith | 17 Jun 2009, 02:07 PM Post #13 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XII Home, World, The Watermill Hotel "Well, this is nice," said Bergeron, flopping down on one of the beds. "It's a four-star hotel, a senator's idea of 'inconspicious.' It has to be nice," said Sherman. "Y'know, I'm surprised the clerks bought it. Three giant men on a tourist trip? C'mon." "We're from Morarty, remember?" Mason said, "Mutant food farms, I think." "Okay, shut yp. Bos, comm check," said Sherman. "Clear on my end. You?" Bosworth's voice said over the earpiece. "Clear. Remember, we hit this off tomorrow night. We'll go out on the town while you get in position." "Oh, I see. All work and no play makes Bos a dull boy." "Yeah, yeah. I'll make it up to you." "You better." --------------------------------------------- Home, World, Confederation General Assembly "Get back!" Agent Brian Nash yelled through gritted teeth, shoving another pair of overzealous reporters back into the crowd. All sound was being drowned out by the shouts of several thousand demonstrators and the constant jabbering of the mob of reporters attempting to overrun the motorcade. The hundred-strong cadre of Home Riot Police could barely hold back the wave of crushing bodies. "We clear?" Agent-in-Chief Kadioshi's voice buzzed on the comm unit. "Clear as we're gonna get!" Nash replied. "Okay, moving Potcow now. Eyes open!" Kadioshi opened the door of the armored limousine and President Whitehall stepped out. The roar of both crowds grew more furious. "Damn it, I see a couple of firebombs," said another agent. "Then get shields on him. If anyone in the crowds opens fire or attacks, the HRP has green light," Kadioshi replied. "You going to kill our children next?" came a yell from the reporter crowd. Nash then saw the person yelling it was extending her arm, aiming a pistol through the Secret Service agents. "GUN!" Nash bellowed. Agents yanked Whitehall to the ground. Nash grabbed the woman's arm and twisted it, then chopped her in the crook of the elbow. The pistol clattered to the ground and Nash forced her down, pinning the arm behind her back. "Captain Pakkette, disperse this crowd! McAne, Barack, run Potcow in. Now!" Kadioshi ordered. Two agents put Whitehall on his feet and hurried him in as the Riot Police opened fire with stun weapons and noisemakers. ------------------------------------------------- "Have trouble outside, sir?" Kirk Hayes asked, handing Whitehall a datapad. "More than I care for, Kirk," Whitehall panted, "Am I on yet?" Hayes checked his chrono. "A few minutes, sir. The Bear is finishing up." "Lovely." ----------------------------------------------------- "And so, ladies and gentlement, the President must answer for these crimes - of failing to prevent this war, of wasting the lives of our soldiers, and of concealing information from the public. Vote to impeach!" Bayer boomed. He recieved a standing ovation form his fellow party members as he stepped down. Speaker Morris stood up. "Please rise for the President of the Confederation of Worlds." Most of the Senators and representatives stood up as Whitehall strode to the podium, but some from the Popular Front defiantly remained seated. Whitehall breathed deeply and exhaled, looking over the datapad. He sighed, then tossed it away. Several representatives gasped. "Disgraceful," Whitehall began,"Disgracefull, how low you stoop in an attempt to discredit me. How dare you imply that I did not try to preserve our union. You cannot imagine the kind of bu- trouble I recieve from the Colonies every day. They imagine non-existant grievances in order to force me to pour yet more taxpayer money into the likely-corrupt pockets of their administrators. When I refuse, they cry 'Elitism!' This is new - this time they attacked us. They attacked us because we are too honest and fair of a people. "That's what I thought before. You damned fools stoop to corrupt and highly illegal means to satisfy your mad hunger for power. You are no different from the enemy we face now. So now, you attack a government stretched to its limits to protect our citizens while our soldiers die at the front. You use their sacrifices to advance your own agenda! "Senator Bayer, you claim I mislead the public. Do you want the truth?" "YES!" came a unanimous cry from the Popular Front. "Very well! We have halted the Coalition invasion. But our freedom relies on the Heroes of Verdun. If they fall, so do we. And they are teetering on the edge of the abyss! A great gasp came from the floor. "That's right! Prepare for a truly iron-fisted regime! Your efforts are making that possible!" The Floor erupted into a frenzy of commotion. "SILENCE!" Whitehall erupted, "I'm not done yet!" The Floor immediately fell silent. "Senator Bayer, you claim to have a file classified Ultra-Secret. Do you?" "Yes! And-" "Senator Bayer," Whitehall interrupted, "Do you have clearance for Ultra-Secret?" "Is that a threat, Whitehall?!" "Answer the question!" "...No." "Then, Senator, I shall see you in court. Mark my words, I'll see you executed for treason even if it destroys my reputation! I swear on my mother's salvation or damnation that you will never know peace, even as World burns around me!" Across the Confederation, several billion citizens gasped, several billion yelled out in fury, and several billion more cheered in triumph. |
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| Wraith | 19 Jun 2009, 12:57 PM Post #14 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XIII Battlefield Boulevard "Here it comes!" Ares shouted, watching APCs rumble out of the smoke and rain. "This is it! We're all gonna die here!" someone yelled, panicking. "Not yet!" Sergeant McGraw barked, "Not while we've still got ammo!" "But we're out of ammo! The assault teams are out of ammo!" shouted Private Barrett. "Then bleed on the damn things! That'll kill 'em! Infantry comin' out! Open fire!" Wolf's fire team opened up on the infantry gathering behind the APCs, followed shortly by the rest of Third Squad. The APCs returned fire with their autocannons. "First Squad's pinned down!" Sanol shouted on the comm. "Get up, damn it!" Ben replied, "If you don't hit 'em now and take a few hits, they'll kill you all when they get on top of you." "I know how to fight, B-" BOOM! A large cloud of earth bloomed into the air. Mud cascaded back down on top of them. "That sounded like an eighty-eight!" Sanol shouted. "Direct-fire arty, this close? They must have been confident of their chances," said Irick. "APC getting close!" Sergeant Bladon's frantic voice said, "Hit it, d-" An autocannon round exploded down the line, showering Ares with more mud. "Bravo, Bravo, respond," Irick was saying. "This is LePallin. Bladon's down. Oh, shit-" "Charlie, take out that goddamn AP-" Irick went off the air. The Coalition soldiers began to return fire. ------------------------------------------------ "Damn you and your worthless damn Marine hide," Sloan snarled, "I'll get something out of you yet." Sloan stabbed his knife into Dearing's chest and slowly cut downward, making a long, deep gash. Dearing shrieked in agony the whole time. "I'm an expert at keeping people alive- believe me, I'll get what I want soon enough." A door into the room smashed open. "Sir, sir!" a frantic Sergeant Andrews shouted. "What is it?" Sloan yelled, furious. "Major Landry's dead! And everyone with him - Bethesda, Jamor, Rochshaw, Mackenson, even Taliroth!" Sloan's eyes widened. He pulled out a pistol and shot Dearing three times in the chest. "We're leaving, now. The damn Marines are here." "Right away, sir. I'll gather who I can find." ------------------------------------------------------ Corporal Baliwag wasn't eager to fight anymore. He had served on the front line during the last week, and now he knew why the traitor Whitehall had been trying so hard to appease President-General O'Riley. Luckily for him, he had been pulled from the front with the rest of his decimated unit yesterday, and now they served as a "guard" of sorts for General Arson's so-called adjutant, Colonel Sloan. Most of the men knew by now that Sloan was just Arson's blood-thristy enforcer. That didn't matter to Baliwag. he had a wife and two kids back home on Legaro, so he was happy with any duty out of the trenches. At least he had a family - unlike the inhuman Confederation troops. They weren't allowed to have families until they were officers. At least Baliwag could look forward to Jen's famous caff, renowned in his home- Jack Calahan tore out Baliwag's throat with his knife and let the corpse tumble to the floor of the catwalk. He peered outside a nearby, shattered window at the carnage below. An APC and several infantry squads were about to overrun a unit of Marines, likely Company D. Calahan picked up the rocket launcher slung over the back of the dead man and took aim. It was an older model, but it would work. He centered the sights on the APC and fired. ------------------------------------------------------- Crack! BOOM! The APC exploded, sending charred fragments of its armor flying in every direction. "Holy shite!" APC cursed over the comm, "What the bloody fock was that? I thought I was a dead man for sure." "Snap out of it, Ape!" Sergeant Allen said, "Let's get back in this fight. Grenades!" Second Squad launched a storm of grenades over the embankment onto the dazed rebel infantry taking cover behind. --------------------------------------------------------- Crack! Sloan jerked his head toward the noise and ducked, startled. "What the hell was that?" he asked Andrews and the only two men he had managed to find. "I think it came from the next room, sir," said Andrews. Sloan drew his sidearm. "Let's take a look. You two, take point." ------------------------------------------------------------- Calahan dropped the empty tube, then bent over the body next to him. He grabbed a handful of the man's uniform and wiped his knife clean. Suddenly, the main door into the room crashed open below. Two men with rifles raised charged in, followed shortly by two more, one of which had a pistol. Officer, Calahan thought, grinning. He quickly unclipped his armored boots, set them aside, and silently crept down the stairs. ---------------------------------------------------------------- "Ballast, go left. Irving, right. We'll overwatch," Andrews ordered. "Only two?" Sloan asked. "Everyone else is dead, sir!" "Jesus." "What is this, Spec Ops?" Andrews asked, leaning against one of the many crates in the room. "I don't think so. We captured a few of their recon teams, and that's all they had." "Who told you that? Military intelligence?" Both men laughed heartily. They didn't notice that Irving had dissapeared into the shadows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Calahan wiped his knife clean again with the uniform of his latest victim. he saw another light scanning the darkness across the piles of crates. Calahan darted up behind one of the crates and grabbed the shotgun from his back. Exhaling, he instantly looked over the crate, fired, and ducked back down. The shotgun shell ripped apart the soldier's torso. --------------------------------------------------------------- Sloan and Andrews jerked their weapons up. "Shit," Andrews breathed, "Shit, shit, shit!" "Irving? Ballast?" Sloan called. There was no response. "Damn it. Stick together." --------------------------------------------------------------- Two more lights flicked on as the officer and his last man advanced into the maze of crates. As they passed around a particularly large pile, Calahan pushed one out ever so slightly... ---------------------------------------------------------------- The top of a massive pile of crates came crashing down. "Shit!" Andrews swore, diving forward. Coming up into a crouch, he sprayed what remained of the pile with bullets. he looked back to where Sloan had been - the fallen crates covered the aisle. Suddenly, Andrews heard a slight, metallc sound. Rapidly turning to bring his rifle to bear, the last thing Lehman Andrews saw was the flash of a knife. ------------------------------------------------------------------- Sloan finally made it around the fallen crates. "Sergeant? You there?" he called, pistol raised and doubtful. He saw something on the ground. Approaching, he found Sergeant Andrews - with his throat slashed. "Oh, shit." A shadow suddenly began sprinting across the room. Sloan quickly picked up Andrews's rifle and fired a burst at it. It let out a grunt and crumpled to the ground. Chuckling with delight, Sloan dashed over to the body and prepared to put the finishing touch on. "I got you, you bastard!" But the body on the ground was Irving. "Wrong." SMACK! |
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| Wraith | 20 Jun 2009, 10:19 PM Post #15 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XIV Battlefield Boulevard "Medic!" Ape shouted into his comm, "We need a medic up here, now!" Someone tapped him on the soulder. "Already here, Ape," said Corporal Kindret, "What's the problem?" Ape lay a groaning Staff Sergeant Irick on the ground. "Wounds to the outer thigh. I don't think they're too bad. Bladon and Miller are down, too." "Okay, get 'em into the dugout right over there and I'll take a look." Ape moved back over to the rest of the squad. "Allen, Marith, Doc Kindret says to get your wounded over to him! That dugout!" he shouted, pointing. "Alright!" Ape knelt down on the step next to Corporal McAllen. "How we doing, George?" McAllen snapped off a shot and ducked back down. A flurry of automatic fire shredded the parapet a second later. "Great! Just great!" "Joe? You?" Lance Corporal Dean was wiping mud from the sight of his rifle. "I hate this fucking mud shit, man!" PFC Manning, the last man in his fire team, stood up and fired off a few shots, then ducked back down. Ape crept over to him. "Doin' alright, newbie?" "Got seven so far!" he said enthusiastically, holding up five fingers. "Keep it up," Ape said, patting him on the back. Lance Corporal Legrand suddenly appeared next to him. "Allen says to get ready. Those APCs are forming up to move forward again." "Got it." --------------------------------------------------------- "Christ, we're not gonna hold," Ares muttered, sitting back down. "You've said that three or four times today, sir," Ben chuckled. "I'm serious. We got what, two dead, ten or so wounded, and two missing? Speaking of them, where the fuck is Wraith?" "Oh, shit," Ben muttered. He raised his rifle, and fired two shots, picking off a soldier. "Here they come again!" "Christ," Ares stood up to fire and pulled the trigger. nothing happened. "Oh, fuck! Not now! Please not now!" He knelt down again and cocked the firing chamber, ejecting the round. Sure enough, the chamber was clogged with mud. "Fuck!" Ares swore again. He threw away the weapon and drew his sidearm. "Too late to fall back now. Stand and die!" Crack! BOOM! The lead APC exploded. Ares looked at Ben. "I thought we were out of ammo." "We are." "We aren't!" Captain Ryan hopped down into the trench. More rockets cracked from behind and blew vehicles apart. Disorganized and confused, the Coalition mechanized forces finally broke and retreated back to their new frontline. "Eighty-second finally got its shit together," Ryan continued, "Aren't you glad the doggies were around to save us?" "Fuck them," said Ares. "Roger that," said Ben. ----------------------------------------------------------- Slowly, his vision fluttered back into focus. He tried to move his arms and legs, but could not. Then he realized he was bound to a chair. Manson Sloan groaned. "Never expected to find myself in this situation," he said, "So what're you gonna do with me? Turn me over to your 'civilized' Confederation superiors?" A man stepped out of the shadows in front of him. Sloan nearly flinched when he saw the long scar marring the left side of his face. "I'll give you one chance," he said, "and then I cut something off." Sloan laughed out loud. "I pull that stunt all the time. Bring it on, you bastard," he chuckled, spitting blood in the man's direction. He then realized the massive pain from the blow to his head. "What forces do you have on the planet, Colonel?" "Blow me, you damn Marine." The Marine paced for a few seconds, playing with his knife. Then, in an instant, he lunged at Sloan and plunged the blade into his chest, piercing the heart. Utterly shocked, Sloan gasped for breath staring, wordlessly and amazed, at the hilt protruding from his chest. The Marine knelt down in front of him, looking into his eyes. "I bet you didn't expect me to cut off your blood supply." Sloan gasped and choked for another minute, the Marine staring into his eyes to whole time, before those eyes finally became empty. ------------------------------------------------- Calahan withdrew the knife from the colonel's chest, wiped it clean, and cut the bonds. He nudged the body onto the floor, kicked it onto its back, and shot it three times in the chest. Humming to himself, he smashed the chair against the wall and tossed the cut restrainer out a window. Clapping his hands clean, Calahan examined the body one more time, then headed into the next room. There, he found PFC Dearing's battered, mutilated corpse, still bound to the chair. Calahan's right eye twitched violently. He walked back to the colonel's body and drew his knife. "You killed one of my boys," he muttered. Then he went to work. |
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