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 Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2009 2:21 pm
“I am right behind you, Sir,” Fred said as he tucked the rifle under his arm, getting ready to move fast. “This sure brings back memories,” he thought to himself as he started at a jog out the door and down the hallway in the direction of the fight. “To think that it has been eight years since I have had a chance to take out a Drathonian while looking directly at them. Damn, I’m getting old.” He could hear gunfire just ahead, he was getting closer.
***
Steven walked along down the hallway and was almost to the hangar when he thought that maybe he should alert his squad that he had recovered, for the most part. He brought out his datapad and typed up a quick message telling his squadron that he was out of med bay and on his way to the hangar. After he sent it, he noted a sound that sounded like gunfire from up ahead.
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Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2009 9:15 pm
The two moonies Dart had sent to the infirmary opened the grate over the duct. They both grinned at each other cruelly as they though of all the helpless wounded they would brain with their crowbars. The larger Red Shirt nodded to his partner and then jumped into the hall below.
The second moonie could hear the first hit the floor, but it seemed to be an almost meaty thump - not metallic. Then someone grunted and he furrowed his brow in confusion. “You alright?” he called down.
“Yeah,” his partner yelled back, “I landed on a human. And he seems to have some sort of scales?”
Scales, on a human? This was a disturbing thought to the moonie still up in the ventilation tunnel and he decided to find out more before jumping after his fellow spy. “Is he still awake?” he asked.
“You bet and he actually seems kind of pissed.” The first moonie called back to the second as he pulled out his crowbar and stood up, a smirk on his face. “Don't worry he won't even be alive -” he stopped talking as he heard the ventilation duct's grate being shoved back in place. His partner had run away; gripping the crowbar tighter he decided to take his frustrations out on this strange human.
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Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2009 9:52 pm
“Ouch, what the hell was that?” Steven cried as he was knocked to the ground. As he regained his composure and stood up he saw that he was face to face with a large Drathonian. Instantly, Steven’s initial urge was to get the hell out of Dodge, but then it occurred to him, he must still be feeling the effect of the medicine. The pilot grinned wide and began to chuckle as he ran a hand over the faint scars on his jaw line.
“Obviously there is no Drathonian here, that would just be silly,” he reasoned, “This’ll be fun.”
Steven stood up straight, puffed out his chest, and donned an icy cold glare. He stood his ground and stared the Drathonian square in the eye. “Oh, this is going to be fun,” he said as he started laughing again, “Do you have any idea how much trouble and pain you put me through? You know what it doesn’t matter, because I am going to make your life a living Hell, just like you made mine.” Still wearing a maniacal grin he reach into his jacket and retrieved his combat knife from its sheath, and waved it around menacingly in front of the moonie. “I’m not sure if I can kill you, but with God as my witness I will make you suffer. Hm, I wonder how many scars I can give you. With that being said, I have always wanted to dissect a Drathonian, you know, see what makes you tick. I wonder how your organs compare to a human’s organ system. I guess I can find out after I cut you open and play doctor. You game?”
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Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2009 11:10 pm
The moonie's crowbar rattled loudly as it fell to the floor. Backing up away from Steven the Red Shirt held up his empty hands. These Terrans are crazy, they aren't like the normal Saratar guys, they're pure insanity.
“Can't we work something out?” he whimpered as the human pilot brandished his combat knife.
–
Dart was finding this whole business distressing. As he dropped to floor, dodging another shot from the EV-47, he wondered again what the girl was holding against him. Rolling to his feet he zigzagged to one wall of the corridor then then next, ducking and sidestepping erratically the whole time to keep the female's aim off.
Stopping for a moment at the right wall he sheathed his sword. Then he called out as he started running again, “Now, I must demand something of you. I've been nothing but polite until now, but it seems I must make my request somewhat forceful. Why do you seem to have a personal grudge against me little one?” The cold mechanical tone of Dart's voice as it was distorted through the breathing mask stood at odds with his words.
Thinking of the combat knife strapped to his thigh the moonie took in the rapidly closing gap between him and Cibo. Allowing himself a small smile before the grim reality of the situation whipped it back off, Dart coldly thought “Almost there, almost there,” to himself.
–
Adrian held the broom he was carrying parallel with his body, his stance betraying that he was the marine and sniper that his transfer orders claimed and not the janitor he seemed to be on a daily basis. He had silently hoped to himself that once the Hymn docked at Saratar Station he would finally be assigned to a squad, but no, he had just been put to keeping the many more rooms of the station swept clean too.
Though, shaking his head and letting out a chuckled, all the free time hadn't been completely wasted as the trigger system he had developed for use behind enemy lines (and just for fun if he was truthful, but that would only be known by himself) had been refined and even made reusable.
With that little reminder of his good fortune the man had even begun to whistle a low tune. Yes things could be better, but this isn't so bad; he thought as he opened the door to the Janitor's closet. But, that was before he saw the moonie, strangely clothed in a red knit sweater, rummaging through boxes, smelling cleaning solutions and even stopping to poke a sheet of sand paper suspiciously with a clawed finger.
Sighing, he walked behind the spy, who was obliviously continuing his search of a shelf's contents. Lifting the broom above his head Adrian brought it down upon the moonie's head with a loud crack. The little creature seemed to freeze for a second or two before – sadly – collapsing. The sniper shook his head, a look of amusement mixed with pity plastered on his face. Getting some rope down from the shelf he tied the spy up and then retrievied his duffel. Unzipping the bag he stuffed the little drathonian inside; before zipping it again, making sure a small portion stayed open as he slung it over his shoulder. As he walked back out into the hall he wondered where he could find an officer.
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Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2009 11:41 pm
As ordered, Red Bravo broke into groups of three and dove into the fray. After just a few seconds, Red Siberia piped up over the com. "Focus on those Rex fighters! There'll be hell to pay if we let them have any sort of free reign in this battle." Following his own advice, the Captain dove after a pair of Rexes. He and his two wingmen cleared out the Scourge that blocked their shots without problem, but by then the more mobile Drathonian combatants were dispersing and making their way around for a counter-offensive. Elsewhere, Ruze was flying wingman for Red Poland playing a crazy game of "Dodge the Deadly Lasers." "Any day you want to SHOOT something, that'd be grand. Maybe then I wouldn't feel like all my efforts to SURVIVE as your wingman wouldn't be for nothing." Banter was exchanged, but negative feelings were not. This was how they communicated on the battlefield, and there was no disdain in any of their hearts for their comrades.
Kai and Two charged into battle, using their superior speed and a prodigous amount of Mini-missiles to break up as many of the Scourge fighters as possible, swinging the scimitars around to fire at the aft sections of their foes, while 11 and 12 covered them from a little farther away. The four worked in tandem, utilising the Scimitar's great all-around abilities to keep them out of the guns of the Rex fighters while destroying the Scourges. "Red bravo, don't worry about the Scourges too hard, Alpha has them for you, just keep the damn rex's off of us!" Kai called to the other squadron.
Siberia responded with agreement. "You heard him, Reds. Wipe out the Rex's. If we can do that, we might just be able to clear them out." His words were inspirational, but his tone was less so. It sounded more demanding than encouraging or uplifting. Obviously he had little belief that it could be done, but they all were intent on creating as much of a pain in the a** for the lizards as possible.
Sixteen Terrans, and now eighty Drathonian fighters. The first couple minutes of the fight were going well for the Terrans, but, it was obvious enough by their rapidly depleting (and in the case of a couple of the Reds flying older machines, overloaded) shields that they could only hope to keep this up for so long. Quickly, it was turning into a numbers game, as the sheer skill of the Terrans wasn't quite enough. And the Carrier sitting there firing on the freighter still had thousands to replace those that were being shot down. but why wasn't it, Yet?
"Where are your boys, Lieutenant?" was Siberia's desperate question. It was voiced across the broad com, so all could hear him, as he was sure everyone was wondering. The battle was becoming a test of time: how long could the Terrans keep fighting? How long could they continue dodging death? How long before their equipment failed them? So many questions and not enough answers.
"They should be back by now, with support" Kai answered, wondering himself. He fired his last few Mini-missiles, taking down the shields of another Scourge before finishing it off with his lasers, noting his power generator was taking undue strainbecause he was constantly remodulating his shields in the hopes of keeping them up longer. Suddenly, the Fighters would notice something: a Warp signature, coming from the direction of Saratar. Kai cursed mildly, knowing Terrans used Fold at this range, obviously, there was another attack on the station, and the Hymn was still unable to fight. this carrier was simply a distraction.
"Well damnit all!" Siberia grumbled off the coms, knowing full well what that signature meant. Several other expletives were floating about the cockpits of Red Bravo's fighters. "Always with the bad news," said Poland over the squad channel. "You said it," Dilshod then reiterated to himself, "Always with the bad news..." Siberia finally had arrived at a decision. "Red Bravo, the priority will remain the same until such a time as the arrival deems itself a greater threat. Should that occur, it will become our primary target with the Rex's as our secondary." Blips of confirmation lit up in just a few seconds. "Good. Give 'em Hell." "HOO-AH!" was the resounding response.
Eleven and twelve made their way 'up' compared to the rest of the battle, in an attempt to get a better vantage on their enemies, whom were still busily buzzing around the other fourteen Terran fighters. Before they could do anything, however, the Fold signature's owber appeared; a Damaged Drathonian corvette, out of control. it had unfolded at the spot where 11 and twelve were, and their blips on the sensors had disappeared. It had arrived here hoping to get help from the carrier, but the carrier did no such thing. Revealing that it had tractor beams, the carrier grabbed the corvette, redirecting it at the freighter, at which it fired. As the freighter's engines went out, a secondary explosion rocked its bow, canceling momentum and stopping the freighter dead in its tracks. The corvette kept going, making no effort to stop, whether or not it could was unknown.
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Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2009 12:18 am
Cibo took shot after shot from within the misty fog, the laser lighting the billowing mist like lightning lighting up a cloudy sky. "Because! You beat me up! You drugged me, and YOU BLEW UP MY MOM! YOU WERE HER FRIEND GOD DAMMIT!" She screeched. Cibo charged forward and suddenly stooped down, using her momentum to toss the accursed murderer through the air. She drew out her own knife as the Moonie landed, and screeched higher than before, "I'M GOING TO TEAR YOUR SKIN OFF AND WEAR IT AS MY CAPE! RIOKRIREEEE!" Cibo charged at Dart, screaming his real name at the top of her lungs.
****
It was like hearing nails against the classical chalkboard, Cibo's voice, that is. Marcus was half wishing she'd die, and half wishing she'd take the b*****d alive. 'Then again, both would be good.' he thought. "Come on soldier! We got to move!" Marcus sprinted, Fred in tow.
****
"Noooooooo-oh-ooooooohhh!" the hysterical moonie cried out. He was shoving his way through random, surprised Terrans at this point. His nose was dripping with mucus, and his mouth was salivating from the pure, unadulterated fear coursing through him. "Please! Don't kill me! Don't kill me!" the Moonie cried for mercy. Killy was not too far behind, walking upright once more and beating any person that got in his way.
"Ahh! My leg!" one Terran screamed. The 'Killer's High' drug was wearing off now, and he could finally speak again,
"Get out of my way! That Drathonian is MINE!" he called out with menace. By now, the two were running through the midst of activated Scimitar Fighters. Jets of heat and fire were emanating from here and there, and the moonie continued to run from the black, demonic satire of his race. With the flames washing over the two, it truly was hell. The roar of the engines coming to life drowned out all else, and the drooling, snot nosed, crying moonie looked over his shoulder, surprised to see nothing. He quailed under the wing of one scimitar, and didn't even notice the Terran pilot inside watching him. Left. Right. Left again. All clear? Yes. All clear. The trembling Moonie slowly emerged from under the wing, and was stomped on like a goomba by over two hundred pounds of Ottyo Super-soldier. Killy was standing on the wing. And now stood on the moonie's shoulders.
****
As the terrified Terran pilots pulled away in their gloriously bright ships, a crowd of engineers, marines and military police had gathered around the hanger. What they saw was...unheard of. What they saw, they expected to be done to them by a Drathonian on the very worse scenario. But this wasn't the case at all. The tall black figure had the pitifully small Drathonian belly down on the floor. A leg was horribly maimed and burned by the jet wash of a departing Scimitar; it was crying out in Terran for mercy. "No, please! Anything! I''ll..."
"Cibo will take Dart alive. And with him, we do not need you." he replied coldly in perfect Terran. His armored foot grabbed the back of the neck like a crude hand while he firmly gripped the upper jaw, fingers clawing into the roof of the mouth. "Acted like animals. And so I shall treat you red scum like animals." The black form lifted up with tremendous strength, and the breaking of the neck could be heard throughout the crowd. But he didn't stop there. The whole upper head tore off the shoulders, leaving the lower jaw behind. The armed Terrans sighted him up as he lifted the skull into the air and bellowed a muffled cry. Suddenly. awareness of what was happening washed the black form as the last of the fire in his veins ebbed. The figure tried to hide the gory artifact behind it's back, and then tossed it into a nearby bin.
****
'I have a feeling Evelyn will not be happy, kill count or not...' Killy thought. He noticed the fighters taking off. "Sooooo.....Uh, what's happening out there?" he asked the crowd.
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Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2009 7:55 am
Dart contemplated letting the girl kill him, High Command had thrown him aside and – a small click sounded from the data pad at his waist. All thoughts of mercifully becoming an outlet for Cibo's anguish fled from his mind, he crouched met the charging girl with a snap kick straight to her stomach.
Already turning away from the enraged terran he pulled a capsule from his kit, larger and a different colour than the brown gas capsules, using his claw he punctured a line into it. The new gas hissed as it left its container and the disorienting gas quickly began to dissapate.
Pulling out his data pad he opened the com channel; immediately a moonie began to speak in a grim, worried tone, every word was tinged with fear. After mulling over the news being supplied Dart slowly nodded his head and spoke, “No plans for evacuation? Enact the Saratar Pact's Contingency Plan 11.” Then, pulling off the breathing mask and pushing up his goggles Dart spoke again, his voice normal, “See you on the other side operative.”
Closing the com channel and pushing the pad back into its pouch Dart let out a long droning sigh. “This is what it's come to then?” He asked himself, his voice soft and filled with regret. He took a deep breath, preparing for a long explanation, his back was still towards Cibo when he spoke, “It is my duty to kill Terrans. Whether we declared our war officially or started it with a rash chain of betrayals, High Command has decided your species should die. Not all my Moonies believe that we should follow duty into senseless death though, and therefore Contingency Plan 11 was made.” Dart stopped, pulling his sword's sheath off his belt he threw it behind him and then took his combat knife and laid it carefully on the floor. “In the event if a Drathonian force attempts to harm or destroy Saratar and no evacuation route is supplied for the Intelligence Regiment stationed here; that regiment shall claim themselves a “Sovereign Moonie State” or the Moonie Free State. All malcontent operatives that refuse to abide by this Plan are to be detained and offered the the Terran inhabitants of Saratar hopefully to stimulate the creation of a tentative non-aggression pact between the Free State and the Terrans.” His voice trailed off near the end and once again the little spy shook his head sadly, but this was his duty he had supported and enforced the Regimental Pact and now it had come to this.
Putting his hands behind his back Dart wondered if the girl was just behind him, ready to plunge her knife into his back. He spoke up again speaking to Cibo directly. “Quickly find something to bind me with girl. We both have jobs to do or have you forgotten your an intelligence agent first and a human second?”
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Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2009 11:35 am
"Work something out?" Steven spat at the moonie, he the then gestured towards his chin, "See these marks? These marks are just the surface of what happened to me. I almost went crazy, and at one point I even thought I was surely going to die. Did I get the chance to 'work something out'? No! So now, I am going to see how much force it takes to sever an arm.”
Having said all that needed saying, Steven lunged forward with the combat knife and stabbed it into the moonie’s right shoulder. Withdrawing the knife, he left a large gash and laughed as blood started to run from the wound. He then proceeded to slash wildly at the moonie’s chest.
"Hm, for a hallucination, it feels surprisingly tangible," Steven thought to himself.
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Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2009 3:50 pm
Adrian was adjusting the strap on his duffel when he heard the screams. Quickly forgetting the slight discomfort he began to run towards the noise's source, the medical ward. Skidding to a halt as he turned a corner he saw a man crouched over something his combat knife flashing up and down as they cut into something.
Dropping the duffel he jogged towards the man, the insignia on his uniform marking him as a Captain. When he reached the man he was lifting the knife into the air once again, without thinking the sniper grabbed his wrist. The captain seemed to have some sort of strange scale-like patches of scars on his hands and when he got a look at the man's face more were evident.
The look in the man's eyes worried Adrian a bit and it seemed to carry over to his voice as he spoke. “Sir are you alright?” He asked before he ventured to look at the man's targeting, it was a moonie, read like the one he had knocked out, but the Captain had peeled away the flesh as certain points and stabbed the spy at numerous points.
“Bloody Saints!” The sniper swore and looked around the empty hall before wetting his lips and yelling, “Get me a doctor or even just some damned medic out here now!” Then looking back towards the Captain, a pilot it seemed from his uniform, he forced an iron-like tone onto his voice, “Sir, drop the knife or I will have to break your wrist.” He closed his fist tighter in a quick pulse just to show the officer he meant what he said. Pilots, even when I'm a janitor they still make a mess for a poor marine; Adrian thought darkly to himself.
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Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2009 4:24 pm
When Steven looked over towards Adrian, the change in the look on the pilot’s face was like night and day. The cynical grin he was wearing disappeared as soon as he looked away from the moonie and was replaced with his usual tranquil grin. He was also a little flushed and looked quite embarrassed.
“Oh jeez, did you see that? I just got out of med bay, and I am still kinda out of it. But that doesn’t excuse me swinging around my knife haphazardly in the middle of a hallway. I mean, I would be mortified if I had hurt somebody,” Steven explained to Adrian.
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Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2009 4:31 pm
“Sir.” Adrian said stiffly, not exactly sure how to deal with the situation. “Captain, Sir, the blood on your blade is really there, Sir.” Adrian let go of the pilot's wrist and took a step backward. “If you could hand me the knife Sir, we could then pick that moonie up together and get him into the med ward. Let's not make this more of a mess than it already is.” The sniper held out his hand for the knife, a look of pity on his face.
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Posted: Thu Nov 26, 2009 6:41 pm
Cibo hissed surprisingly like a lizard herself in surprise, before turning her EV-47 to stun mode and aiming between Dart's legs. And then Marcus pistol whipped Dart, following up with a dog-pile and some manacles for good measure. Cibo didn't even care if Dart was still conscious, kicking him for good measure in the gut. She cried out at Marcus, "He was mine!" Cibo, tacked on as an afterthought, "Sir."
"Well, Private." he said, stressing the rank ever so slightly, "You were taking an uncharacteristic time in subduing him. I was worried. After all, you usually take them down fast, and then go on torturing them for hours at a time." he replied with a cheery bravado. Cibo shrugged, wiping off Dart's footprint from her uniform.
"Where's Killy?"
****
"And that is how you properly skin a Drathonian." Yotruyan finished. "Now, don't forget to properly cure the skin if you have the time. So, who wants to take this home? Anyone?" A blond even taller than him stepped forward and raised her hand. And to find someone was taller than he was, was simply quite a surprise to Killy. The Terrans were all shorter than him until now; she was taller than Killy by two inches. "And what is your name?" She pointed to her name badge. Lolita Sartre. The Terran woman took the still warm skin from Killy, and gave him a wink before walking through the crowd, which parted before her.
"Are you Ottyo guys for real?" someone asked.
"Real? I think I'm real. Are you real? Possibly. Or you could be a drug induced hallucination, as real as some teenager's imaginary character produced for a Role Play on some website. But I will bet that you are real. Does that help?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 01, 2009 7:40 pm
The station began to gently shake, as if a breeze was blowing it about. The lights suddenly changed in color, and alarms began to sound. Battlestations were called, and fighters were scrambled. Every ship at the station that was in fighting condition was mustered to face the Drathonian fleet which had suddenly appeared and began to harass Saratar base. Very quickly, the Terran forces began fighting back, firing on the enemy ships, poking holes in shields and exchanging hurt. A few of the Drathonian ships retreated after taking too much damage, but most stayed.
As expected, a cloud of fighters soon approached, but it was met by a cloud from the station. Slugs, plasma, lasers, Ion bolts, and all sorts of munitions were being exchanged in a dazzling lightshow, some hitting shields, some hitting hulls, It was like a fireworks display, almost beautiful if it wasn't for the deadliness.
*****
A group of MP's grabbed the Ottyo, forcing his arms and tail down, and holding him to the floor. "Sorry, but we've been ordered to apprehend you. An admiral has decided to send their disapproval of your methods." the leader said, as his men bound the raptor-like alien. He looked a bit distressed as he saw the mess Killy had made, and wondered what the hell was wrong with that huge marine woman. "Everyone! To your battlestations! Pilots to ships! Marines! Find and capture the Infiltrators! We want them alive if possible!" the MP lieutenant yelled into the hangar, as datapads beeped, telling individuals about the station the same thing.
*****
Fred would get a message calling him to the hangars, as would the rest of Green squadron, Emma, Steven, and Arcadia included. their fighters were being prepped, and all sorts of things were going on. It was a battle. a big one, a bad one, and it had appeared out of nowhere.
*****
The Drathonian corvette made contact with the happless freighter, the colliding ships looking somewhat silly as they bumped around for a moment before suddenly buckling and beginning to explode into one another, creating a massive explosion and sending debris everywhere, some of it passing through the small battlefield, smashing into the fighters there, somehow hitting exclusively the Drathonian fighters. The Carrier Folded out of that area of space and towards Saratar, leaving the 50 fighters behind to deal with the 14 Terran fighters.
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Posted: Tue Dec 01, 2009 10:37 pm
Fred reached for his datapad and quickly read the message. He looked quite irritated after he finished reading, and proceeded to hand his gun off to an MP. “Time for another role change,” the Irishman said before running off down the hallway towards the hangar.
Steven had a similar reaction to his message. “Sorry, gotta fly,” he said as he ran off down the hall.
About halfway to the hangar there was a hallway merge, and as the Captain passed it Fred came barreling around the corner and the two pilots almost collided.
“What the hell? Watch it, Captain. Captain? Captain! You're all better?” Fred stammered as he regained himself.
“I'm as good as I can be considering my ordeal,” Steven replied as he gestured towards the marks on his chin, and noted a slight grimace on Fred's face in response. Steven motioned for Fred to talk while they continued towards the hangar. “Hehe, I might have to change my title from 'Phoenix' to 'Wyvern' cause of these cracks,” he joked to his friend about his healing scars.
“Hm, Captain Steven 'The Wyvern' Kerning? Eh, we'll see if it grows on me,” the Irishman responded.
The two pilots rounded the corner into the hangar of Saratar Station and quickly found the staging area for Green Squadron. As they reached their scimitars, in almost synchronized motion, the two veteran pilots climbed up onto their scimitars and dived into the cockpits. Both went through their motions, getting ready for the coming battle.
As Steven put his flight helmet on his head he winced as it brushed against the cracks in his skin. He gingerly ran his fingers across the wound and noticed a faint hint of stubble returning to his face, but he also realized that the painkillers for the cracks were beginning to lose effect. That meant that all the places on his body that have the cracks were going to begin to sting a lot. He discarded the thought and got back to work making sure all systems were green, as soon as he was satisfied he turned his attention to attendance; he was missing four of his twelve pilots. He scowled as he glimpsed out the hangar doors at the already unfolding dogfight. “Hurry up, guys, don't wanna be late for the party,” he mumbled under his breath.
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