Apache_Longbow
04-13-2004, 09:30 PM
I got bored. Aren't you guys lucky :p
The lights shone brightly, circling the outside of the massive concrete wall and letting everyone around know just where the base was. It was a complex of epic proportions, a modern achievement of architectural wonder that spanned nearly a square mile. The industrial sound of machines at work echoed through the empty space outside the borders and were magnified even more by the chilling cold of the night air. An arc of light emanated from inside out, faintly fading high in the sky and making stargazing an absolute impossibility. It was, all in all, an impressive sight that nobody wanted to see. The buildings themselves were beautiful, modern, and state of the art, and the only thing most of the remaining population on earth wanted to do was destroy them. There was just no reason to love anything having to do with the Brotherhood of Nod.
From his perch far away, Coal Kerry sat patiently, awaiting word from HQ. He reached up towards his face, running his hand over the right side of it. His face was smooth at first, but in only a moment was broken up by the blemishes embedded permanently in his skin, the Tiberium crystals that were a result of Tiberium poisoning. Coal was part of the Forgotten, a group of deformed outcasts who nobody needed and nobody cared about. But unlike most other Shiners, the glow that accompanied the crystals was absent, replaced by a jet-black hue that exactly matched the shade of his eyes. It was for this strange colorization that his mother had changed his name from ‘Cole’ to its present form when he was five years old. To accompany his strange facial features, his hair was faded white; just another side effect of the Tiberium poisoning that he had been forced to endure throughout of his life. He wore a light armor vest, although it wasn’t visible through the trench coat that draped over it, and he carried a bag at his right hip, the lone strap slung over his left shoulder and diagonally across his torso. His dark gray cargo pants held a volume of different objects, strewn throughout it’s many pockets in an un-orderly fashion, but in such a way that he knew where everything was. He carried a backpack along with his hip bag, the black package hanging off of him by both straps, one on each shoulder slinging down into his armpits and back to the bag. The pack was used only to store the C4 that Kerry used frequently on his secret trips to Nod bases, destroying any building he was instructed to with a coldness that conflicted with his warm and kind personality. Next to him lay his one line of defense; a railgun, large in size and power for a personalized weapon but relatively small compared to many of the different variants placed on tanks. It was this very gun that had saved him from death more than a handful of times, and it was his most prized possession.
He heard the usual static gargle over the radio. To the untrained human, it was merely a jumble of indiscernible sounds, but to Kerry, who had lived with a radio receptor constantly in his ear for the last couple of years, it was translated into a message.
“Grill to charcoal, grill to charcoal, Operation Barbeque is a go, repeat, barbeque is a go.” It was a message from his high command, using code words that were easy to recognize, thanks to Kerry’s reworked name.
Coal stood up, his six foot two frame stretching for a brief second before he resumed a crouching position. He listened intently in the distance, straining to pick up the first hint of the high whine of the Orcas. He soon picked it up, and new it was time for action.
He lifted up his combat boots and began his quick run towards the Nod base ahead. He had been previously hiding in a patch of trees 150 yards away from the concrete barrier around the base. He quickly emerged from the foliage and raced his way to the wall, not caring about any observers who could be watching him. It was late at night, and although there were lights all around the complex, the observers attention would be most certainly elsewhere; he knew because the soft whine of the Orca engines had turned into a deafening, high-pitched roar. As he arrived at the base of the wall, he put his back to it and looked up.
The large hovercraft came blazing in, jumping out of the pitch-black sky and only visible for a split-second before they disappeared under the top of the wall. Kerry could hear the bombers dropping their payloads, as well as the echoing explosion of the SAM sites down on the ground firing their salvos at the incoming enemy. Coal quickly brought his backpack down in front of him and opened it up, grabbing two C4 charges before closing up the pack and throwing it back on properly. He wired the explosives and placed them on the side of the wall, his hands working efficiently in order to be ready in time. He raced down the side of the wall, getting enough space between himself and the live bombs so that he wouldn’t become a burnt corpse littering the ground when they went off. He stopped and listened, waiting for the sound of the last bomb hitting the ground. Once it came he took a deep breath, and slammed on the button that controlled the explosives.
A violent flash filled the night air, and the wall was shredded into rubble and pushed into the base. As smoke billowed upwards, Kerry grabbed his railgun, flicked off its safety mechanism, and ran towards the opening. He was alone, but he was a Ghoststalker, part of the Forgotten, and he was used to it by now.
The only thing on his mind was destroying the Nod soldiers before they had a chance to destroy him.
More to come...
The lights shone brightly, circling the outside of the massive concrete wall and letting everyone around know just where the base was. It was a complex of epic proportions, a modern achievement of architectural wonder that spanned nearly a square mile. The industrial sound of machines at work echoed through the empty space outside the borders and were magnified even more by the chilling cold of the night air. An arc of light emanated from inside out, faintly fading high in the sky and making stargazing an absolute impossibility. It was, all in all, an impressive sight that nobody wanted to see. The buildings themselves were beautiful, modern, and state of the art, and the only thing most of the remaining population on earth wanted to do was destroy them. There was just no reason to love anything having to do with the Brotherhood of Nod.
From his perch far away, Coal Kerry sat patiently, awaiting word from HQ. He reached up towards his face, running his hand over the right side of it. His face was smooth at first, but in only a moment was broken up by the blemishes embedded permanently in his skin, the Tiberium crystals that were a result of Tiberium poisoning. Coal was part of the Forgotten, a group of deformed outcasts who nobody needed and nobody cared about. But unlike most other Shiners, the glow that accompanied the crystals was absent, replaced by a jet-black hue that exactly matched the shade of his eyes. It was for this strange colorization that his mother had changed his name from ‘Cole’ to its present form when he was five years old. To accompany his strange facial features, his hair was faded white; just another side effect of the Tiberium poisoning that he had been forced to endure throughout of his life. He wore a light armor vest, although it wasn’t visible through the trench coat that draped over it, and he carried a bag at his right hip, the lone strap slung over his left shoulder and diagonally across his torso. His dark gray cargo pants held a volume of different objects, strewn throughout it’s many pockets in an un-orderly fashion, but in such a way that he knew where everything was. He carried a backpack along with his hip bag, the black package hanging off of him by both straps, one on each shoulder slinging down into his armpits and back to the bag. The pack was used only to store the C4 that Kerry used frequently on his secret trips to Nod bases, destroying any building he was instructed to with a coldness that conflicted with his warm and kind personality. Next to him lay his one line of defense; a railgun, large in size and power for a personalized weapon but relatively small compared to many of the different variants placed on tanks. It was this very gun that had saved him from death more than a handful of times, and it was his most prized possession.
He heard the usual static gargle over the radio. To the untrained human, it was merely a jumble of indiscernible sounds, but to Kerry, who had lived with a radio receptor constantly in his ear for the last couple of years, it was translated into a message.
“Grill to charcoal, grill to charcoal, Operation Barbeque is a go, repeat, barbeque is a go.” It was a message from his high command, using code words that were easy to recognize, thanks to Kerry’s reworked name.
Coal stood up, his six foot two frame stretching for a brief second before he resumed a crouching position. He listened intently in the distance, straining to pick up the first hint of the high whine of the Orcas. He soon picked it up, and new it was time for action.
He lifted up his combat boots and began his quick run towards the Nod base ahead. He had been previously hiding in a patch of trees 150 yards away from the concrete barrier around the base. He quickly emerged from the foliage and raced his way to the wall, not caring about any observers who could be watching him. It was late at night, and although there were lights all around the complex, the observers attention would be most certainly elsewhere; he knew because the soft whine of the Orca engines had turned into a deafening, high-pitched roar. As he arrived at the base of the wall, he put his back to it and looked up.
The large hovercraft came blazing in, jumping out of the pitch-black sky and only visible for a split-second before they disappeared under the top of the wall. Kerry could hear the bombers dropping their payloads, as well as the echoing explosion of the SAM sites down on the ground firing their salvos at the incoming enemy. Coal quickly brought his backpack down in front of him and opened it up, grabbing two C4 charges before closing up the pack and throwing it back on properly. He wired the explosives and placed them on the side of the wall, his hands working efficiently in order to be ready in time. He raced down the side of the wall, getting enough space between himself and the live bombs so that he wouldn’t become a burnt corpse littering the ground when they went off. He stopped and listened, waiting for the sound of the last bomb hitting the ground. Once it came he took a deep breath, and slammed on the button that controlled the explosives.
A violent flash filled the night air, and the wall was shredded into rubble and pushed into the base. As smoke billowed upwards, Kerry grabbed his railgun, flicked off its safety mechanism, and ran towards the opening. He was alone, but he was a Ghoststalker, part of the Forgotten, and he was used to it by now.
The only thing on his mind was destroying the Nod soldiers before they had a chance to destroy him.
More to come...