Wesforce
06-05-2004, 04:59 AM
(Something random I wrote on a whim, the prologue to something much larger I'm writing. Please excuse my use of cliche'd action and comic-like sound effects :) )
Stormfront 30
Corporal Wanter addressed his men and women one final time before the assault began.
‘Listen up fraggers! Check your weapons one final time. Check your gear – check the gear of the Stormer next to you. This is the real deal, and I don’t want any of you fragging it up – We don’t want those ****s in ’25 lording it over us, right?’
‘Right Corp!’ The Stormers echoed – But they didn't sound enthusiastic enough for Wanter. He had a very bad feeling about this. Very very bad.
The craft touched down so hard that several stormers were thrown free of their harnesses. The ramp’s exploding bolts blew and sent it flying into the sand outside. Smoke and blood and screaming and the thwip thwip thwip of Gauss MGs flooded into the dropship’s hold.
‘GO GO GO!’ Wanter screamed, unnecessarily. The Stormers charged out of the ship. The enemy bastards must have had a gun nest with good view of the exit ramp, because Stormers were getting cut down almost as soon as their boots hit the sand. Then the dropship’s suppression weapons kicked in.
EEEEEEEE-VWAAAAAAP!
Men and pieces of men and sand fused to glass by the heat of the plasma blast went flying everywhere in a blue-white ball of incandescence.
Suddenly sparks started spanging off the side of the dropship as another Gauss MG opened up on it.
Wanter and a handful of men cleared the murder-hole as an RPG round whooshed just over head.
BOOM!
All went flying – One man minus his head thanks to shrapnel. The dropship had taken the hit in an engine pod. It wouldn’t be flying anywhere for a while. Now the MG Turned its attention on the surviving men of Stormfront 30.
‘Dig in!’ Yelled Wanter.
Wanter’s eye-protectors had been broken when he flung himself into the dirt with the explosion – He took them off to take a look at them.
VWIP VWIP VWIP!
Wanter couldn’t see. He screamed. He grabbed at his eyes – They were still there. But he had a rough idea what had happened to him. Blinding lasers must have gotten him, seared out his optic nerves.
‘Frag!’ Screamed the man next to him. ‘Corp’s down!’
There wasn’t much the men could do for him – They advanced, fired back at the enemy with their SA80A4s or kept their heads down.
Wanter took something out of his webbing. He knew it by its touch. It was covered in plastic foil, which he whipped off. Then, falling back on his emergency training again, he located the plug end of the device, then took off his helmet.
Fragging hell. Can I really do this?
He tried to convince himself, but wasn’t so sure.
Someone gurgled nearby – The finality of a throat wound.
Frag it. Here goes nothing…
Breathing hard, he rammed the point of the plug against his temple with all his strength. He screamed, convulsed and almost blacked out. The expected stabbing pain in his head, the sickly sound of crunching skull – ll were there and as unpleasant as they sounded.
Then the device whirred. The self-guided plug wormed its way into his head, into his brain. It was careful not to damage brain tissue, and soon located the optic nerve, which it attached itself too.
Wanter had the eerie sensation of a third eye suddenly coming under his control – It was at a very off angle and saw in crackly, one-dimensional black and white.
He fumbled for the thing’s eyepiece by feeling along the cable that was plugged into his head. He found it – The eyepiece came with a headstrap, which he buckled on, securing the bio-electronic third eye into place on his forehead. His helmet would interfere with the eye, so he left it off, and picked up his SA80A4.
‘Better luck next time, you bastards.’
Stormfront 30
Corporal Wanter addressed his men and women one final time before the assault began.
‘Listen up fraggers! Check your weapons one final time. Check your gear – check the gear of the Stormer next to you. This is the real deal, and I don’t want any of you fragging it up – We don’t want those ****s in ’25 lording it over us, right?’
‘Right Corp!’ The Stormers echoed – But they didn't sound enthusiastic enough for Wanter. He had a very bad feeling about this. Very very bad.
The craft touched down so hard that several stormers were thrown free of their harnesses. The ramp’s exploding bolts blew and sent it flying into the sand outside. Smoke and blood and screaming and the thwip thwip thwip of Gauss MGs flooded into the dropship’s hold.
‘GO GO GO!’ Wanter screamed, unnecessarily. The Stormers charged out of the ship. The enemy bastards must have had a gun nest with good view of the exit ramp, because Stormers were getting cut down almost as soon as their boots hit the sand. Then the dropship’s suppression weapons kicked in.
EEEEEEEE-VWAAAAAAP!
Men and pieces of men and sand fused to glass by the heat of the plasma blast went flying everywhere in a blue-white ball of incandescence.
Suddenly sparks started spanging off the side of the dropship as another Gauss MG opened up on it.
Wanter and a handful of men cleared the murder-hole as an RPG round whooshed just over head.
BOOM!
All went flying – One man minus his head thanks to shrapnel. The dropship had taken the hit in an engine pod. It wouldn’t be flying anywhere for a while. Now the MG Turned its attention on the surviving men of Stormfront 30.
‘Dig in!’ Yelled Wanter.
Wanter’s eye-protectors had been broken when he flung himself into the dirt with the explosion – He took them off to take a look at them.
VWIP VWIP VWIP!
Wanter couldn’t see. He screamed. He grabbed at his eyes – They were still there. But he had a rough idea what had happened to him. Blinding lasers must have gotten him, seared out his optic nerves.
‘Frag!’ Screamed the man next to him. ‘Corp’s down!’
There wasn’t much the men could do for him – They advanced, fired back at the enemy with their SA80A4s or kept their heads down.
Wanter took something out of his webbing. He knew it by its touch. It was covered in plastic foil, which he whipped off. Then, falling back on his emergency training again, he located the plug end of the device, then took off his helmet.
Fragging hell. Can I really do this?
He tried to convince himself, but wasn’t so sure.
Someone gurgled nearby – The finality of a throat wound.
Frag it. Here goes nothing…
Breathing hard, he rammed the point of the plug against his temple with all his strength. He screamed, convulsed and almost blacked out. The expected stabbing pain in his head, the sickly sound of crunching skull – ll were there and as unpleasant as they sounded.
Then the device whirred. The self-guided plug wormed its way into his head, into his brain. It was careful not to damage brain tissue, and soon located the optic nerve, which it attached itself too.
Wanter had the eerie sensation of a third eye suddenly coming under his control – It was at a very off angle and saw in crackly, one-dimensional black and white.
He fumbled for the thing’s eyepiece by feeling along the cable that was plugged into his head. He found it – The eyepiece came with a headstrap, which he buckled on, securing the bio-electronic third eye into place on his forehead. His helmet would interfere with the eye, so he left it off, and picked up his SA80A4.
‘Better luck next time, you bastards.’