Catch a fistful of sky

This too, is part of a greater whole. | March 20, 2010

Kipling saw the two platoons that Ianviur had avoided before they saw him. Between his assault armors shifting camoflague and Delah’s own scales, they would be so much darkness. Talking through his radio, Kipling killed the glow off his dreamblade. “Do you see them? That’s a lot of trouble just running through the woods,” he said.

“Aye, sure do. How do you want to do this? Looks like they’ve bunched up into a big formation instead of keeping their distance,” said the dinosaur, pulling up as they made their battle plan and activating a cool spot to mask their heat signature.

“Well the Peacers may have the numbers, but there’s a reason they’re called the Peace Federation. Anyway, I figure most of their veteran troops got cut down when we took this world. Maybe local forces? They’re certainly not moving like Defenders,” said Kip.

“Leave the analysis to the Illurians. What are we going to do about 50 troopers, give or take, before they back up their friends?” she asked.

Kipling got back on tangent. “Do one run through that mass right there, and then head on towards the Rulonian. If we pin them in place for long enough we should be alright.”

“Should being the key word there,” she said.

“Its all we have,” he responded, drawing the heavy barrel assault pistol and letting it lock itself to his wrist for support, “Let’s go spread some hatred and discontent.”

The two took off through the woods, covering the five hundred meters or so in no time at all. At the last second Kipling activated his dreamblade, and the soldier on the perimeter didn’t have time to register the scarlet blade slicing through him, leaving a blue trail through the air. Delah leapt them, screeching the entire way and landing in a knot of troopers and slicing through two as she came down, disemboweling. Kip’s pistol gave its heavy bass thump as it emptied ballistics into the backs of the fleeing enemies, punching holes easily through the light armor. There were screams now, and troops turning back into the center of the chaos to find out what was going on. Delah’s shoulder cannons fired brightly, and cut down several more foes, leaving chunks of steaming meat.

“Alright girl, time to cut our way out,” Kip directed. Delah screeched again and bounded off, the gamma rifle along her tail spitting beams out at any pursuers wildly. Kipling swung his dreamblade twice more, each time increasing the psychic residue in the air of terror that would be seeping into the bones of the Naith behind him and discouraging pursuit.

His shield activated several times as they fled, but looking back he could see the air filled with miniaturized projectiles, scattered around them. At this time he noticed a small icon in his HUD, a skull rictus of some unit that was seeking to com with him. “Go ahead for Dragoon 5-7,” he said.

“Dragoon 5-7, this is Reaper. We’ll be capsule dropping into your position here shortly. All other troops are busy for boarding purposes. It seems the whole Letarii fleet just showed up and its touch and go on the other side of the planet,” said the voice. It sounded flat and mechanical, but Kipling was more shocked that a Reaper unit was participating in a direct action mission.  They were commandos. Special missions and black operations were their bread and butter.

“Must be pretty dire, if they’re sending you guys down here to deal with grunt level work,” said the sergeant. 

The voice on the other end laughed. It was a dry hollow thing, the laugh you’d hear from someone who broke your back and was appreciative of the time he’d have to slice you up slow. “Don’t worry sergeant, if we’re getting rusty, you let me and my boys know,”


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Paratrooper. Correctional Officer. Federal Agent. Hello world, these are my thoughts and this is my story.







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