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The Lost Race: Part Four
Posted By: Imperorator_Jon<darthbalfy@yahoo.com>
Date: 1 September 2006, 1:34 am
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Eric quickly increased pace to a jog, realizing the full implications of that a single dropship could take multiple rockets and keep going. He quickly found a hastily-painted sign leading to a "Command Room" he had heard of faint rumors that a General Blackroot had taken over another colony's military. Yet the descriptions were never favorable of him. He quickly burst into the room, ignoring the secretary. "General! The enemy dropships are swarming every district in the city!"
As soon as he opened the door, he saw the exact description of General Blackroot before him. The man was a large, stout, man of about three hundred pounds. This large weight was kept inside by a general's uniform with yellow shoulder pads. He had a grey moustache that was curled around at the edges, with an equally grey toupee at the top. The large man was leaned over a pre-fabricated metal desk. His blue eyes pierced into Eric with hate and contempt. His pink cheeks seemed like large, bulbous, cherries.
The marine soon felt a pair of Military Police grab him by the arms, beginning to pull him away. The general stood up, his large legs supporting the large mass with a strange grace. Blackroot walked around his desk, soon standing in front of Eric, yet he still managed to look down on the marine with his noose stuck up in the air like any arrogant bastard. "Let him go boys, I could use a cheap laugh." Eric was already tempted to sucker punch the man, his southern drawl condescending in every manner.
"Sir, the aliens have begun to land massive amounts of units onto the planet, may I ask what you plan to do?" Eric asked, his mind already weary of the general's tone and attitude. "Well son, we plan to do what we do to every foreign thing on this planet! We'll kill it and make sure it's dead!" He used a 'babying' tone on the marine, treating him as if some two-year-old boy ran into his office asking what he planned to do about the 'big bad monsters'. Yet again, Eric's primal urge to attack him rose. Yet there was little he could do to the self-glorifying bastard.
Eric only sighed as General Blackroot waved him away, the marine wasted no time returning to above ground, hoping to burn off some steam. As he exited out into the open ground, he heard a faint whump whump whump in the distance. He watched as the sky filled with tracer rounds and missiles alike, inexperienced crews trying to trace the agile tear-shaped fighters darting throughout the sky. These small teardrops were followed closely by the triangle-shaped fighters of his own people. He watched with morbid fascination as explosions dotted the sky. Yet all of this was ended when a sleek purple object fell from the sky, gliding towards the city edge. The purple hull seemed to have a 'fish hook' bridge, with no visible propulsion system in the rear. The massive hulk came down in sections, some turning into deadly fragments in the air, others slamming into different parts of the city. The marine soldier braced himself as the ground shook with hellish fury, a mushroom cloud of dirt and gravel raining down from the main crash site.
The marine watched with pure awe at the fury of the landing. The corporal soon snapped out of his daze, drilled reflexes taking over. He quickly moved with the already-bustling pack of soldiers who were moving towards the small motor pool of LRVs and Scorpion tanks. Eric knew that being prepared was worthy, and moved into the quickly-fabricated armory. Inside were pistols, shotguns, and rifles of all types. He knew he would have a tough fight on his hands, so he grabbed the best he could.
The soldier could only smile as he picked up the unbalanced weight of an M6D pistol, the gun unloaded. He quickly picked up a handful of clips, sliding one into the metal weapon with trained grace. He quietly pulled back the slide and turned his attention to a small box marked 'M9 HE-DPs'. He smiled and flipped open the box, revealing twelve green orbs of explosive death. He didn't want to go off like a fireworks stand if he was hit, so he only grabbed five; attaching them to his belt.
He also had the M90, which he had non-chalantly slung before he entered into the main complex. Eric decided that a few more slugs could never hurt and- after a bit of searching- found an exotic case filled with 'Dragon's breath' slugs. He wasn't sure what they did, but nevertheless grabbed six of them, putting them into a separate pouch on his belt. He was fully prepared, and decided that this would do for whatever he was about to face.
The marine quickly double-timed it back to the motor pool, where one of the Pelican dropships was about to take off. The fearsome warbird was not well-armed, only carrying two pods of Argent V rockets and an outdated pair of chainguns. Definitely not the 'glorious ride into the sky' he was hoping for. Yet it would do to take him and his fellow Marines to the crash site. Eric jumped into the poorly-padded interior, taking a seat in the crammed dropship. In the back a lone LRV was attached,
Eric braced himself as the quickly-readied engines ignited, their poor maintenance showing as the engines struggled to leave the cityscape. Yet quickly relaxed as the engines finally reached a steady beat, the pilot maintaining the dropship as it glided towards the fallen ship, which seemed to be ablaze in the distance. The small squad wasn't alone in the task of taking it however, six other fully-equipped dropships were tagging along. Along side the dropships were several Longswords, armed to the teeth for the fight ahead.
Strapping on a helmet-fitting face piece, Eric used optical commands to check through his armor. The FoF system was fine, highlighting each of his companions with a green aura of dull light. He looked towards the back, the LRV highlighted in gray. In the upper right corner stood a small reading of his biosigns, showing his body as in excellent condition. The Marine continued through his check of his armor and weapons during the flight, expecting something wrong the entire time.
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