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Post by Catachan Colonel on Mar 2, 2008 11:30:30 GMT -5
Colonel Norton made his way through the thick jungle vegetation following the signal on his hand-held scanner. Fire and death had rained down from space through out the last night. Debris from an enormous battle in space littered the death world, Xirsos. Ancient starships had battled in space and the refuse and escape vessels from that battle had come down in a fiery storm. Colonel Norton followed the signal on his scanner knowing it led to his forces most important ally.
Ships of the Iron Warriors traitor space marines had guarded his skies in a secret pact that somehow served both of their peoples. They were a constant reassurance to the might that the Colonel and his peers had extended into space. They had kept away the prying eyes of the Imperium’s soldiers sent to destroy him and his peers, and had even blasted away a fleet of the Tyranid horde who had come following the spores of the original Tyranid fleet which had turned Xirsos into a death world. Ten days ago an ancient ship had entered the system in which Xirsos lay.
Five days ago the ship had been identified as a Despoiler class battleship of the Iron Warriors.
Two days ago the battleship had taken orbit around Xirsos along with the Iron Warriors Fleet. Messages had been relayed that all was well.
One Day ago all hell broke loose in space. Now, Colonel Norton followed his scanners signal through the jungle.
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Veteran Sergeant Smithgal adjusted the brim of his black beret. It was hotter than it had been in years and the jungle was ablaze, sparked by wreckage from the stars. He and his men did not complain. Discomfort was common when you had been on patrol as long as he and his man had been. He hated the dreariness of life back at the underground bunkers. He had volunteered for seven back-to-back deployments out in the rough.
The patrol unit’s spotter gave a silent hand signal instantly caught by each member of the unit. Sergeant Smithgal slid his las pistol from its holster, peering ahead for a sign of the enemy that had stopped the movement of his squad. They could be heard before they were seen. Sounds of heavy mashing boots and the hiss of servo assisted armor crushing the vegetation before them emanated from the jungle. There had been a crash nearby. Had some survivors from the battle in space become stranded in a death world?
Hacking at the vegetation with a spinning chain sword, the very first Iron Warrior stepped into view. His armor was burnt and soot covered, it’s steel color trimmed in gold and blackened by fire. The chaos marines seemed oblivious to the presence of the Catachan patrol through the trees. They simply made their way on an unerring course seemingly straight toward the bunker complex that housed the Catachan forces. Normally the presence of Iron Warriors would be a welcome sight of the Catachan’s allies. Sergeant Smithgal however, saw these Iron Warriors were different. They smelled different. A smell of decay was about them and jungle flies trailed them. These Iron Warriors were not his allies and they were heading straight towards home.
-+- Colonel Norton had finally made his way to the source of the signal. There was the wreckage of an escape pod. The pod had not hit softly into the ground and already jungle vines were beginning to overtake the pieces. Colonel Norton had already searched the area and found the burnt remains of all the escape pod’s occupants. All of them were chaos terminators of the Iron Warriors legion. The most stunning of all was the body if its commander, a terminator covered in scars of battle. His armor was ripped by blades, and pocked by gunfire. His chest plate had been rended open from the belt to the neck, in a manner that could be described as having resulted from some kind claw-like attacks. There was a burnt and mangled corpse inside. The commander’s lifeless body still wore the remains of half his terminator’s helmet. His head was more skull than head, only tatters of burnt flesh and melted cybernetic bits hung to it. The body was missing its right arm, only a tattered cybernetic stump remained. In spite of all of its damage the remains could not be mistaken. This was the body of the Catachan’s most powerful ally.
This was the body of Lord Asteroth Hellforge Warsmith of the Iron Warriors!
(To be continued...)
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Post by Catachan Colonel on Mar 4, 2008 9:37:21 GMT -5
Colonel Lobdell was taking a tour of duty as part of a Catachan Devil unit out in the deep jungle. He had recently been in charge of the whole Catachan army on Xirsos. It was the custom of his people however, that even a high military commander such as himself took tours in the field. It was while he was in the field with the Catachan Devils veteran ambush unit that the rain of fire came from the skies of Xirsos. The Catachan Devils had made their way from the deep wood to within a few miles of the Catachan’s home bunker complex when they made contact with the enemy.
Hiding among the trees the veteran devils waited while they were passed by a group of what looked like Iron Warrior chaos space marines. The Iron Warriors were well known to Colonel Lobdell. He was the officer responsible for first negotiating the alliance between the Catachans and the Iron Warriors. These chaos space marines in spite of first appearance were not the Iron Warriors that he knew. They decorated themselves with skulls and carried brutal chain axes. There was fresh blood splattered on the chests and arms of their power armor and hanging from the belts of more than one of the chaos marines was a still dripping human head. Colonel Lobdell knew the face belonging to one of those heads it was a friend of his.
The Colonel took stock in the armaments available to his unit. All the members of his devils carried mars pattern lascarbines, and most of the squad carried 10 gauge combat shotguns. In the way of heavier armament three of the team carried flame throwers. He and the squads sergeant both carried service laspistols and light duty power fists. Against a squad of well armored chaos space marines their armament would be considered quite light. However all Catachans were formidable hand to hand fighters. And every Catachan carried a razor sharp combat ready knife.
If these savages were here instead of the Iron Warriors he knew, then there was trouble. Colonel Lobdell ordered the charge. Shotguns fired and red hot flamer fire bathed the chaos marines.
-+-
Colonel Norton raced back though the trees. Every few paces he spun around firing his bolt pistol into the thick vegetation. From his flanks his bodyguard could be heard doing the same. There were unspeakable things after him and his men. Monsters that resembled bloated corpses with claws dripping in puss. There were seven of the monsters who originally gave chase. Colonel Norton was sure he had seen one of his guards take one out just as the chase began. It must have been luck because otherwise the Catachans weapons seemed useless.
Speed was the Catachans only advantage over those monsters. Experienced jungle fighters made their way through the vegetation as if it was clear terrain. The daemons behind them sometimes stumbled. Speed was what the Catachans needed as they ran for their lives back to the safety of the bunkers. The Colonel hoped they had enough speed to outdistance the vile monsters that gave them chase.
The Catachans had let their guard down when they saw the body of the Warsmith. They were shocked. They were amazed. They were sloppy and careless. A chaos sorcerer came upon them before they spotted him. That chaos sorcerer with only a gesture and a word summoned these daemons from his own dark magic. The sorcerer summoned the foulest of all daemons. Daemons who currently gave chase.
Now, Colonel Norton ran for his life through the jungle.
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Inquisitor Delshie looked down at the bloody mess laying head down at the table in front of her. Delshie had stumbled to the quarters of the mystic who she employed. The mystic’s room aboard the Fire Claws’ Strike Cruiser named “The Burning Talon” was covered in blood and bits of brain. Delshie herself felt like her head had almost exploded. This mystic was obviously not strong enough to endure “the message” as the Inquisitor had been.
They both had received a psychic broadcast so strong it likely took the life of many a weaker psychic. No doubt that the Fire Claws Librarian had heard it too. Possibly every psychic in this galactic segmentum had received it. “Hellforge is slain! An new era begins.”
The Inquisitor shook her head. She was in awful pain. Quietly she cursed. “Even the news of Hellforge’s demise will slay the Emperor’s noble men.”
Inquisitor Delshie began to stumble his way to The Burning Talon’s command bridge. He and The Fire Claws’s Captain needed to discuss what to do with this news.
Elsewhere other powerful men that either more vile, or more virtuous than Delshie, pondered the same thing.
-+-
Colonel Norton broke the tree line. Now all he could do was run and hope that the bunkers defenders would see his flight. He could feel the feted breath behind him. The stink of daemons was close behind him. Norton ran for all he was worth across the bare rock that surrounded the Catachan base. The rock was burnt daily to keep the death world at bay. He could no longer hear his bodyguards. He had not in some time. The Colonel spared a moment to look behind to see if any were still there.
When Norton turned he tripped. He fell hard to the rock slitting his lip and tearing open the legs of his fatigues. His bolt pistol slipped from his grasp as he fell. It landed a couple meters away. It may as well have been miles. A daemon was already leaping to attack. Claws swung in a deadly arc to the Colonel’s throat. And the colonel and daemon both were showered in sparks of blue light. Colonel Norton’s protective refractor field had saved him.
Colonel Norton could then hear the sound of trumpets. It was a musical call of the trumpets of the emperor’s angels. They sounded out from behind him with the sounds of salvation. They sounded angry notes made by the bunker's heavy bolters. The daemon was struck three times by the notes of those deadly trumpets before exploding into a cloud of black flies and a rain of maggots and puss. The Colonel had barely been saved.
The heavy bolters did not stop when the daemon chasing him exploded. Colonel Norton looked to the left and the right. All around him heavy bolter shells flew through the air covering the escape of several squads of his men as they too ran from the tree line. Some followed by daemons some by savage Chaos Space Marines. The heavy bolters of his home desperately tried to hammer back the Catachans foes.
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To Be Continued
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Garou24
Chapter Master
Posts: 1,530
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Post by Garou24 on Mar 4, 2008 9:54:54 GMT -5
Where is Sergeant Coe? hes a bad-ass!
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Post by Catachan Colonel on Mar 4, 2008 20:26:37 GMT -5
Calm down Iron Warrior. The rule was that noting about other peoples characters was permanent unless written by the owner. But we all posted character names for public use/refrence. I have also used Hellforge in a respectful way before. I have been careful not to change Asteroths character or have him do anything blatantly off character. Nor have i made any permanent changes. (in a sci-fi world of clones and duplicates and 3 diffrent hellforges so far and where time for warp travellers does not flow strait.) Only things i may have established it that "someday Asteroth may meet a violent end. (Which for a chaos lord isn't that odd.) And that it would be big news. (according to the story "Killer news") Mostly keep reading, i will have more tomorrow morning. (I think)
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Post by Catachan Colonel on Mar 4, 2008 20:59:37 GMT -5
it all sounds possible except for the rock part, we all know Smithgal's head is harder than any rock.
It needs more flavor text.
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Garou24
Chapter Master
Posts: 1,530
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Post by Garou24 on Mar 4, 2008 21:02:06 GMT -5
Well i liked the story... I hope Ron allows you to write more!!
Don't forget Sergeant Coe! Wearer of the yellow tank top and smiter of fowl termagants.
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Post by Lord Dacius on Mar 4, 2008 21:19:39 GMT -5
and what will become of poor sniper Dacius? or if it helps my last name is Stock
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Post by Catachan Colonel on Mar 5, 2008 9:15:01 GMT -5
The attacks on the Catachan bunkers persisted through out the night and into the next day. On the last of the attacks A monstrous winged daemon prince was dragged down and send back to hell by the Catachan’s compliment of Ogryn. The ogryn leader called Big Bone 'ead Cipolla reported in that his big lads could not take down another such monster.
A day passed in the bunkers without incident, and then another. Colonel Norton deployed his patrols back to the deep woods to look for further signs of chaos marines. Within a day's hike the veteran patrols reported back in that all was clear. The jungle was even creeping back over land that had been ablaze from the fallen star ship debris. The patrols returned to where Colonel Norton claimed that he had found the body of the Warsmith, but nothing was found but a few scraps of armor. There no body, no blood nothing substantial that could collaborate the Colonel’s story.
Colonel Norton knew what he had seen. He didn’t care what proof the jungle still left him. Colonel Norton also know what it meant to him and his warriors. The patrols were recalled. The remaining officers of the Catachans on Xirsos were summoned. They would be leaving Xirsos.
-+-
In the skies above Xirsos was the drifting pieces of ancient star ships. Xirsos hungry gravity would eventually take even these pieces. You could not tell what was what out there. The only hulk that could be identified was that of a Hades class heavy cruiser “Dragon of Iron.” The ship was still burning and spewing radiation into space. The Catachan transport ships kept their distance as they transitioned to the warp. They were not equipped for salvage anyway.
Colonel Norton looked out the small window in his private room on board the transport. How could anyone have dared attack them. Worse, how could anyone have done so well. He had found his army’s psychic messengers dead in the bunker when he had went to find them. There was no way to contact anyone. He was lucky to have enough transport ships available for his forces.
Their destination was the factory world Dalton 4. It had long been held by the Warsmith’s forces. Basilisks were produced there. Every piece was built from local materials. Ordinance, cannon and mobile chassis all had factories there. The Catachans made use of some of Dalton 4’s basilisks when they were off world. Colonel Norton knew that the Warsmith usually kept only a single company of Iron warriors on that world. That was 210 chaos space marines and the lieutenant that commanded them. Lieutenant Zhu was his name, if Colonel Norton remembered correctly.
Gellar fields hummed around the transport ship keeping them safe from the warp around them. The trip should not be long.
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Inquisitor Delshie stomped back into her cabin in a rage. “They will think about it!” she screamed!
The power of the warp ebbed as it had not done in years. They had received the mysterious message proclaiming the death of Hellforge. Whole legions who once raged across the galactic segmentum had taken their ruined forces into hiding or tore themselves apart in bitter infighting. Everything she had learned in the last few months told her that the forces of chaos were at their weakest. This was the time to act!
The Fire Claws were close to what some inquisitors called “The Iron Empire.” Ten systems in a close group that all had been conquered and fortified by the Iron Warriors. Delshie believed all of them had been conquered by the same Warsmith. They were all domains of cursed Hellforge. No doubt that Hellforge had other bases and secret covens as well, but this was the most concentrated overt domain of his outside of the eye of terror.
Inquisitor Delshie pressed a rune in her vid-slate with anger. A holographic map of the Iron Empire projected above her desk. “Dalton 4 a forge world, Xirsos an artifact world, Glacia a world of feral ice warriors and the list goes on.” Deshie composed herself, exhaling slowly. Expressing rage would only hurt her. “The galactic vultures must be closing in on the Iron Empire, Even taking a single world from its garrisons would be a major prize.”
She pressed another rune on the vid-slate. A hologram projected of a chaos marine holding a huge black hammer. “Moloch, you’re the most likely to be his successor” Delshie then scanned through holograms of a few other chaos lords. Stopping on the file and hologram of Hellforge. “But who knows?”
Inquisitor Delshie shut off her vid-slate. She entered the ships hallway making her way back to the Fire Claw space marines in command. They needed to go into the Iron Empire. She would make them understand.
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Sergeant Coe dashed between buildings as the hiss of incoming fire barely missed him. Their landing zone on Dalton 4 came under attack before they had completed setting down. Coe had lost half his squad when a missile hit their lander. Behind him he heard one of the landers explode. They were in a deadly crossfire. One he would have to do his part in to get them out of it.
Sergeant Coe peaked out from his cover shooting his las pistol a few times toward an unseen enemy. “Stock!” he yelled. “Quit ducking and get that plasma gun over here.” The Sergeant pointed to a dead soldier out in the open with plasma gun still in hand. “He doesn’t need it anymore!”
Private Stock looked across the very wide street to where the sergeant was pointing. The plasma gun was a long way out there and there was no cover.
“d**n it Stock! Get me that plasma gun!” Sergeant Coe ordered as he let loose a couple more shots.
Private Stock ran! He ran faster than he ever had before. Pain exploded into this right shoulder and he saw a mist of red around him, but he kept running. Grabbing the plasma gun he dove behind a fairly intact wall. Crawling to the sergeant and bleeding from his wound he held out the plasma gun. “Got it sir.”
”d**n it boy!” the sergeant yelled. “Don’t just lie there start shooting!”
Although he felt faint Private Stock raised the plasma gun and killed two of the enemy in his next two shots.
“Boy you should be a sniper,” Sergeant Coe praised.
“I am a sniper,” laughed the private. He nodded to the Catachan sniper rifle on his back.
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To Be Continued
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Garou24
Chapter Master
Posts: 1,530
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Post by Garou24 on Mar 5, 2008 11:52:25 GMT -5
SGT Coe! He's our hero! Gonna take those Iron Warriors down to Zero!
More! This story is a fun read.
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Post by Lord Dacius on Mar 5, 2008 18:24:54 GMT -5
I'm rather impressed
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Post by "LAST FREAK'N DRAGON" on Mar 5, 2008 19:10:43 GMT -5
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McCommander
Sergeant
The Dreamiest
For every one that falls, two shall take his place!
Posts: 209
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Post by McCommander on Mar 6, 2008 8:11:32 GMT -5
So is this a group thread where everyone can join in like last time or is this something special that you are doing Tom?
(guess this means I'll have to get Delshie out of moth balls)
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Post by Catachan Colonel on Mar 7, 2008 10:04:48 GMT -5
They charged through the broken shell of a factory floor. Stopping about every ten steps to provide staggered covering fire for the rest. Usually the only one that hit anything was Private Stock but all the other gunfire made the enemy keep their heads down. They had made it a few blocks from the landing zone and so far they were pretty intact.
A burly man with thee mechanical eyes and arms more robot than man leaped out from behind a factory crate at Sergeant Coe knocking him to the ground. The ape of a mechanical man started battering the sergeant with arms stronger than he had ever been hit with. Then with a determined swing the Catachan plunged his Catachan fang combat knife into the belly of his assailant. Blood and intestines flowed out of the wound.
Looking around Sergeant took a breath before ordering his men to continue. He looked down at the body in front of him. Half man half robot. Even the guts that oozed out the hole in his stomach seemed to have circuitry. What the hell had done that to him? What had made him a robo-mutant? Coe just shook his head.
“We got a job to do boys! Get up to the roof and get rid of those snipers.” Sergeant Coe ordered his men as he began to run himself toward a staircase across the room.
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Colonel Norton stepped down on the landing zone after the second platoon took positions covering the streets and buildings. The clatter of A.P.C.s rolling off the ramp behind him assured the Colonel that he would have the fire power to secure a position in the capitol city. The next lander would be bringing down the heavy tanks.
The Catachan vessels had sent the friend code given to him by the warsmith. It had worked dozens of times before when the Catachans came to Dalton for re-supply. This time Iron Warrior Lieutenant Zhu threatened to kill each and every one of them if they dared to land. Calling himself now “Lord Zhu”, he claimed Dalton belonged to him.
As the Catachans descended they could see that many of the factories were burning. Lieutenant Zhu’s take over had not been peaceful. Large sections of the city were in ruins. The space dock seemed intact as did the Governor’s palace. The catachans priority would be munitions. They had come for some basilisks and they were d**n well going to get some. A group of Lightning Hellstrike fighters shot past the landers off to recon the area.
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Lord Odoacer stepped into the main bridge of his Slaughterer class cruiser “Holocaust.” From the main windows he could see the desert world in front of them. Nissin 3 was just outside the Iron Empire. It was a dusty speck of a world settled long ago by fuel prospectors. It was a forgotten place with only the most pathetic imperial garrison.
Lord Odoacer was a tall man. He was a head taller than most chaos marines. He was originally from the Iron Warriors Legion but had broken ranks with them to take command of a renegade chaos marine army called the Violators. He had taken the Violators from a band of dependant on daemon summoning to a Infantry based force to rival any chaos lord. He had attracted cult troops from some of the most successful war-bands that once plundered this galactic segmentum.
“My Lord,” spoke one of the command staff situated near a large panel of machine spirits. “A Captain Greyburn of the planets Imperial Guard garrison is ordering us to shut down our engines and surrender to his Emperor’s mercy.” The man looked to his lord for a reply.
The Holocaust was already within range of any planetary defense weaponry. If the world was to fire on them it already would have. “Let them listen to static.” Lord Odoacer dismissed. “Send the men to the landing craft.” Nissin 3 would be his staging world. There, he would gather his Violator chaos space marines. He would not miss out on his piece of the Iron Empire. If Hellforge was dead as the message said than there was not a single chaos lord as worthy as him. Not Moloch, Sextus or even Old Kemp were his equals.
Lord Odoacer walked out of the bridge heading for the ships teleportation banks. His guard of Chosen Terminators already awaited him there.
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Big Bone 'ead Cipolla trudged up to Sergeant Coe. Four other ogryns lumbered behind him looking around absent mindedly. Each of them was as big as a grisly bear and about as smart as one. They carried oversized hand cannons which were some sort of massive rotary shotgun. The ogryns usually used them as heavy clubs.
“Wot seems to be the problem Sergeant, uhm…yellow?” Big Bone 'ead Cipolla pointed at Sergeant Coes yellow shirt.
“We have some sort of cybernetic robot monsters in that building. Our plasma gun is out and laz guns don’t seem to have much of an effect. We called for back up, I guess we got you.” Sergeant Coe explained while keeping an eye on the building where the monsters were.
Big Bone 'ead Cipolla looked at the sergeant blankly. Sergeant Coe sighed, “Go kill the things in there!” The Sergeant pointed across at the building.
“No problem Sergeant Yellow, Lets go lads” Big Bone 'ead Cipolla and his ogryns raced across to the building in they were pointed at. They fired their “Ripper” shotguns all the while.
Once in the building there was bellowing and then a series of high-pitched squeals like the sounds of pigs crying out in pain. After a while the squeeling and bellowing stopped. Sergeant Coe watched as the five ogryns came back out of the building. They were covered in lacerations and gallons of yellow puss.
“All clear Segeant yellow!”
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To Be Continued
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Post by Catachan Colonel on Mar 9, 2008 8:39:39 GMT -5
The Landing zone was secure. Infantry and tanks had taken defensive positions. The advance was on a halt until additional supplies were ferried down from the transport ships. Sergeant Coe took the time to wash himself up and put on a fresh yellow shirt. It was good to have the blood of the mutants off of him. He felt human again a bit more like a proud soldier. Clean, he traded his empty las-pistol magazines for a set of fully charged. And checked that his blade was clean and ready.
Private Hobin ran up to his sergeant. He carried a bandolier of Krak grenades handing them to the sergeant when the two were together. “Hope you are rested enough Sergeant. We have orders to report to Lieutenant Arnold for special mission orders.”
Sergeant Coe strapped the bandolier of anti-tank grenades across his back. There would be no rest for his team he guessed. He waved to the rest of his squad to join up with him. Private Stock joined up too. It would be good to have a sharpshooter with them. Stocks sniper rifle was missing but it looked like he had some fresh ammunition for the plasma rifle. There were nine of them in all. Sergeant Coe picked up a few soldiers from different squads who had been mauled in the initial landings.
The group made their way to a command tent that was just off of the landing site. There was a large table covered in papers and his platoons command team surrounded a very large map. His squad entered the tent and then stood at attention ready for orders. He was curious why none of the platoons other squads were rallying here.
“At ease men!” ordered Lieutenant Arnold. “Listen up boys we have special orders for you.” The lieutenant looked at his maps without looking at any of his soldiers. He looked frustrated as if contemplating an impossible task. “We have been ordered underground boys.” The lieutenant said with some disappointment in his voice.
Sergeant Coe and the rest of his unit struggled to hold in their displeasure. They all knew that being ordered underground was one of the worst of all duties. It meant that they would be “sewer rats” they would be attempting to get behind enemy lines through the muck and grime of the underground sewers. Sergeant Coe looked down at his fresh clean yellow shirt with disappointment.
“Your target will be an enemy artillery battery located here.” Lieutenant Arnold pointed to a spot on the map on the table. “No room for partial credit here boys you must destroy all three earth-shaker cannons before we can send up our armored spearhead. Grab a vox-caster and radio in when your designated targets are all clear.” The lieutenant handed a data slate containing mission details to Sergeant Coe. “Good luck men, dismissed.”
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To be continued
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Post by "LAST FREAK'N DRAGON" on Mar 9, 2008 19:29:08 GMT -5
... ---...
...---...
...---...
"A YA, CO'L NEL CATACH'O________________STOP LARGE'R SHIPISH LANDER NER BY___________STOP
NIDS, DR' NIDS--------350 milese southr west DR' LAND____STOP
...---...
PINN DR' DOWN, AMO LOW__________________STOP
BONE'EAD OUT!
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