Dropship: Prelude to Death

FireFro · Post by **FireFro** » Tue Jan 22, 2002 9:01 am

Great stuff Bug. Your continuing ToB pimpage never fails to impress. Some of the scenes here are great (I really liked the drop down), and I love the little touches you've thrown in (RJ's earring, very cool idea). Your inspiring me to get off my butt and write to. Keep it up. We need more, and hurry, the tension is killing me. XMEN|FireFro[DTM]

Ambush Bug · Post by **Ambush Bug** » Wed Feb 20, 2002 12:06 pm

I'm still working on a couple of fine points in the story, but I've got a nice little intermission for you all to curl up with. Nothing like a little political backstabbing to spice things up.... -----  Some days earlier... &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It really was amazing how far underground she was. Her race was not known for burrowing into the earth, for they were the kind that liked to stand up and fight their enemies face-to-face. Cowering in underground chambers and tunnels was considered craven, and was something that could get a reaver ripped to pieces by his own squad. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp But this place was different. It was  meant to be a fortress, for it was nothing less than the Horde’s most valuable research station, tucked on an inhospitable planet far from everything. Before she had come to run things, the entire complex was above-ground and lightly defended. Under her iron fist, things changed quickly--tunnels and caverns were dug, turrets emplaced and hidden, weapons stored, ammunition stockpiled, equipment repaired, and assignments given. For a research complex, it was almost as impregnable as a homeworld fortress. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It had to be. Here, some of the Horde’s most valuable and secret research took place--advanced genetics, armor design, shielding improvement, HERC weaponry--and it would not do for the complex to fall to a Slaver attack. It was not a likely occurrence. A hardened and hidden turret web extended for some twelve kilometers in every direction from the complex. This web was tasked with shooting down any vehicles or dropships that got into range. Defending the ground was not so much of a concern, for the terrain on this planet, especially around the complex, redefined the word ‘impassable’. Even hardshells were pressed to make more than a few kilometers in a day. The surrounding area looked as if some long-ago pagan god had simply sunk his hand into the soil and squeezed, breaking huge plates of bedrock into jagged pieces that littered the area. There were no flat places, save for what she had ordered carved out of the rock for roads. Everything was either on an angle or at some point or junction. The Slavers could march an entire army of hardshell troops here and they would die on the rocks. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp And yet, tucked inside the mightiest fortress she’d ever had the pleasure of commanding, Render-of-Hearts felt fear crawling through her gut. It was not the fear of an imminent Slaver attack, nor the fear of one of the critical lab experiments going wrong, but a fear for herself, for her position. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp She hid it well, and even as she sat alone in her overwatch room, she did not show it externally. The dark shadows around her helped--only her hands could be seen as she steepled them in front of her face. The rest of her was lost in the darkness and the hard depths of her command chair. Even the bright rings of an Administrator could not be seen as they encircled the tips of her horns. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Mortok. It all came down to him. What he had found was amazing, to say the least. That much she could not deny, and neither could anyone else. It was too plain on the shaky footage he’d brought back. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp His discovery was not the cause of her fear. Instead, his plan for the use of it was. He’d come to her to discuss the future of the captured warriors, how it might be possible to acquire a large number of them in a very short time. At the time, it had sounded like an excellent plan to her, and she had approved it and given him the resources to execute it, pending the successful deployment of the fifty warriors he had in his possession. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Only now did she sense what he was really aiming for--her position. When the test was successful and the secondary plan underway, he would step forward and claim the credit for it all. He would be able to do it, too, for she had not thought to make recordings of their talks together. The Inquisitors would see that he had outwitted her, come up with better resources than she, and would elevate Mortok to the position of Administrator. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp That she would lose the position (and possibly her life) didn’t make her angry. What Mortok would do to the research complex did. He was a powerful warrior, and a cunning one (if a little egotistical) but he was not an administrator. He didn’t have the political finesse to make sure the complex remained in favor with the Horde, didn’t have the skills to keep the researchers at work, and didn’t have the savvy to deal with the demands of the various political factions within the Horde. His ham-fisted approach would quickly drive the complex into uselessness. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Damnation! She would have him killed, but he was too far away and none of the reavers with him were up to the task. Krayek was too small, and the vatsats were insignificant. There was no chance she could make the captured warriors kill him, either, for she needed them above all else. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp What was she to do? Mortok was already on his way to the test planet, and from what she knew, there was no chance of his test failing. The Slavers defending the targeted holdfast were far from the war, lax in their training. The captured warriors would rip them to shreds, and with them, her chances of a long career. Once Mortok started the second phase of the plan-- &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Her eyes widened in the dark as an idea came to her suddenly. She removed her feet from the desk and sat up straight, mind churning through the possibility that had just occurred to her. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Suppose... suppose Mortok wasn’t the one that initiated the second phase of the plan? What if  she was the one that ordered it,  before the test results came in? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It would appear a bold and overconfident move on her part... but it would also reduce Mortok’s role in the scheme of things to that of a runner, a bit player sent out only to perform a small test. Would the great members of the Horde award him her position if they saw him as such? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp She didn’t think so. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp By the Bloodsoul... if she failed, her life  would be forfeit for certain. If she failed, her position would be irrelevant anyway, just as if she simply sat back and let things proceed without intervention. If she wanted to keep her rank, she would have to pre-empt Mortok, and she would have to do it now. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp She reached for a datapad and began looking through her personal notes as well as the rosters of available reavers. She would need quite a few warriors and ships to pull this off, and she would have to call in some favors to make it work... but this situation was just the thing for spending favors. She would owe more than a few of the Horde’s high-and-mighty favors in return, which she would be glad to fulfill if she was still around to do so. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Fifteen planets, thirty warriors per planet, plus supporting vatsats and ships and pilots. A little over five hundred warriors and crew. It would take a day to get them all together, but she thought that wouldn’t be a problem. With a little luck, they would reach their objectives just before Mortok did, and quite possibly  complete their objectives before him as well. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Wouldn’t  that be a surprise? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp She grinned in the darkness, her face lit only by the soft glow of her datapad. <img src=http://home.earthlink.net/~ambushbugdtm/BugSig.jpg align=LEFT> Member: DTM, XMEN Professional Tank Driver Card-carrying Base-Cracker Ugly Son-Of-A-Gun Bug's Tank Bumper Sticker: "If you can read this, you're already street pizza."

AngelFlayer · Post by **AngelFlayer** » Thu Feb 21, 2002 12:55 pm

I'm going to have to ask you to stop being so entertaining, I'm trying to get some work done here... I saw that you mentioned tribesroleplayers.com somewhere back there. One of our boys, Snuf, is responsible for something involving Tribesrolerplayers or the history of Tribes or whatnot, I dunno, but he's in some way invovled. I just through that if you haven't already that you might want to speak with him.

Killbert DTM · Post by **Killbert DTM** » Thu Feb 21, 2002 1:54 pm

Speaking of people involved in Tribes...what is Crusader up to these days? I remember reading some time ago that he was thinking of putting another company together.  (AF, he was the head art honcho for the development team that did Tribes 2 and a member of the XMEN....don't know what his title was....did I mention that AF draws dead things! <img src=http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/im ... /smile.gif ALT=":)"> ) <img src=http://www3.nf.sympatico.ca/p.king/avatar.gif> <a href=http://ov.tribes-universe.com>=oV=</a> - Omnino Victoria: Together Victorious <a href=http://www.dragontalonmercs.com>DTM</a> - Dragon Talon Mercenaries: A guild dedicated to honourable gaming

Ambush Bug · Post by **Ambush Bug** » Thu Feb 21, 2002 2:26 pm

I'd love to talk to the TR guys, but I can't, really. I've broken one of Hex's Cardinal Rules--"No Alien Races". He and I had a talk about it some years ago, and I couldn't convince him on the subject--therefore, I keep the publishing of this story here on a local board so the TR guys won't have to deal with the alterations in the SS storyline I've made. <img src=http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/im ... /happy.gif ALT=":D"> (If you haven't seen any of those yet, don't worry... you will.) If you wanna direct 'em here to give it a read, then by all means, do so. <img src=http://home.earthlink.net/~ambushbugdtm/BugSig.jpg align=LEFT> Member: DTM, XMEN Professional Tank Driver Card-carrying Base-Cracker Ugly Son-Of-A-Gun Bug's Tank Bumper Sticker: "If you can read this, you're already street pizza."

AngelFlayer · Post by **AngelFlayer** » Thu Feb 21, 2002 3:03 pm

I'll point Snuf in this direction, and if he doesn't go I may just kill him on your behalf. Yay dead things! Bring on the corpses baby! Oh yeah

Snuf · Post by **Snuf** » Sat Feb 23, 2002 1:56 am

Oy, vey. I see I got a lot of reading to do <img src=http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/im ... s/wink.gif ALT=";)"> . AB, just a note, there are sections at TRP where "non-cannon" stories are welcomed, (ie the Tales of Battle Forum there) so if you want more feedback from that group, thats the perfect place to put it. I'll post my thoughts once I wade through it all, promise <img src=http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/im ... s/wink.gif ALT=";)"> KB, was Crusader maybe involved with Hex in forming Tesseraction games? I can't remember, but I think one of the art people from Dynamix was on the roster... <img border="0" src="http://members.shaw.ca/snuf/images/Snuf.jpg" width="388" height="154">

AngelFlayer · Post by **AngelFlayer** » Sat Feb 23, 2002 2:05 am

Actually I had mentioned to KB that I really liked the artwork from Tribes, especially the Royo ones (because Royo rocks!) I would greatly appreciate any links or anything for Tribes art. Thanks KB, but I'm still gonna kill you.

Killbert DTM · Post by **Killbert DTM** » Sat Feb 23, 2002 8:59 am

Bring it AF! <img src=http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/im ... /smile.gif ALT=":)"> Snuf, I don't know....can you XMEN folks shed some light on what Crusader is doing now? <img src=http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/im ... /smile.gif ALT=":)"> <img src=http://www3.nf.sympatico.ca/p.king/avatar.gif> <a href=http://ov.tribes-universe.com>=oV=</a> - Omnino Victoria: Together Victorious <a href=http://www.dragontalonmercs.com>DTM</a> - Dragon Talon Mercenaries: A guild dedicated to honourable gaming

XMEN Ashaman DTM · Post by **XMEN Ashaman DTM** » Sat Feb 23, 2002 2:03 pm

He's...doing something. He's probably going to the bathroom, exercising, talking to his wife, and eating lunch. Though not in that order, and not all at once. <img src=http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/im ... s/wink.gif ALT=";)"> Actually, we haven't heard anything that I know of. Then again, I've been out of the loop for a bit due to school. <img src=http://www.xmenclan.org/avatars/ashaman2.jpg width=150 align=left> <left><a href=http://www.dragontalonmercs.com>Dragon Talon Mercenary</a> <a href=http://www.xmenclan.org>Member of the XMEN</a> Have a Nice Day! "Politics, war, martial arts; these are tools to bend the universe to your will."</left>

XMEN Ashaman DTM · Post by **XMEN Ashaman DTM** » Sat Feb 23, 2002 3:04 pm

And AB: I like your story. <img src=http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/im ... /happy.gif ALT=":D"> <img src=http://www.xmenclan.org/avatars/ashaman2.jpg width=150 align=left> <left><a href=http://www.dragontalonmercs.com>Dragon Talon Mercenary</a> <a href=http://www.xmenclan.org>Member of the XMEN</a> Have a Nice Day! "Politics, war, martial arts; these are tools to bend the universe to your will."</left>

Ambush Bug · Post by **Ambush Bug** » Wed Apr 03, 2002 1:44 am

Guns... ammo...  action! Yar, been a while since I updated. Never fear! Here is another segment! ------- Deep in the bowels of the  Maelstrom, RJ slept soundly in his bunk. He'd taken the air-controller's advice and visited the Ornery Pigeon, both to get a few good drinks and to see what kind of information he could dig up. Information, unfortunately, was scarce, but drinks were not. RJ managed to stagger back to the  Maelstrom some hours ago and collapse into his bunk, where his sleep was peaceful and dreamless. Outside, a dull roar washed over the area, and he stirred in his sleep, mumbling softly. Moments later, a huge explosion sent waves of sound through the ship as the shockwave rocked it gently on its landing struts. RJ came awake instantly at the motion of the ship, sitting bolt upright in bed, looking around in the dark. "Huh!" he grunted, looking around in the dark. What was that? There was another explosion, and this time he heard it clearly. Without fumbling for the lights, he jumped out of bed and rushed through the door and down the main hall. Seconds later, he was in the captain's chair and looking out the main viewscreens. What he saw made him blink in the surprise. There, not a hundred meters from the city's main gate, a familiar-looking B-E dropship sat squatly on the ground, its loading ramps down. The huge assault blasters mounted on the chin of the ship were still firing at the gate, monstrous green projectiles streaking through the darkness. The gate collapsed under this final volley, debris flying through the air, some of it red-hot and trailing smoke. The city's turrets, mounted on the walls, were just now coming on line. He couldn't see them clearly in the gloom, but he could see flashes of light as the huge weapons swivelled and fired on unseen targets in front of the dropship. "This has  got be a bad dream," he told himself. A hard pinch to his cheek later, he knew it was not. The absolute last place he wanted to be was anywhere  near a major assault like this. He thought he might bring up the freighter online and bug out, but then quickly realized the  Maelstrom was well in range of the dropship's blasters. He might be able to take two or three hits without losing it, but given the freighter's sluggishness, he figured the crew of the dropship would hit him many more times than that before he got out of range. Better to play dead then, and hope they thought it was empty and unmanned. But who was attacking? He knew the Blood Eagle were often regarded as butchers, but this was utterly beyond them. Whomever was attacking was violating almost every code of combat--dropping straight onto the city instead of defeating the outer defenses first was the one that came immediately to mind. Butchers or not, the B-E were sticklers for their honor, and any pennant caught doing something like this would be hunted down. Frowning, RJ flipped on the  Maelstrom's night-vision optiks and got a closer look at the ship. He couldn't make out a lot of detail as all the turret- and weapons-fire caused a lot of glare on the viewscreen, but he could at least tell there were warriors coming out of the ship and heading straight for what was left of the main gates. He panned the screen around towards the loading ramp. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the shape at the bottom of the ramp, waving its arms as if directing the other warriors. He could see little of it, but he could easily see the horns sprouting from its head and the angular shoulder plates of its armor.  BioDerms. That did it for him. He was getting in his hardshell...  now. Sirus and Bug were only a click or two from the landing pads now, though they were still surrounded by trees on every side. They still ran (or jetted, in Red's case) at full tilt, but each had his weapon out and ready. The antiaircraft turret fire they'd seen when they began their run had ended very quickly, less than thirty seconds after it started. Whether this was because the turrets had been destroyed or their target had gone out of their firing arcs was unknown. The faint sound of explosions had come to them a few kilometers back, and minutes after that, they saw that the soft glow of the city lights on the horizon abruptly disappear. Whatever was going on, someone had either destroyed or turned off the city's power grid. A soft beeping in Red's ear made him screech to a halt and bring up his armor's command circuit interface. Bug went on for a few meters before noticing and stopping himself. "What's wrong, Red?" Bug asked, looking around warily. All he got in return was a huge smile. "RJ's all right!" he exclaimed, pointing at the wrist display on his armor. "I just got notifcation through the CC that his armor powered up." "Excellent! .... but doesn't that transmission reveal our presence?" "Too short for that, Bug. It's a little something me and Birt cooked up a few months back for the DTM's IFF system. It's a 'stealth' version of our armors' IFF tracking system, one that uses burst transmissions that look like nothing more than background radiation. There isn't enough bandwidth for voice, text, or map data, but for a SpecOps squad working deep behind enemy lines, it sure makes the job of keeping track of one's buddies a lot easier." "Did it tell you where he is?" "No, not enough bandwidth for telemetry.  But, since this thing's only got a two-click range, it's a safe bet he's still somewhere on the landing pads, given our proximity to them." Red grinned, pleased with himself. "I thank the gods you're with the DTM and not working for someone else, Sirus. Your tinkering never ceases to impress." Bug clacked his mandibles together in something resembling applause. "Thanks, bud." "Let's get going. From what I remember of the planetary maps, we should have adequate forest cover all the way to the edge of the landing pads." He turned and started off again, Sirus right behind him. They reached the treeline a couple of minutes later. What they saw made them stop and cover. The  Maelstrom was close by, a hulking mass of metal in the dark. It was backlit by the glow of burning houses. The entire residential complex around the front half of the city walls was in flames. A B-E dropship could be seen parked right in the middle of the chaos, the surrounding flames lighting it up well enough for both of them to see the many dents and scars in its hull. From the looks of things, it had landed right there, plowing through several homes in the process. "They dropped right on the city!" Bug snarled quietly. "Who the hell would do that?" "Damned if I know, Bug. Let's get to the  Maelstrom." The two of them maneuvered to put the freighter between themselves and the d-ship, then carefully darted out from under the treeline. Within a few seconds, they were in the freighter's shadow. " psst!" Sirus almost jumped, turned and fired at the voice, but Bug put a hand on the barrel of his plascannon and forced it down. When Red looked closely, he saw the slim form of RJ crouched in the half-open loading doors. "Damn, RJ, you about got yourself barbecued there," he grunted. "What else was I going to do, open up a channel on the local CC and let everyone know we're here? Get in here, you two, before we're seen." He turned and disappeared into the shadow of the main bay. “So what’s the situation?” Bug asked when they were inside. “ Bad.” Though the ship’s doors were closed, and he was fully suited up, RJ clutched his blaster carbine as if he was making a last stand. “Don’t know how many there were, but there were a  lot.” “Of what?” Bug prodded. “Warriors! I saw 'em just  swarm the place!” “Wait, how’d they get through the main gates? I thought those would be closed.” “Somebody on that dropship just blasted ‘em to piece with the ship’s weaponry, right as they came in.” “...doesn’t sound like tribals to me...” Sirus mused. Tribal honor codes prevented warriors from just dropping straight onto a city--instead, they had to defeat the outer perimeter of defenses first. The rule was in place for the sole reason that without it, no city would ever be safe. “It wasn’t!” RJ said. “I was watching--well, sort of.” “Sort of?” “Whatever they used to blow open the gates knocked me straight out of bed. I was, uh, sleeping off some brews.” RJ paused, wondering if either of his friends would chastise him for carousing out so early. Sirus only raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Bug, as usual, was impossible for him to read. Neither of them said anything about it, and so he continued. “When I got to the bridge, I checked it all out with the ship’s viewers. I couldn’t get any detail on the warriors--they were too damn fast to track--but I saw something else--a  BioDerm.” This got a reaction. Sirus cursed softly, which RJ halfway expected. Ambush, however, reared up to his full height and hissed loud enough to make RJ’s hardshell kick in its aural protection routine. “--sssss! They dare to attack  here?!” “Geez! Bug! Calm down!” Sirus waved his hands placatingly at his friend. Ambush stopped his outburst, but he continued to tremble with rage. “I know you hate the ‘Derms--hell, just about everybody does! But you can’t go off half-cocked!” “And we are outnumbered, if you hadn’t noticed...” RJ put in quietly. “What are we going to do, just charge in there and take ‘em all out?” Ambush shook his head. “...sorry. My hatred got the best of me for a moment there. But we can’t just leave. We don’t even know what’s going on.” “Oh, I agree with that, Bug. We certainly can’t leave, but we can’t just go in with guns blazing.” “Yeah, considering we only have two guns to blaze with,” RJ added. “We can, however, get in and find out what happened, and then get a message out to any tribes in the area. It’s the least we can do.” “Risky...” Sirus mused. “Yes, but I don’t see any other options. We can’t stay in the ship--they’ll come out and enter it soon enough, I think.” “I’m up for it, then.” RJ said. “Sirus?” “No complaints here, RJ.” “All right then,” Bug said. “Let’s get on the bounce.” When Ambush first joined the DTM as an applicant, finding a place for him had been difficult. What was one to do with a seven-foot insect warrior? And how does one integrate him into the human forces he is a part of? The latter question was, remarkably enough, easier solved than the first. Mercs are, by and large, able to get used to just about anything. The introduction of a non-human member of their ranks, though it caused some puzzlement (and not a few clashes) quickly became ‘normal’ enough for the mercs to handle without batting an eye. It certainly was easier to handle than combat on a lonely and cold Starwolf planet, that was for certain. After a few weeks, it was discovered that Bug had more than a passing familiarity with the arts of stealth and close-combat. Though his skills with ranged weapons were mediocre at the beginning, not a single merc had it in him to best him at hand-to-hand. Part of this was due to his raw speed, but much of it was due to his long experience on his homeworld, where close-quarters combat was the norm and a missed block or dodge was death. He had no martial-arts training to speak of, at least none that had an actual name. He was, however, able to quickly and easily adapt his own style with the accepted forms taught on Fenecia, and from there it was a short jump to instructing. The mercs found him a brutal teacher, and even through the protective layers of their hardshells, many went to their barracks at the end of the day with bruises and pressure-cuts. But all gained from it, even Bug, for his students took every opportunity to surprise him. Not many knew he was an assassin before his time with the DTM. His experience in getting into and out of ‘the damndest places’, as one merc put it, served him well. It was not long before he was one of the squad leaders of the ‘base cracking’ crew, those fellows tasked with either sneaking or battering their way into a base, usually to destroy generators or key objectives. The fact that he took great pains to get his squad out alive was not lost on his fellow mercs, and they respected him for it, even if they could not understand him very well. This was the primary reason Bug took point as he, RJ, and Sirus made their way towards the walls of Cible. Sirus, who’d been with Bug on almost all of his missions, knew that Bug had an instinctive grasp on the tricky task of getting into a place unseen... and alive. RJ, who was more experienced in social engineering (and was wearing the lightest armor of the three) was better at fire-support in this situation, and so he lagged a bit behind his friends, ready with his carbine. Bug gave over his plascannon to Sirus. From RJ’s description of the attacking warriors, he knew he’d be better off with his staff. Sirus was also a much better shot than he, and though Bug favored the plascannon above almost all of the other hardshell weapons, he knew he was not good enough with it for this. He also tended to overuse ammunition, and there were only forty rounds in the containment bottle--Sirus would be able to make better use of those rounds. They crept across the blank expanse of the landing pads, hoping against hope that the invaders hadn’t posted watchers on the walls. They could see none, and they were not challenged at all. The rapidly-darkening night enveloped them wholly, their dark armor disappearing into the broken shadows at the base of the wall. RJ pointed them towards a side gate in the wall, the one he’d used after clearing Port Authority. It was well-lit and had guard posts to either side. The posts were empty. They looked to have been abandoned in a hurry, for there were datapads and other such items scattered about. The gate between the posts stood open, and it beckoned to the three mercs with its shadows. “For a town that’s getting thrashed by warriors, this place is  way too quiet,” RJ muttered. “You’d think we would have heard more from the local garrison.” “Never mind that. Let’s get into the shadows before we are seen.” Bug forged through the gate, staff at the ready, his angular form melting into the darkness beyond. The others followed. As soon as they got through the gate, RJ took a moment to jet quietly up to the roof of the first building he found, the better to provide covering fire. He crept along carefully, trying not to dislodge anything on the roof that might make noise. He was forced, as was Sirus, to turn on his light-amp optiks, for the city was completely without illumination. Evidently, the attackers had gone for the city power supply right off the bat. The street that stretched out before them was empty. They saw darkened buildings, open doors, but no people of any kind. One of the nearby buildings looked to be a barracks of some kind--not surprising, given its proximity to the Port Authority. Bug waved them over toward the door, and motioned that Sirus should cover him as he went inside. Red nodded, and got a firmer grasp on his plascannon. The door was plenty large enough for Bug to get through, for it was made to accomodate even the largest of hardshells. Inside though, it was too small for him to use his staff effectively, so he exhanged it for the B-E  katar on his harness. He saw rows of bunks stretching the distance of the barracks, complete with spacious trunks at the foot of each. At the very back was a single inventory, though it was dark and unpowered. He was surprised that the garrison hadn’t supplied a backup generator for it, as was standard practice on Fenecia. Ignoring it, for it was useless to he and the others, he went down the rows, yanking open the trunks and opening the weapons lockers he found at the back end. As he’d surmised on the way to the city, there were plenty of weapons to use. He quietly called Sirus and RJ into the barracks to look through the stash. There was plenty to go around. As usual, Bug mounted a shield pack and an assortment of weapons on his person, including a Wrath cannon, just in case. It massed a ton (though it weighed less thanks to implanted T-grav nodes), but having it on his harness made him feel more at ease. Sirus also went for a shield pack, for he’d be right up close to Bug, and was certain to be in the thick of things. He also picked up a grenade launcher, one of his favorite weapons for close combat, along with a shocklance. It wouldn’t replace Bug’s  kopesh, but it was a handy thing to hang on his hardshell. RJ found one of the new cloak packs and a pack of flashbangs to his liking. He also procured a spinfusor and a chaingun--those were ‘mobility’ weapons, and out of the three, he had the most on-the-ground speed to use. Now suitably equipped, they left the barracks and continued further into the city. It wasn’t long before things began to change. The streets, empty and clear of any sign of citizens or invaders, began to become cluttered with debris. Nearby buildings stood open, their doors kicked down or ripped off their tracks. Broken shipping crates littered the street, along with heavily-damaged furniture and various other household items. Then they saw the first body. It was almost lost in the shadows of a partially destroyed wall. Sirus, who spotted it first, pointed it out to the others. While Bug and RJ covered him, he went to get a better look. Examination was difficult with just light-amp gear, but he got enough details to suit him. What he saw wasn’t pretty by any means, but it told him what he wanted to know. The body was that of a young man. He appeared to be a member of the local authorities, judging from the softshell armor he wore. His cold hands clutched a small blaster pistol--rigor mortis had locked his fingers around the grip. Sirus saw that the charge indicator on the pistol was empty--before the man had died, he’d evidently emptied the pistol into whatever attacked him. Not that it had done any good, for there was no other body around him. Red was curious about the manner of the young man’s death, for he could see no marks on him. But, as he rolled the body over, the mans arms shifted enough for Sirus to see that there was a ragged hole punched through the center of his chest. The armor over his chest was cracked deeply around the edges of the hole as if the manner of death had been some massive impact. It sure looked as if someone in a hardshell had simply run a fist through the poor fellow, and that was precisely what Sirus concluded. It was not an uncommon thing to see in battle, either; hardshells made a man so strong that even a single blow could be this devestating. It was brutal, though. Just like a BioDerm. Red grimaced. “Poor scroff got a powered fist through the chest, looks like,” he told the others quietly. “The ‘Derms sure like their grisly killings.” Ambush hissed quietly, and RJ said nothing. They’d seen it before, many times. That didn’t make it any less cruel. “All right, form up again,” Bug ordered softly. “Where there are bodies, there are killers.” Without further word, they continued their walk. It was only a few dozen meters before they came to an archway. RJ identified it as the one that led to a large open-market area. The smell hit them first, cutting right through RJ and Red’s filters. Ambush physically recoiled from it. “I have not smelled such death in...” he began, but then he got a look through the arch. Had it been possible for him to gasp, he would have--the sound that came out of his was a single soft click of his mandibles. “Gods below...” he said almost too quietly to hear. The market area was almost completely carpeted in bodies. Men and women, in hardshells and out, lay in various states on the stahlplast. Dried blood covered what parts of the ground that weren’t hidden by bodies. The gore was almost too much to take in, even for the three of them--they’d seen much in their years as warriors, but this was just too much. Though they were appalled at the death that lay before them, the scene seemed ‘off’ for some reason. It was RJ who picked up on it first, and that was mostly due to his elevated position. “There aren’t any blast-craters,” he said, surveying the market, spinfusor at the ready. “What?” Sirus turned to look at him. “No blast craters, Red. There weren’t any explosive weapons used here.” He pointed to the walls of the marketplace. “Plenty of blaster marks and a few flechette tracks from a chaingun or two, but no heavy weapons.” As Red and Ambush looked over the bodies as well as the walls, RJ’s conclusion made more sense. Almost all of the bodies were intact--in fact, most of them were in remarkably good condition, save for one or two horrendous-looking torso wounds. That was not the usual way bodies looked when hit by powerful hardshell weapons--most bodies weren’t even bodies after such an encounter. As the mercs put it, ‘pink mist’ was the kindest term one could use for such a description. “This does not seem like a typical attack from the Slonn,” Ambush said. “I would expect more gore--they revel in it.” “Whoever did this was powerful--they even did the same thing to the hardshell troops.” Sirus pointed to a group of warriors near the opposite archway. From the looks, they had made a stand, and paid for it. Just like the other dead, they too bore wounds from powerful physical blows aimed at the weak spots in their armor. “Guys, I don’t know about you, but I think it’s about time we got the hell out of here,” RJ said, his voice tense with nerves. “The pucker-factor of this place just went up by about twenty notches by my count.” Ambush nodded. “I am in agreement--from what I see here, we stand no chance against these attackers. We must bring reinf--“ Bug’s words stopped harshly, and he snapped around to stare directly at the opposite arch. He hissed quietly, then spat out some curse neither of his friends could recognize. “We’ve been spotted.” All three of them heard the soft sound of many feet coming from the arch; it seemed as if a group of warriors was heading down the street directly towards them. None of them, though, could see anything, even through their optiks. The sound grew in volume rapidly, became flatter as the onrushing warriors got closer. “Damn, we don’t even have time to run...” Sirus breathed, leveling his plascannon at the archway. He had no more completed his sentence when the warriors came out of the arch at a full run. His first reaction was shock, even though his battle-training screamed at him to pull the trigger and began backing away. There, barely visible in the starlight as they paused for a moment to assess the situation, stood four insect warriors. They looked so much like Ambush that for a moment, he wondered if he was seeing things. From the purple compound eyes, to their battered olive-green carpaces, and even to the swords and push-daggers they carried, they were almost as exact duplicates of his friend. Bug’s next words, at a roar that surprised Sirus in its volume, snapped him out of it. “  KILL THEM! NOW!!” Ambush wasted no time with further commands. In a single motion, he pulled a throwing wedge from his harness and hurled it at the lead warrior. The blade whizzed across the market and thudded deep into the right eye of the warrior, which screamed shrilly and began thrashing its arms about, trying to pull the blade out. The other three charged at the same moment, going for each of the three mercs separately. RJ, from his vantage point, let loose with a disk at the feet of the first charging warrior. To his complete surprise, it jumped clean over the whizzing projectile, a ten-meter bound that was over so quickly he would have missed it if he blinked. It changed direction and barreled for the base of the wall he was standing on. He swore loudly and lined up another shot. He pulled the trigger again, leading it this time. It was not going to surprise him aga-- He dodged to the left only barely in time. The warrior made another leap, bounding the five meters to the top of the wall in the blink of an eye. It lashed out with its sword as he dove off the wall, the blade scraping across his shoulder pauldron, sending sparks flying. He did a flip and landed on his feet, turning around to see the warrior as it leaped over the wall  again, coming directly for him. RJ opened the throttle on his jets all the way, and he shot upwards out of way just as the warrior landed where he’d been standing. It hissed loudly and made a standing leap straight up to catch him. He pulled the trigger of his spinfusor again. The warrior, unable to change direction in mid-leap, took it full in the face, and it was battered to the ground, horribly mangled. It was so close, though, that RJ was bodily thrown upwards, the shields around his leg-armor blasted to nothingness. The second warrior went for Sirus, making huge bounds across the marketplace, its sword at the ready. Sirus had enough time to realize that his plascannon wasn’t going to be fast enough to hit it--he’d seen RJ’s first shot miss cleanly. He dropped it and drew both Bug’s  kopesh and his shocklance--he’d sparred with Bug enough to know that he’d have to use two weapons, one to hit with and the other to block with. In a heartbeat, it was on him. Red managed to block the first swing of the insect’s sword, but it connected with its other hand, open-handing him square in the chest. The blow wasn’t nearly as strong as one from Ambush, but it was more than enough throw him off balance. He toppled backwards, landing squarely on his ass. He looked up and saw the warrior preparing a downward thrust meant to skewer him. Sirus triggered his jets in pure reflex--as he was laying almost flat on his back, the thrust sent his scooting along the stahlplast market floor. The warrior’s blade thunked into the ground between his knees as he scuttered away from it. It let go of the weapon, which was stuck into the ground, and leaped forwards, aiming to impale him with its forearm blades. Red put up the kopesh and managed to entangle one of the warriors forearm blades with it. He grunted with the effort, for the warrior was pressing against the blade fiercely trying to get at him. It slashed at him with its free hand, the talons raking across his chestplate, leaving tracks in the metal. Still using the kopesh to keep it at bay, Sirus brought his shocklance up with his other hand and aimed it at the insect’s chest. He pulled the trigger, and the bright spear of electric death snapped out and shattered the warrior’s thorax. Dark blood gushed across Sirus in a fountain, and he was momentarily blinded as it covered his faceplate. The last warrior wasted no time in going after Ambush. It saw an opponent it was familiar with--a warrior from another hive--and screamed a hissing war-cry as it bounded at him. It didn’t bother with its sword, but instead went straight in bare-handed. Though Ambush was fast, this warrior almost equaled him in speed, and it collided with him, fists flailing. The two were a whirlwind of blows--when the warrior connected, there was a gonging sound as Bug’s armor plate shivered under the impact. The warrior changed tactics and grabbed Bug’s forearm, trying to pull him off-balance. Ambush knew this trick, though, and whipped his arm forwards quickly, his reinforced arm-blade severing some of the warrior’s fingers in the process. It hissed at him and landed a square blow to Bug’s head, stunning him for a moment. It landed two more before Bug recoved, but when he did, he lashed out and grabbed one of its arms with both hands. With a savage twisting motion, he broke it at the elbow, then let go and let loose with a powerful backhanded swing of his left arm that drove the point of his arm-blade straight into the joint of the warrior’s neck. It screamed once more and collapsed, limbs jittering in its death-throes. Ambush turned to face the warrior he’d pegged with his throwing wedge. In the few seconds of combat that had ensued, it had removed the wedge. It stood there for a moment, surveying the scene with its remaining eye, then turned and bolted back through the archway. Ambush whipped out the chaingun he’d picked up in the barracks and let loose with a burst of flechettes down the street. The warrior staggered as a few of the explosive flechettes struck it in the back, but it continued bounding away at full speed. Within seconds, it was out of sight and out of range. “Blast and damnation!” Bug swore. “One of them got away!” He turned to look at his fellow mercs, not entirely sure what had happened with them. The brawl with his lookalike had kept him busy. Sirus, he saw, sat at the foot of one of the warriors. Its thorax was completely shattered, and Red was covered in its purple blood. RJ was slumped against one of the market stalls, his lower body armor scorched. A messy pile of broken chitin still smoked at the edge of the marketplace, marking the place of death for the warrior that had attacked the mercenary infiltrator. “Are you two all right?” he asked, going first to Sirus and pulling him to his feet. Sirus swiped his hands at his faceplate, getting most of the blood out of his way on the first try. “Damn, these things bleed a  lot,” he muttered. “Yeah, I’m fine, Bug... all that sparring we did really came in handy.” “RJ?” RJ groaned and got shakily to his feet. He wasn’t injured save for a few bruises along his legs--the blast hadn’t been quite point blank--but he was still in pain. “Yeah, just gimme a bit for the drugs to kick in,” he said, referring to the mix of painkillers and stimulants his armor would shortly be injecting into his bloodstream. “Hunter, those things are  fast.” “Of course they are--they are warriors like me.” Bug looked around the market. “Bug, what are they doing here?” Sirus asked. “I thought you said your kind didn’t travel through space.” “They don’t, Red. That’s the problem.” He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “And they obviously came with the BioDerm that RJ saw...” Sirus said it first. “Bug, they aren’t after  you, are they?” He was referring to what Bug had told he, Warren, and Spectre some time ago, that the Queen that had exiled Bug would come to destroy him should he let any information about his hive get out. “I don’t know.” Bug’s antennae trembled. “But I can’t discount that possibility.” “But why are the ‘Derms mixed up with them?” “Right now, that doesn’t matter a whole lot, Red. The warrior that got away is doubtless going to inform its brothers of our location. It would be in our best interests to run. We can take four of them, as we just did, but if more than that show up, we won’t get out of this alive.” Bug strode over to RJ, who was still unsteady on his feet. “Are you able to run?” “I don’t know, Bug... that disk blast really screwed up the leg-servos in my armor,” he said. “Then you will ride. Get on.” Bug turned around and put his back towards his fellow merc. RJ wasted no time in straddling Bug’s horizontally projecting abdomen and locking his arms around Bug’s torso. “To the  Maelstrom!” <img src=http://scribers.midwestmail.com/ambushbug/BugSig.jpg align=LEFT> Member: DTM, XMEN Professional Tank Driver Card-carrying Base-Cracker Ugly Son-Of-A-Gun Bug's Tank Bumper Sticker: "If you can read this, you're already street pizza."Edited by: <A HREF=http://pub3.ezboard.com/uambushbug.show ... =EN>Ambush Bug</A>  <IMG SRC="http://www.xmenclan.org/images/x.gif" BORDER=0> at: 4/3/02 1:53:37 am

Spinning Hat · Post by **Spinning Hat** » Wed Apr 03, 2002 7:49 am

Combat good....... <img src=http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/im ... /happy.gif ALT=":D"> <map name="SHMAP"><area href="http://xmenclan.org" target="_blank" shape="rect" coords="169, 72, 193, 143"><area href="http://dragontalonmercs.com" target="_blank" shape="rect" coords="0, 78, 25, 141"><area href="http://pub1.ezboard.com/uspinninghat.sh ... anguage=EN" target="_blank" shape="rect" coords="22, 3, 172, 30"></map><img border="0" src="http://www.xmenclan.org/sh3d2.gif" usemap="#SHMAP" width="194" height="144"> Why Do I always Die?!?!

X Rogue · Post by **X Rogue** » Wed Apr 03, 2002 10:47 am

Indeed......<img src=http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/im ... /happy.gif ALT=":D"> <img src="http://www.xmenclan.org/avatars/rogue_av.jpg" border="0" align="left" width="142" height="200">"Fare well wherever you fare, until your eyries receive you at your journey's end."<A href='http://pub39.ezboard.com/brohan73264'>Rohan BBS</A> <A href='http://pub3.ezboard.com/bxmenclan'>XMen BBS</A>

FireFro · Post by **FireFro** » Wed Apr 03, 2002 8:14 pm

Sweet writing Bug. Action was great. I think one of the things I enjoy most about your writing is the way you work with the Tribes universe. You're totally loyal to the specifics of it, but you always take it in new directions. Along with your creative touches (all the details of your bug race), just reading this made me think of what an interesting project a single-player or tight squad-based game the Tribes backdrop would make for. Can't wait for more. XMEN|FireFro[DTM] --- "I hate shocklances" "Join me or die, can you do any less?"

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