My name’s Gangreen. It’s a long story about how I got that name, but I’m not here to tell you that one. Listen carefully to a tale of love, deceit and destruction. Well, maybe not love. It all started as our motley troupe crossed into the Blasted Plains…
My job among the men I was traveling with was mainly the cook. Gopher, scout and general nuisance were added to the resume every once in a while. I was the smallest member of the crew at six feet even, and at a buck and three-quarters, I guess that’s why I was a natural joker. The biggest of the crew, Big D, was also the ringleader. Watching him cram his huge frame into his custom armor was a sight you just couldn’t forget. The others of our bunch; Beefcake, the quickest son of a bitch you’ve ever seen… Hippie, our munitions expert and all around gadget man… Zachary, a good middle-man with an itchy trigger finger. Heck, they all had their good, and bad, points. The others had all been either picked up at a bar or spared from a disk to the head and given a second chance at life.
The Blood Angels. I never could figure out what was supposed to be angelic about this team. Maybe it was in reference to a fallen angel looking at how we fought. As I was saying though, it all started when we entered the Blasted Plains from the North. We had picked a nice overhanging outcrop to protect us from the ever present wind. I had been lucky enough the day before to find some wild coyote-like critters scrubbing some carrion at the edge of the desert. I had to thank the stars that I finally stopped the random destruction of our dinner from some well-placed mortars. I had decided to make some of my famous stone wolf soup that quiet evening.
“Hey, Gan. This big enough?” came from my right. Looking over at the lump holding a boulder big enough to brain a mastodon, I slowly shook my head.
“Mech, I asked for some small rocks. Does that look small to you?”
“Well,” he mumbled, “when compared to…”
“What?” I spat back. “A drop ship? I’ll get some myself.” I ambled off in the direction of the edge of the overhang where I was sure some suitable sized stones were to be found. I heard a muffled thump as Mechalus dropped what he was holding. I found the rocks I was looking for and went back to the small fire I had built to finish dinner.
Usually a quiet time, the men were unusually restless at the evening meal. No compliments were given about the meal (of course). I was amazed at how much some of these miniature hercs could pack away at one sitting. I was in the middle of cleaning up the area with the help of Hippie when I heard our leader clear his throat.
“Gents,” He said in his rough, gravelly voice, “we’ve come upon some information regarding the area we are now in.” He glanced at each and every one of us before uttering his next words. “Thirty or so clicks to the South-East there’ve been reports of a major gathering of Diamond Sword.”
“Aww, man!” came from Beef.
“Frack! So, what’re we supposed to do?” Zachary asked for the rest of the team.
Big D gave the reply, “That’s up to us. I know of only one other Blood faction anywhere nearby, and they aren’t too happy with us for taking out their turrets after they started shooting everything that moved.” He stood up suddenly and started pacing back and forth. We had only seen our leader nervous once or twice before, but never to the point of pacing.
Hippie spoke up. “So how many we talking about here?”
“The reports have been fuzzy at best,” Big D mumbled, “but the count seems to be around three-hundred.” Someone whistled in the background. “But that’s nothing,” he continued, “they say another column has been sighted coming from the East, adding about two-hundred more to the count.” The whistle repeated, this time in a higher tone.
“Wonder what’s going on?” I threw into the pot of growing questions.
Beef looked at me from across the pit flickering red from the fire within and said, “Don’t you get it Gan? They want De’Adilus Prime. They want the whole planet!”
“Who the frak would want a piss hole like this?” inquired Mech. “There’s only two or three places on this planet suitable for anything but getting heat stroke or spelunking.”
“Maybe they found something worth keeping.” Hippie offered. “Gods know it’s not close enough to any other important systems. The minerals we found are pretty much common enough not to be considered rare…”
“Okay,” our leader interrupted, “but what we do know is that these Diamond scum need to be escorted from our planet. We need to come up with something… and fast.”
We awoke the next morning to find Hippie crouched over the radio. He was chattering in the COMM OPPS’s clipped, choppy language for long distance messages. Every so often, he would spit out a chain of expletives that no one could miss. Finally, he smashed the handset back in its carrier and headed off to see Big D.
“What do you think’s going to happen?” Mech asked no one in particular.
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” I replied, “but I don’t have a good feeling about this.” I received a few grunts and nods, and left to prepare the light breakfast of hardtack and nutri-gel. About half an hour later, we were all packed up and ready to head off into the growing haze of the desert. Judging by the look on Big D’s face, though, the desert was going to be a picnic compared to what lay ahead.
Crossing a desert is no fun. Crossing a desert in battle armor is downright nasty. While tempers flared along with the sweat glands, the men contemplated the news of the previous evening. Big D hadn’t said a word except for a few grunts to Hippie at the COMM console. After an unsuccessful attempt at lightening the situation by starting a round of Row, Row, Row Your Boat, I decided to shut up.
“Hey, Gan,” Beef said, coming up on my left, “what’s for lunch?”
“How about a sandwich?” I quipped. I barely had time to duck the huge fist swinging in my direction. “Hey, just kidding!” I said a little sorely. “Don’t you guys think with anything other than your stomachs?” I hurried myself to the head of the line where Big D was breaking a path through the low scrub. “Boss, how’s about we break for lunch?”
“No.” was the terse reply I received. “If they want something, pass out hardtack. We aren’t stopping.”
“… okay.” I decided not to delve into the matter any further. Slowly making my way to the back of the line, I passed out hardtack rations to the men as I passed them. I got a couple of confused looks, but a shake of my head kept them plodding along.
It was about 2100 hours when we finally broke camp behind a low rise in the never-ending scenery. Sighs of relief echoed throughout the throng of hot, sweaty people. Big D slowly walked in my direction as I was breaking out the portable camp stoves for a much needed meal. I knew that if I didn’t make something in a hurry, I’d have some terrible monsters breathing down my neck for some chow.
“No fires.” Big D almost whispered.
“What?” I shot back. “These guys are probably hungry enough to eat a whole cow! Each!!”
“You know that hardtack’s got all the nutrition they need to keep going.” he explained to me.
“I do know that, but that’s not going to satisfy the hunger.” I mumbled. “I’ll toss in some jerky from that dewback Mech got for us last month.” The boss man gave a nod and beckoned for another warrior to join him. I slowly started packing up the stoves hoping to get an ear in edgewise to the conversation being held, but they walked off toward the perimeter of the small camp. I pulled out the last of the jerky from the coffers of my “chuck wagon” as the cronies liked to call my field kitchen. Passing out the hardtack once again, I got many more dirty looks, but after pulling a hunk of jerky from an ear or nose or some other bodily orifice, the frowns slowly melted.
About an hour after the meal was given out, Big D stepped into what could be termed the middle of the encampment and raised a hand for all to listen.
“As you all know, we have a large contingent of enemy gathering somewhere to the South-East of our position.” he started. “And you may also know that we’re pretty much the only Blood Eagle faction in the area.” There were a few nods, as well as shakes of the head, out in the crowd. “We’ve been given the task to destroy this small army!” Big D threw out, looking at the reaction of his men.
Beef spoke first. “How in the living hell are thirty-two or so men supposed to take on over five hundred? I know we’re a bunch of bad-asses, but not freaking suicidal bad-asses!”
“Yeah!” chipped in a few other voices from the throng while the rest of the crowd mumbled to a neighbor.
Again, Big D raised his hand for silence and spoke. “We have a report from Base Bravo that some of our guys have infiltrated the Diamond Sword and are included in the group we now face. Plans for a little subterfuge are in the works, but will only work if we can hold up our end.”
I couldn’t help but speak up. “I know we’ve got some pretty big guys here, but that seems like a pretty heavy end to hold!” I noticed our leader’s small nod. “So what are we supposed to do?” I asked.
“Supposedly, the enemy has chosen an abandoned spaceport of unknown origin, to gather their forces. The group of two-hundred is now on a forced march to reach the others in two days.” He paused to take a large breath. “According to intel reports, we are only a few hours away from the spaceport, as you can tell by the glow coming from over there.” He slowly pointed to the back of the crowd. Every head not already facing that direction slowly swiveled in the direction of his finger. “At 0330 hours, we’ve been told that the infiltrators are going to distract the main force. That’s when we attack.”
“How in the heck are they going to distract three hundred men?” I asked. “Hold a sunrise striptease?” A few appreciative chuckles floated my way.
“We don’t know.” Answered the towering man. “Although, we will know when it happens.” Hippie suddenly stepped up to Big D and handed him a sheet of thermal paper. D thanked him and looked up at the group. “It looks as if we have a satellite recon photo here.” He lifted the paper for a casual inspection. “And it looks like our chances may be better off than we originally thought.”
Splitting up into our predefined groups, Beef, Hippie and Big D set about the task of explaining the plan of attack. The spaceport, we came to find out, was situated in a natural depression in the desert forming a bowl in the landscape. Sentries were posted only a few meters out from the perimeter of the main building complex. The troops were being held in two large storage bays that used to hold spacecraft. The only thing that worried me, but I didn’t mention, was that from the edge of the bowl to the perimeter of the base, we were going to be a bunch of sitting ducks. Hopefully, this so-called distraction would draw the attention of the sentries, making our snipers much more effective. The plans discussed, we settled down for a short, very uncomfortable, sleep.
0330 hours. In the desert, this is a very peaceful time. All the carnivores that prowl at night are heading back to their respective lairs to sleep off the coming day. All except for a group of thirty-two beasts in full power armor letting loose an almost physical cloud of adrenaline into the night air. We had set up our fire teams in a ring around the depression. Listening to the quiet static crackling in our headsets, we waited for the signal.
Peering into the darkness of the pit we had surrounded, I looked for any sign of movement. There, just past the edge of the hard tarmac was a sentry talking with a fellow short-straw puller. They were both in light armor and armed with the familiar energy pack and laser rifle. The one closest to me was sipping on a canister of fluid, probably water, and laughing at what the other was saying. A shadow behind them moved. Suddenly, both of the men snapped to attention and I could almost see the strained look on their faces. Quickly, they snapped a salute and started answering the man in the heavy armor. Finally, they saluted once more and started back into the standard sentry swagger known to all midnight runners. The larger shape ambled off in the direction of the nearest hangar. Stepping into the frame of the doorway, the warrior was easier to get a better look at. He was holding a mortar gun at his side and scanning the space in front of him back and forth. He saluted to someone that must have been close by. Still holding his weapon and motioning with it as he talked, he looked as if he were having a heated discussion. After a few minutes of wild gesturing, he stepped aside to let the person he was talking to, out. As soon as the other man reached the doorway, I knew our signal wasn’t far around the corner. The man in the heavy armor lifted the mortar gun, and with considerable force, hit the other man on the back of the head. The body slumped forward with absolutely no life in it. The fatty turned, kicked on his weapon after a slight adjustment, then fired half a dozen shots into the room.
“Get down there, you friggin’ pansies!” Big D shouted, sounding like he was right behind me. The adrenaline kicked in. I bounced from my prone position with a flicker from my jet pack to give me a little forward momentum and charged down the hillside. Thirty-two men with nothing but murder on their minds were running headlong into a pit where an unsuspecting mob was waiting.
I can’t say who fired the first shot. But heading down the slight incline, I saw a red streak shoot across my vision and a shadow near the corner of the hangar I was running toward dropped. “What about those mortars?” I thought to myself. “They should have gone off by now!” During the first part of my sprint down the hillside, I noticed the heavy barrel out of the building he loaded with time bombs and run at the other one we had marked on our maps. All of a sudden, a bright flash of evil-looking green shot out of the doorway of the hangar with the mortars inside. The report of the blast hit a second later.
“Holy…” crackled in my ear, definitely in the voice of Mechalus. “One down, five to g…” The second blast cut him off in mid-sentence. Looking out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the heavy lob a few mortars into the second building. The heavy was then in the midst of a swarming mass of bodies pouring out of the doorway he was standing by.
Big D spoke in my head again. “Somebody cover his ass!” I noticed, as stripes of red started imprinting themselves on the insides of my retinas, that the laser beams cut through at least three or four men at a time when going off.
“Skewer those bastards!” screamed Beef from the enclosing circle of men. Directly across from my position, I saw Big D launch up to the top of what was labeled “Loading Forum” on our maps. He ran to a vent and dropped a grenade in. He jumped off the roof and jet-packed next to the heavy plowing bullets into the people running out of the building. The grenade went off with a dull thud followed by the start of the mortars previously launched by our comrade.
“HPC’s coming in from the East.” Hippie informed the crew now in combat with some enemies that happened to reach their armor suits.
“Gangreen!” I heard on our open channel.
“Sir!” I replied to Big D.
“Take your team over and pound those damn fly boys that think they can break up our tussle.” he answered back with a wicked grin I could hear.
I switched over to my team’s channel and yelled out the command, “You heard the man. I wanna see some red blurs shootin’ over that horizon yesterday!” Five men broke off from the mass of confusion in a single burst of jet packs.
“On our way, boss.” After taking the time to disk a guy trying to take out one of ours, I hit my thrusters and bounced out of the fray.
“Remember, he said HPC’s.” I was relaying to my team, “That means more than one, and up to at least eight fatties to take care of. Simms, you and Roberts hit the South flank. Switch, you’re with me. Jax, you and Goose dig in on the underbelly.” I received five flashes of command acknowledged on my HUD. Hopping over the flat area and scanning the horizon for the unmistakable shape of an HPC, I realized that Hippie had neglected to give the distance.
“Enemy in sight… ah, crap! Bail, Simms!” came from Roberts.
“Aaaaaaaaghhhh!!!!” I heard Simms scream, then the blip that represented him was gone.
“South!” I hollered over the comm. “Head South Jax” knowing Goose was with him. “What’s the sitch, Roberts?”
“Two of them… heading back this way. Fatties are loaded Gan. Can you pinpoint me?”
“I’ve got ya Rip” I assured him, heading to the point where his blip disappeared. “Jax?”
“Almost there, Gan.” Jax responded. I was straining my jetpack’s engine scooting ever closer to Richard “Rip” Roberts when I saw the beam of his laser rifle streak through the air followed by a flash of green where the laser shot came from.
“RIP!” I screamed.
“Damn… bitches are using up their mortars on li’l ‘ol me?” came Roberts’ voice over the air.
“Hehe. Good old Rip.” Jax giggled as he streaked in beside me. As I turned my attention back to where the flash and laser came from, a dark shape came growling out of the air. An HPC loaded down with four heavies. Three had mortar guns at the ready, swinging them to bear on us, while the fourth was using his repair pack to fix up the guy that must’ve eaten Rip’s laser. I lifted my spinfuzor and took careful aim. Leading the beast barreling down on me, I saw three green trails of smoke floating in my direction. I fired and took off straight up from my position. While concentrating on not coming down like a rock, I saw my disk clip the medic on the arm. I hit the ground running and dodged the bits of scruff blasted from the mortar that hit behind me. As the transport slowly passed overhead, cooking the air with it’s four powerful jets, I tossed a grenade into the bed of the vehicle. A few seconds later, a shockwave, followed by a heavy knocked off the HPC, hit the ground. “Damn.” I swore to myself as the heavy landed like a giant cat. I could hear the groan of the HPC as one of its engines crapped out. Pulling out my plasma gun, I launched into the sky again. Luckily, the heavy was too slow to hit a target moving as fast as I was. I left the corpse behind me a few seconds later as I rushed in the direction of the crippled flying machine. “How are my boys doing?” I asked into the mic.
“I’m bleeding bad, Gan.” came the faint whisper of Goose. “Can’t hold on…”
“Don’t you give up there Goose!” I yelled at him. “Jax, what’s going on?”
Jax answered back instantly. “Goose decided to play kick the can with one of their green eggs, Gan. He’s in a culvert through. He should be safe.”
“Goose, if you die on me,” I informed my wounded buddy, “I’m gonna kill you!”
“I’ll… ohhhh.. be alright. Just gotta… get this… health pack working.” Goose wheezed. Topping the next rise gave me a pleasant sight. The lumbering monster that was the HPC I crippled was slowly plowing a furrow into the hard, sun-baked dirt. It looked as if the pilot had met up with a high-speed piece of metal. The three remaining heavies were having a heck of a time trying to get their bearings.
“Jax, where’d that other transport go?” I asked as I saw him top the rise.
“To the base, Gan. Need some help there?”
“No. Switch and I got these fatties. Go find Roberts.” I answered. Switch was already barreling over with his chaingun blazing away. I kicked my jetpack into action again and popped off a couple of disks. “Switch, put that fat boy with the plasma gun away. I’ll get the one on the left with the mortars. I had noticed that the middle heavy was having some electrical problems and was probably frying in his own armor. During my flight path to intercept my target, he must have noticed the telltale flash of my jets. Three deadly trails of smoke came flying my way as the heavy searched for a more defensible position. I blasted into the lower stratosphere hoping my jets didn’t heat one of those mortars and set it off early. A split second later, I found myself with an aerial view that would have made Icarus proud and a burning sensation in my foot. The fatty that launched me into ballistic mode then made a mistake that cost him dearly. Gazing up at me, the enemy stopped to get a better view, just in time to see the handful of grenades followed by a burrowing mine. He looked down at the four grenades about ready to go off when the mine hit him in the faceplate. The smoking divot in the ground was the only reminder that a person was even in that spot.
“Woo hoo!” I heard Switch holler into the comm. “What now, boss?” he asked.
“Let’s gather up what we can and get back to the main battle.” I answered back. “Jax, how’re you doing?”
“Looks like Goose is gonna’ take a while to get anywhere,” he replied, “and Roberts’ll be okay after a few stimpacks.”
“Alright. Roberts,” I commanded, “you stay with Goose and use a scrambler. Switch… Jax… you two come with me back to the base and get ready to kick some more ass. As we headed back to take part in the carnage of the main battle, the sun poked it’s head up over the horizon behind us. Little did we know, we had a surprise waiting for us.
Working our way back to the main base, I did a visual check of the men under my command. I noticed that Jax had a small leak in his jetpack.
“Switch, use that repair pack and fix Jax’s jets.” I relayed to my teammate.
“Sure thing, Gan.” he responded. “So, have you had any reports from base?”
“No. This damn desert is terrible for communication unless you happen to have broadband.” I answered. “I think at about a hundred yards we’ll get a clear signal though.” I started loading the extra ammo into my spare weapons as the crack in Jax’s jetpack got gradually smaller. About five minutes away from the compound, I started to hear the crackle of the comm in my ear. Listening to what little I could understand, I relayed to the men that we had one hell of a fight to get ready for.
The Blood Angels were the first group to accept me into their ranks. I remembered the first battle we had ever fought. It was in the swamplands of some backwater place. The planet had had a bad reputation for not allowing anyone to leave it. We, along with about fifty other men and women, were assigned to protect a stronghold being built due to there being a large metal concentration in what little land there was. I was still being given the ribbing due a junior member of the team. I had awakened that morning to find a very large and very bright target painted on my armor. Going along with the joke, I walked around all day shouting “Shoot me!” at passersby. When the attack sirens sounded, there was no time to start scrubbing, so I had to fight like a madman. The respect from my teammates grew that day, and the pranks and ribbing stopped too.
Clearing my mind from my reverie, I focused on the task at hand. Reaching the lip of the depression, we could see the base finally. The carnage and destruction that met our eyes was unlike any other we had ever witnessed before. One of the barracks was a smoldering mass of charred metal. The tarmac looked as if a deranged gopher had decided to call it home. As Hippie flickered back into life on the comm, directing a flank movement, I noticed the sheer number of red triangles bouncing back and forth on my HUD.
“I think their reinforcements got here a little sooner than expected.” mumbled Jax.
“Big D… we’re back from the skirmish… where do you want us? I asked into my mic. “Goose and Roberts are down, but not out for the count.” I added.
“I see you on the scanner, Gangreen.” Big D answered immediately. “We’re sorta holed up right now, but if you can give us a little leeway, we’ve got something big waiting for these bastards.”
“Gotcha covered. Jax,” I called while motioning to a depression a few hundred yards to our right, “head on over there and do that sniping voodoo you do so well.” He grinned at me then took off. “Switch, what’s your grenade count?”
“Full load, Gan.” He replied.
“Well, then, hope you’re warmed up, ’cause we’re gonna try to pitch a no-hitter tonight.” I gave the signal for an escort and headed down the gentle incline towards the destruction.
I noticed that the enemies’ attentions were centered on securing the one barracks left standing. With their focus elsewhere, I hoped that we would have the element of surprise. We were loping along the line of shadow being cast from the lip of the crater, so as to make our outlines hard to see. Taking a quick glance at my HUD, I noticed the the green markers that were my teammates were intermingled with the glaring red spots. “They must be underground!” I thought to myself “Might want to be careful of the grenades.” About fifty yards away from the skeleton of the first barracks, someone spotted our position. “Now!” I yelled into my comm. Switch started lobbing grenades at the crowd with unerring accuracy. Switch was one of the few men that I knew that could toss grenades with the precision of a sniper and still be on the move at three different vectors at a time. As we reached the unsteady shelter of a pile of smoking wood, I heard the telltale buzz of a laser, followed by a streak of red, burn a line from right above my shoulder to the forehead of the heavy making the laborious turn to face us. The grenades started going off.
BOOM
“Okay, Big D.” I started.
BOOM
“You’ve got your distraction…”
BOOM BOOM
“Better do what you need, ’cause we’re sitting ducks out here.” I finished. Taking a glance from behind cover, I noticed about five hoplites launching themselves up into the air to overtake our position. “Switch, you’ve got ground defense, I’ve got the skies.”
Switch let out a primal scream followed by his signature, “Die, you decayed dogs of disease!!!” on the open channel. He launched out from behind the building frame with a grenade in each hand and a look in his eyes to give the undead chills.
I heard Hippie’s voice in my ear. “Gangreen, stay away from the main crowd. They’re about to be no more.” I couldn’t help but to hear the chuckle in his voice.
“Gotcha.” I answered, dodging a disc. The five attackers suddenly became four after a shot from Jax. Switching over to my chaingun, I ripped a second man open with a hail of flechettes. As I headed toward the earth at a speed not normally dared by most people, I noticed a glint up on the ridge I was facing. I kicked on my thrusters and absorbed most of the shock of landing by doing a sideways roll and kicking off backwards after the roll was complete. The slight shock of the disc landing where I just was, pushed me into one of the many craters pocking the landscape. I exchanged my chaingun for the familiar grip of my spinfuzor while waiting for my energy pack to recharge.
“Another one down.” Switch yelled on the channel. “Gan, I hope you don’t like your hidey hole, ’cause some mortars are heading your way.” He warned. I launched up out of the hole leaving a mine hanging from the lip as I blew by. Just as I had hoped, one of the incoming lites followed me with his eyes as his body continued forward.
KA-BOOM
Glancing down, I noticed his body was no longer going forward. Hopping around like a rabid jackrabbit, I took care of another bad guy before a shockwave bowled me over. For a split second, while I was tumbling head over heels through the air, I thought “Who brought the nuke?” I landed somewhat haphazardly and just had time to cover my head when a shower of dirt and bodies started raining around, and on, me. Hazarding a glance, I saw my whole team explode out of the new crater where the enemy throng used to be.
“Take ’em down, boys!” Big D hollered over the open channel. “These pieces of steaming coil are getting on my nerves.” I lifted myself from the ground and started hopping over to the main collection of friendlies slowly spreading from the hole. I must have landed harder than I thought because I could only get a few feet off the ground before losing altitude. Running over to the group, I waved my hand in Big D’s direction.
BZZZZZT
Red hot pain was all I could feel in the hand I had lifted. Falling to my knees, I raised my left hand to my face, and looked through the nicely cauterized hole in it. Even through the searing pain, I knew enough not to stay in the same place. I rolled to my left in time to see a scorch mark appear where I was just kneeling.
“I’ve got your back, Gan.” I heard Jax say from what seemed to be a very long distance.
I slowly stood up and made my way to the building that my HUD told me where Hippie was. Oblivious to the battle, the only thing that made it through my fuzzy intellect was “Now how am I gonna flip burgers? I sure as hell can’t do it with my right hand.” Screams and explosions were ignored as I trudged my way to my friends.
“Well, it looks as if our medics may be able to do something, but I doubt that you’ll ever get full use back.” Hippie was informing me in the corner of a small room set aside for a medic station.
“Aw, man!” I whined back. “I stir soup with that hand. I simmer things. All my cooking’s going to go to crap.”
“You mean it’s not there already?” Beef asked from the cot across the aisle. He was wrapped from the upper torso to his thighs. I’d heard that he was actually inside the first barracks when it exploded. Most of the gang was outside running off the last of the stragglers.
“Don’t worry about it, Gangreen, we’ll be sure to still eat what you serve up.” Hippie assured me. “No one can fix up some of the grub you can.”
“Thanks.” I muttered under my breath.
Big D, being a little beaten around in his heavy armor was wincing as the nanobots stitched a large patch of flesh on his midsection. “Good show out there, Gan.” he said to me. “Too bad we don’t have rank in our little outfit or you’d be getting a promotion.”
“Just doing my job, boss.” I answered back with a grin on my face.
“And doing it like the bad ass you are.” he responded.
Just then, a heavy with a charred helmet and armor smoking from use, tromped up to the doorway to the room.
Hippie looked up at him and slowly frowned. “You’re not part…” he started as the man behind the mask lifted the mortar gun and pointed it directly at him. I heard the quiet poompf of the weapon discharging a mortar right into Hippie’s chest. “OOF!” was all Hippie let out as the smoking canister knocked him off his feet.
“Get down!” Big D yelled as he launched himself of top of the mortar. The heavy standing in the door toppled over when Beef, purple with rage, pointed a plasma blaster at him and filled him with raw energy.
SLAM
Knocked off my bunk and bleeding, I crawled to the form that was previously my leader. I reached the spot where he lay wheezing. The lower half of Big D was gone, vaporized in the explosion. One eye rolled in my direction and a gurgling sound issued from his throat.
“Gan…” I could barely hear the whisper. “The dragon…” He took a long, hitching breath. “…never dies.” Then, he collapsed, all the energy he had left used up in those few final words.
We buried Big D on the hillside where he first gave the order to attack. Twelve others were buried alongside him. The words were few, the emotions high. No one could figure out what Big D’s cryptic message was supposed to mean, but no one really wanted to accept the fact that his flame was finally extinguished. The orders from command came back two days later. The results from the first expedition had been found to be tainted. We no longer needed the planet. On the dropship, the team unfortunately disbanded and the Blood Angels were no more.
That was three months ago, and I still feel the terrible pangs in my hand even though it’s no longer there. These cybernetic prostheses are nice, but don’t make up for the real thing. I’ve heard that some of my buds have joined up with other factions, but I don’t want to rush myself. We’ve received news of a discovery in the Deneb system. I’m thinking of signing up for the exploration team. Yeah, that’s what I need now, a little excitement.
THE END
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