The Story
Long shadows claw desperately
away from your dusty combat boots, fueled by the
relentless sun of a late Texas afternoon. Shading your
eyes against the glare, you squint for the thousandth
time at the line of soldiers ahead of you. It stretches
on endlessly across the rubble, disappearing at last into
the cool shadows of a troop carrier. Soon youll
walk up the ramp into the ship, climb into your one-man
cocoon, tear through the interplanetary gateway, and
smash down light-years away from the blowing sand and
blasted ruins that surround the Dallas-Metro crater.
"What the hell is taking so
long?!" you snarl, slamming the battered barrel of
your side arm, the blaster, against your scarred palm.
"Ive waited long enough. Time to kick some
Strogg ass
"
Slightly rocking back and forth under
the sweltering August sun, you spit out of the side of
your mouth, rub your eyes, and think back to the day when
the wretched creatures first attacked. Like flaming
meteors, their crafts pounded into the Earth and
unbelievably, these bio-mechanical aliens
these
hideous cyborgs
swarmed out while their ships still
sizzled with reentry heat. They killed or captured
anything that lived. We figured that the Strogg were
after our planets resources: minerals, metals, and
water: things like that. But their onboard storage
facilities did little to disguise what they considered to
be resources: fleshy limbs and organs for new cyborgs,
and of course, food.
The line moves. And moves again. Into
the cool shadows at last. The assembled armies branch off
into new lines divided by corps and unit.
"I cant deal with this shit
whats the friggin hold-up?"
"Cool your jets, marine,"
Tokay mutters and smiles over his shoulder.
"Well all get a few Strogg heads to take home
as souvenirs. I promise you that."
"Yo, soldier, 3585." The
medtechs voice startles you. "You in or
out?" Competent hands guide you into the coffin-like
opening of your Mark 9A drop pod: sleek, dark, and
invisible to the Stroggos defense systems. One of the
techs begins to drop the reinforced pod door. "Sleep
tight, soldier. Youll see sunlight in less than six
and a half hours. Not our sun, mind you
"
<SLAM>
Pitch black except for the mild glow of
your video readout system in front of you. Youve
done this a dozen times in the sim classes. No sweat.
Just a few short hours to sleep, recharge, and then
the moment of glory. But this time its for real.
Its also time to think. You
recall your first official day of training, your unit
commander discussing how these damn parasites made it to
Earth and other nearby colonies in the first place. By
employing our best satellites and long-range scanners, we
learned how they traveled light years so quickly
the Strogg used these black hole-like gateways as their
highway to heaven. We still dont know if they
created these rips in the fabric of space and time, or if
they simply discovered them by accident. Either way
its just like opening the door to an
all-you-can-eat restaurant for these bastards. In about
two hours, well be entering the same interstellar
portals, to hit em where it hurts
on their
own turf.
You close your eyes and relish this
thought. Eventually, you nod off to the low hypnotic hum
of the troop carrier.
*Crackle* ... *fzzzz* ...
"Greetings to the people of the Coalition. This is
Flag Admiral Crockett, speaking to you from the bridge
deck of Phobos. We are entering the outer orbits of
Stroggos, the aliens home system. As we had
postulated, Stroggos atmosphere is harsh but
breathable. We expect to make planetfall soon. Now is the
time to switch on your debriefing panel if ya need
it."
"Boomer?" the voice crackles
through every soldiers headset. "Drop X-ray
squad in 30 on my mark. You copy?"
"Roger that!" In another pod,
your sergeant snaps back. "OK boys and girls, you
see the clock on your heads-up. Two demerits for anyone
who up-chucks during bounce and roll!"
*Shthunk!!* Your drop pod is shot from
the side of the carrier and hurtles downward.
*Wheee-oooooo!* Incendiary atmosphere howls past the
pods rapidly heating shell. *Ka-WHUMP! * The pod
wall suddenly buckles to your right, but stays intact.
Another pod must have clipped yours on its way in. ECM
didn't indicate enemy fire. Shit. Thrusters and
stabilizing gyros are fading. Based on the pings, the
other pods are pulling away. Below you, the large alien
city roars into focus on the screen. But where are the
other pods? They were there a minute ago.
Suddenly, distorted radio chatter
lights up, "Mayday! Mayday! Lost all power...
shielding failed... missed dz... some kind of EMP is...
kzzzt... us out. We're dropping like fli...
zzzzkkkzzzt". Silence. Damn! If the Strogg have
electromagnetic pulse defenses and we failed to detect
them
all of us are in the shitter.
That HUGE blip has to be the Big Gun.
You do a slow dogleg left as your navcomp finds a place
to land when all of a sudden retros kick in and propel
you south.
"What the...?" Before you
know it you skip across the lip of a crater and slam into
a structure, a good distance away from your target. Dazed
and bleeding from a head cut you toggle open the labeled
arsenal bins and reach for where your gear ought to be
stowed. Damn. Nothing but your sidearm. Damn again.
You leap out the crushed pod door,
alone, with blaster in hand, and tear off into the room
with the bittersweet stench of vengeance coursing through
your veins