The Agenda is a slightly planned epic spanning the entire Starfarer universe. It focuses far less upon ship-combat and far more upon the ground-pounders who are so easily forgotten. This one's for them.
Spoiler
Hair matted, clothes soaked, I sat there, quietly bleeding.
"Come on kid, we know what you are. So you gonna tell us where our damned money is, or do you feel like sticking around for a couple more days?!" Had I really been here for days? The dull pounding in my skull told me it was undoubtedly the truth.
He growled dejectedly at my silence then shouted, twisting and whipping his arm around, bringing something cold and hard crashing against the small of my back. There was a dull crack, and a numbing pain washed over me as my broken and battered body pitched forward off of the seat and crashed to the deck, writhing slowly. The shadow of a towering form darkened the floor, its muscles rippled with the slightest movement, the arms strong from back-breaking work. The other men laughed raucously at this and most of them backed away, satisfied that I was in good hands.
I struggled painfully, propping myself up with a great deal of effort. "Come on, we've been at this all night." The giant bellowed, and hauled me to my feet. "I think its time to finish this."
I hollered and spat words out, desperately trying to save my life. "I wouldn't be able to give it up, even if I did know where it was!"
He gave a dissapointed look, slamming a particularly massive fist into my stomach and grinding it methodically, shoving it further and further into my guts until I thought it was going to burst out the other end. I actually felt the organs rupture, pouring fluid and filling my insides. I retched and a foul taste stung my throat and filled my mouth. A disgusting mixture of blood and vomit spilled onto the ground.
The big man shook me one-handed, swinging me round carelessly and tossing my across the room. My boot-clad foot caught one man who had strode too close in the jaw. He yelped as fell to the deck and scrambled back to his feet. More out of surprise than anything else, he laughed, then drew and buried a knife into my leg. More blood spattered the walls and stained the floor.
I screamed for all I was worth, however little that may have been.
The knife wielder spoke, gritting his teeth and putting pressure on the hilt.
I cried shamelessly.
"Look, all we want is our damned creds so we can hurry this along and kill you. It doesn't matter how long you keep this act up, either way you'll be dead. Your only choice in the matter is whether it happens sooner, or later." I looked up at him, hot tears streaming down my face. A, quite literally, lopsided grin drew across the mutant miner's face half a moment before it exploded into a red mist, showering me with bits of brain and skull.
The remaining men stood stock still, agape, and before they even had time to realise what was happening another bystander caught a round in the mouth. Gore and teeth burst outwards as he hit the ground hard, his body spasming demonically and his weapon discharging into the giant's chest as he turned finally to meet the sound of gunfire.
Gurgling, the big man's grip loosened and we both toppled to the ground. He looked at me, eyes clouding over as his lungs filled with blood. I uttered a shuddering sob, gripping my leg, and started to feel sick.
The others cried out, some drawing firearms while the rest scrambled to escape through the sole entrance, only to find it blocked by black-clad marines. The soldiers approached them swiftly, making short work of any who resisted, gunfire tearing through their helpless bodies, and even those of them who were unarmed or surrendered were mercilessly cut down.
Their weapons still smoking, a small tangle of Marines quickly waded through the bodies and towards my place on the floor as the others secured the room. "Lieutenant, we've recovered the package and are ready to return to the Warband." My heart began to beat faster, and my thoughts echoed in my head amidst surges of pain, searching for a way out until something occurred to me, and my mind slowed. "Come on, get him out of here."
I lay there amidst the dead and dying, pools of blood beginning to form around their bullet-ridden figures. The marines approached me and helped me to my feet.
END
Spoiler
Corporal Armon Yager yawned and stretched, his weapon hung loosely from the strap looped around his shoulder. "Could this place be any more of a drag Vick?"
He glanced over at the senior NCO. Victor grinned as he leaned in his seat at the weapons console, it groaned under the bulk of his body armour and Armon suddenly noticed that they were both sweating profusely. Combat watch was always uncomfortable, especially in the hell hole they were stationed in this year. "Only when I have to play wet nurse to you all day Arms."
He chuckled softly and shifted his weight to the other foot, his right hand resting on his assault rifle as he gazed through the rather small viewport. Armon panned his eyes slowly over the low rolling dunes that dominated the Dashruva territory and found there wasn't much to see aside from sand and, if he was lucky, the occasional nomad.
The same as two months ago and every day since.
Perhaps it would be the same forever.
He sighed, removing his helmet and running his gloved fingers through his jet black hair. Sergeant Victor Cain drew away from his place at the console to speak, but quickly snapped his attention back to it when a notice flashed across the screen preceded by a blaring alarm. He nodded and stood.
"Get the squad together, First Platoon is on the move."
Armon took two steps and slid down the ladder of the compound's North-East observation tower, jumping before he reached the ground and sprinting towards the bunkhouse.
----
The world fell silent for a moment, then thundered and flashed blindingly as a container unit detonated. "We just lost the rest of second squad!" Cain shouted orders above the noise of gunfire. "Armon! Take three and push left! We'll cover you go!"
"Sir!"
Armon ran, his men following close behind.
He opened fire before he hit the ground, his rounds tearing into the hostile crew members. The air crackled as energy weapons fire lashed out from the opposite side of the hanger, narrowly missing him; steel bubbled and the smell of ozone wafted through the air. He could feel the heat that prickled and burned his skin every time a bolt came too close.
He rolled up from his position on the ground and into cover behind a layer of crates. He keyed his helmet mike and screamed. "Hit 'em now Wes!"
He turned his head and watched as the platoon gunner hefted his massive weapon. Its reciever whirred for a moment, then buzzed as it threw slug after slug, spraying rounds that punched through man after man and cut them down in droves. It chewed them up and spattered their remains about the cargo hold and the faces of their bewildered compatriots. The survivors began to withdraw further into the ship, like a flaming tick that just wouldn't stop digging.
Lieutenant Spiers voice sounded on the comm.
"Outstanding work marines! Third Squad secure this area and prepare the wounded for exfiltration. 1st Squad secure the rest of those crewmen. Detain them if at all possible.!"
Armon moved quickly towards the aft bulkhead and towards the hatch leading to the crew quarters.
"2nd Platoon reports engine room clear."
The Sergeant motioned towards the room and readied his rifle. One of the men keyed the door pad.
The hatch clicked and he pushed it open gently as Cain stepped back and covered the doorway. Armon shouldered his rifle and covered Cain.
The room was completely devoid, nothing was left after the Warband's antimatter blaster struck a hull breach, detonated internally, and blew the freighter's guts clear through the other end of the secondary hold that they were 'clearing'.
Armon spoke into his helmet, lowering his rifle and moving towards the centre of the hold along with the Sergeant as the squad made a final sweep of the deck. They moved forward slowly, visors depolarising as they surveyed the scene of destruction before them. "Sir he isn't here. He may not be on this craft. Perhaps we should conduct another swe-" Another voice crackled and came in over the comm, it was slightly muffled by what he thought was gunfire. "Lieutenant, we've recovered the package and are ready to return to the Warband"
Spiers responded.
"Roger that, I copy your last transmission. Rendezvous and prepare for exfil'. First Platoon, Second Platoon, fall back immediately. We're done here."
END
21 April, 2013 --- I'll do my best to get this started again. For those of you still around, its good to be back.