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Fan Fiction

Embodiment Of Vengeance
Posted By: Conrad Lauf<coffeecare@ozemail.com.au>
Date: 11 May 2004, 9:30 AM

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A grunt squealed as it was thrown back against the steel wall, and Casey drew back his armoured fist for the killing blow. The grunt raised its arms above its chest, and Casey booted it in the groin. Hard. He brought his MA7B around, slamming its butt into the jaw of another grunt. Casey grimaced as the grunt's respirator shattered under the impact, and pieces of alien plastic flew into his face.
The tide of battle was turning in the Nightwraiths' favour; they had only lost three men, and there was only two grunts left. Simple. Casey shredded a grunt's backpack with armour-piercing rounds from the MA7B as it prepared to throw a grenade onto a Wraith's face. The grunt fell, its methane supply hissing into the air in a blue cloud. Casey grabbed the remaining grunt from behind, a threw it at the nearest wall. Blue ichor spurted, forming a sort of gory splatter effect on the steel. Casey now grabbed the body, and carried it to the corner of the tunnel, and his suspicions were confirmed.
A squad of four elites were walking cautiously down the tunnel, having climbed up the vent that the Nightwraiths had made their desperate escape through, and were planning on ambushing them from the rear. Casey guessed that if the elites continued at the pace they were at now, they would reach the Nightwraiths' corner in a matter of minutes. Suddenly an idea sparked in Casey's mind.
Dragging the still-warm body of the grunt, Casey reached down and picked up one of his twin SMG's. Now that he had some time on his hands, Casey was able to reload and cock the weapon. Now for the fun part. Casey motioned for the remaining four Wraiths to burst around the corner at the same time as Casey did. Casey held up his fingers for the countdown to the firefight. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
Now Casey tossed the body of the grunt across the tunnel, directly in the elites' view. He heard plasma rifles and needlers blaze at the body, and Casey was truly thankful for the elites' slow minds as they blindly emptied entire clips at the body, until they realized the grunt was dead, and it was one not a human. While they either reloaded, or waited for their plasma rifles to dump waste heat, the remaining five Nightwraiths burst out from their cover, and sent a hail of lead rocketing down the narrow tunnel, throwing the elites back. Four MA7B's and an SMG chattered, and hundreds of spent casings hit the floor. The four elites' bodies leapt and contorted, like some kind of grotesque dance, but they were already dead.
Casey turned to his Wraiths.
"Now, where were we?" he simply asked.

The Attack Pelican Dragoon-215 flew swiftly over the landscape, heading towards the dark-grey concrete stronghold in the distance. The pilot, Margaret Egan, said:
"Attention Wraiths, I am approaching your location and am proceeding to land on the designated area. Over."
Casey replied, "Understood Dragoon. We'll be there ASAP. Over."

Casey turned to his squad and said, "Okay Wraiths. Now we have a bit of a challenge. Who knows the exact direction of the landing pad from here?"
Private Gary Lawson nodded, answering, "Yeah. I studied the map while we were in the AP on the way here, and also took note of the direction from this tunnel to the pad, just in case of a situation like this. These pipes are visible from the outside, and run along the perimeter of this structure. The pad is right outside that thin steel wall there."
He pointed over Casey's shoulder.
"Thanks Lawson. Now, did anyone think to bring any demolition equipment?"
Fredrick Jacobs nodded, and pulled three thermal plastic explosive sticks out of his pack.
"Perfect," said Casey, reaching for the sticks.

Margaret gently landed the AP on the landing pad, and told her gunner, "John, I need you to aim your guns on that pipe there." She pointed at the pipe directly behind them. Gunner John Kupoinsky swung his twin-linked Vulcan miniguns around onto the pipe, his targeting reticles fixed squarely on its steel ribbing.

The five Nightwraiths held their hands over their ears as the plastic explosives went off, tearing through the thin steel like paper. Instantly the Wraiths ran through the resulting hole in the wall, carrying between them the precious crate containing the shields. Suddenly Casey heard heavy footfalls behind them.
"Ok shit!" he yelled, as two hunters came into view through the grey smoke.
"Go Wraiths! Move, move, move!"
They dove into the cargo bay of the AP, placing the crate first. The Nightwraiths didn't come this far to leave their prize behind. Casey was the last man in, and strapped himself in for the ride to come. Suddeny his vision of the hunters behind them on the outdoor concrete balcony was obscured by the hundreds of shells falling from Kupoinsky's miniguns, and Casey watched as the hunters fell, overpowered by the shear strength of the heavy supportive fire. As the doomed hunters on their small cliff grew smaller and smaller, Casey sighed, and said, "Now that was fun."