Victories last hope Ch VI Rage against
Posted By: me<firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: 7 June 2006, 5:21 am
[Authors note: Well once again I'm writing and I can see you people going Oh no not again well please comment or read or leave constructive critisism.
Sean remained camoflauged amoung the wreckage as he and his team prepared to assault the grav lift. He shifted slightly to bring his battle rifle into position. The radio suddenly chirped as his people reported readiness and confirmed their targets. Gaurding the lift were two old fashion shade turrets, three Elites, approximatley seven jakals, and around ten to fifteen grunts. Foretunatley many of the jakals were preoccupied with what seemed to be a slightly injured grunt. Sure enough when the grunt tried to escape the clutches of the ravenous aliens it did so in a limp.
That is a bad sign, if the grunt has survived past battles then the Elites probably aren't green. Amoung humans this would mean he would be apathetic and less energetic, but with them it just means they're more expierienced and itching for revenge.
Still the plan wouldn't suffer much; especially if his team was as good as he knew it was. Sean keyed his radio to order the immediate assualt upon the gravlift. Suddenly one of the Elites dropped under sniper fire as rockets began racing towards the turrets. The explosions not only killed the turret operators but also the jakals who were still chasing the limping grunt around. His own rifle added fire to the chaos. Each stroke of the trigger brought the demise of at least one grunt. His assigned targets were completely anhilated when he shifted his fire to the last Elite who promptly dropped under fire.
There were no enimies left to kill death surged through the prisons doors and found more slaughter, and took great pleasure as he ripped through the grunts and jakals with only his hands and booted feet to use as weapons. He quickly dispatched his last oponnent and began searching for more blood to spill.
"Greg, stop, your gonna kill yourself!" yelled a voice behind him, but he was past that now past the point of heeding or caring about the caution. The corridor two his right soon attracted attention as the very same Elite who had captured him strode into view with a Plasma Sword ignited in his claw. The very same Elite had the gall, the sheer audacity to wear all his prized knives in the very sheathed he had designed for them.
With a bestial growl Greg sprinted foreward and lunged at the Elite who tried to sidestep and slash. Yet with an astounding display of agility He twisted midair, planted a foot and knocked the elite into the wall. The attack was followed by series of jabs that seemed to rock the entire ship.
"Hey Sean," whispered the squad sniper. When he turned the private went on "Did you feel that, the ship must be under attack. I dont think we even need to plant the bombs anymore."
After finishing the punishing series of jabs Greg twisted into a right hook and spun around and planted his left elbow into the Elites gut. He then reached foreward with his right hand and grabbed the sword straight from stunned warriors hand. After twisting through a back hook kick that sent the Elite further down the corridor; He quickly brought the Plasma Sword up into a gaurd position. The Elite managed to struggle up to its feet and after eyeing the dent in the wall tried to unsheath one of the knives he had taken. As soon as he had unsheathed the blade arks of energy ran up his arm forcing the alien to drop to its knees and scream.
Puzzled Greg drew up nearer as the other marines watched as he quietly slit the Elites throat with the Plasma Blade. He then stooped over and grabbed all six of the crystal knives that were takin from him. As soon as he touched them a sense of peace and calm fell over him. The mourning and rage that had consumed him fell away as if it would never return.
"Okay team lets get to the armory then we're gettin out of here," Greg suddenly said. His voice was no longer the beastly growl it had been since the deaths in the prison. Yet for those who were perceptice, or who knew him could discern as of yet unresolved issues.
"Oh so now he speaks!" laughed Sam.
"I thought he had lost his voice actually," added a smiling Spencer.
Then from the back they heard a whimper, when they turned around it was noneother then Daniel saying "Oh god plaese tell me that there arent more of them, I dont want to fight on land."
"Oh shut up... and STOP LOOKING AT MY ASS" yelled the femal sniper.
Greg just realized that he had no idea what her name was. He tried to remeber if she had ever said what her name was but drew a blank. "Hey I just had a question...what's your name" he said as she finally looked at him.
She smiled and said "Oh finally you said something to me. I'll tell you later our little friend here will probably stalkl me for the rest of my life if he hears it." She then jerked her head in Daniels direction to indcate who she was talking about. Then told us that we had been standing still for to long and had to move.
The Elite named for blood he had and had promised to spill heard of the captive the ship Enrelenting Fury had aboard and ordered his kill team to swiftly move in on the ship. If his query was aboard the ship it would soon be depleted of its warriors. Finally I will have collected the last of the blood I have promised to take. If only life were that simple in war.
Authors Note 2: Ya just more information first if the storylines confusing ask me to explain. You really dont want to go back and read my past works. Plus when Im done or abandon this story arc I will be using the same Characters give or take.