Monday, April 30, 2012

Ammo Fill


     He holstered his handgun. He snapped his head to the right, bringing his attention to oncoming gurgling and yelling. Cil raised his blaster rifle at a zelkin with a sword in his hand. He stood perfectly still waiting for him to get closer. The zelkin raised his sword and before it had time to swing down Cil took a big step forward and quickly swung the butt of his rifle up into the zelkin's face. It staggered back with a yelp, dropped his sword and held his nose in his hands. Cil dropped his rifle, grabbed the sword and trusted it into the zelkin's chest. At that moment he was tackled to the ground. The three hundred pound tackle knocked the breath out of him. He felt as if the weight of the world came down on him and pinned him to the ground. He struggled and tried to find a way out. “Redman...help.” he managed to say. He took a powerful blow to the rib cage. Cil slurred and choked. He felt the weight suddenly come off him. He spun on his back to see that a soldier had come to his rescue and fought him off. The soldier put a laser bullet in the zelkin's head.

     “Thanks.” Cil said.
“Don't mention it. Grab your gun and watch your ass.” he replied.
Cil did that exact thing. He fought the zelkin's next to his soldiers. Watched both his soldiers and zelkin die. How he never seems to catch the bad luck of death he will never know.

     At times he felt as if his 'good luck' of not catching the permanent sickness of death was a non-stop bad luck streak. It always seems like the world is out to get Cil Redman. After his wife and son were killed by the zelkins during a village raid he joined the Kalham army. It filled him with vengeance. Revenge became a necessity. Killing zelkins in the war doesn't fill the void, though. It doesn't feel as personal. It makes Cil feel like a worthless pawn in the Kalham's political game. Sometimes he felt death would be his only way of finding peace.

     “My rifle's running out of energy.” said a soldier to Cil's right.
“Follow up and don't slack behind.” Cil replied. He ran to the right, through his soldiers. He dropped to his side and slid behind a large rock. His soldier was by his side every second. Cil took the soldier's rifle and pushed a red button on the left side of the gun. A small black ball rolled out of the handle. Cil picked it up and raised his blast shield to see it with his own eyes. Cil didn't need to worry about drops of sweat stinging in his eyes for the soldier's battle suits all had built in air conditioning units. He rolled the tiny ball between his index finger and thumb. He then rolled it off away from the soldiers. Cil did the same thing with his rifle, but when the ball rolled from the gun to his hand it leaves a trail of blue gases. He put the blue ball of gas in the other soldier's rife and handed it to him.
“Sgt. Redman, what are you going to use?” the soldier asked.
“I'll make due with this.” he pulls his handgun out of the holster on his waist.


     “You're a life saver, Redman.”
He rushed out to the battlefield just to run in to a stray bullet. Cil lowered his blast shield to see that the soldier he just helped has now darkened into a lifeless, black, shell of a man. Somewhere a wife has lost a husband, somewhere a son has lost a father. That's life, death.

This is part three to my series Rogue Valor, the whole story can be found here.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Putting Them Down

     As nervous as he was, those words did not seem to bother Cil one bit at all. “Let us get out there and show these green-tail bastards what Kalham soldiers are made of.” he finished his speech, turned facing the outside and charged. Cil kept up with his group, the other platoons all took different directions to try and surround the zelkin. They went straight in.

The green from the battle rifles flashed in Cil's eyes. The technology of the blast shield tried to dim the lights of the guns and explosions. “Out of the way, look up! Move!” a soldier yelled. Cil looked up, a small speeder ship flew from the sky. It didn't shoot its guns nor fire missiles. Cil charged the left, getting out of the way. As the speeder ship hit the ground it erupted into a large orange and red flame. Parts of the ship went everywhere. Cil flew out and landed with a crash. He scrambled to his feet and looked to the right where he heard screaming. A fellow soldier was on his hands and knees crying out for help. A large shard of metal from the speeder ship shot through his back and out his stomach. Cil jogged over to him. “Cil! Help! I'm in so much pain!”

Cil just stood and stared. The color of blue from his comrade slowly started to darken. “I can't save you...” he said as he took his handgun from his side holster and raised it at the man's head.
“Cil, don't do this! Don't!”
“See you in another life, comrade.” Cil pulled the trigger. The flash of green went into his head and he instantly turned black. Cil lifted his blast shield to see his soldier with his own eyes. A hole was in the dead man's blast shield from the laser bullet. It dripped thick blood. Cil felt no guilt for what he did. Out of the many days he's spent about the battlefield, he's put down many allies. He's gotten used to it, killing his own.

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Afterword: This is episode two to my series Rogue Valor. You can read the whole story here:

Monday, April 2, 2012

Briefing

The sky was an eerie shade of orange, the sun rested behind the mountains on the horizon. The plains were filled with blood thirsty humans and zelkins like enraged ants on a stepped ant hill. The fields were so dusty that you could barely see out half a mile. The humans have been fighting the lizard-men species called the zelkin for years and years. It's been so long since the war started that the reason for fighting has turned into a vague memory by both the old, bed ridden, dying leaders of the armies.

Explosions went off almost every second from the plasma grenades that emitted a blue and purple flame. Screams and the zelkin language flooded the air of the rocky battlefield. Cold, green, and hot red blood stained the ground.

Four hover ships slowly lowered from the sky, carrying a company of human soldiers ready to defend their planet of Kalham. In one of the hover ships was a calm soldier sitting in his seat, (which hung off the wall of the ship) with his head down and his hands gripped on his rifle. His green and black metal power suit grew heavier the closer they got to the ground. This was his fourth time fighting in the war and it doesn't seem to get any easier. He looked around at the other nervous soldiers with their dark green metal torsos and black leggings. They all had the blast shields down on their helmets, trying to block themselves from the outside world. He was the only soldier sitting. “Sgt. Redman.” an officer called as he approached the sitting soldier. “Sgt. Cil Redman,” he called again. “on your feet soldier. We're on the ground in two.”

Cil put his blast shield on his helmet down. At first it was all black and dark then it turned on, not only giving him vision but enhanced vision at that. He stood up and looked around the ship. All the soldiers were illuminated blue. He could now see past their black blast shields and see every one of their nervous faces. The ship's tail slowly opened, a wave of dust and sand entered the ship.

The platoon leader stepped in front of the group of soldiers as they landed. “You will all fight.” he said quietly. He didn't need to yell over the jets of the ships, or sounds of the battle. Their helmets had built in microphones and speakers so they can talk without their throats getting raspy. “You will all fight,” he repeated. “you will all kill, you will all be heroes. But I cannot say you will all return. Some of you, or perhaps all of you will die.”

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Afterword: This is episode one of my series Rogue Valor. You will be able to read the entire series here:
http://sgtjake95.blogspot.com/p/rogue-valor.html