←  Writings

Fallout Studios Forums

»

The Terran Invasions Chapter I

General Kirkov's Photo General Kirkov 09 Nov 2009

Posted Image



The Terran Invasions Chapter I; A new threat

Part I


Staff Sgt. Michaels had just about enough with the Lt. who was boasting about his achievement in the final battle against the Progeny to his superiors who were talking promotions. Shit wouldn’t that suck the big one would it? And now that they were on a boarding vessel where no-one could frag the incompetent twat of an officer that they had landed for the remainder of their enlistment periods. The recycled air was getting nauseous, at least on the new Bastion class Dreadnought the air system was recycled with an ion engine. It was supposed to smell like the clean air of New Terra, the latest in a series of colonies the Republic had been setting up. Anyways a company of Spartans (Michaels unit) had been tasked to see what the fuck was going on with the ship, they hadn’t had any comms from them since the Progen rocket had hit it. The general consensus, was that it was some sort of systems disruptor and they hadn’t gotten the communication array back online yet; they were by far the most touchy of all pieces of equipment on vessels or on troopers for that matter (the later usually claimed they were broken when they got stupid orders making all sorts of noises before disconnecting the wires on the radios). So someone decided to send 120 infantry troops armed to the fucking teeth with plasma riffles, SMGs, GPMG “Pom Pom” machine guns, grenade launchers, turret kits, ammo dispensers, a few med kits and a VMTCS (virtual mobile tactical command system) or as was more commonly known as the command chair or just the chair. In essence it really was a chair where an officer or a senior NCO if all the officers were dead would close upon the man or woman sitting in it to reveal a multi-layer tactical map of the combat zone to direct troops via their tracking IDs and the headsets in their helmets so long as the area wasn’t too big they wouldn’t need a radioman to relay orders. It shouldn’t be a problem on the Bast, it was only 900 metres long and 250 across, a really ugly ship in fact, however it had three hangar bays 75 turrets and 8 torpedo launchers and a rumour said that it had a cloaking device. The problem was it had to lower its shields to allow the medical transports to bring the wounded into its hangars, which was precisely when it took the hit.

Captain Kural got up, (Several platoons had to be combined from multiple companies to form a full strength one, at least Kural was an excellent officer, everyone in this company would follow him to hell and back) this signalled the pre-docking sequence. They were going to “mate” with one of the rear hangars just a bit forward and above the engine and go in hot. Some of the men joked that they were going to find the crew and the wounded drunk off their asses in the hangars waiting for them some how the Staff Sergeant had a real bad feeling about this boarding but attributed it to the crappy air and smelly troops sweating in the hot ship strapping on their armour.

“5 seconds to mate with hangar doors” The Pilot informed the troops who were getting edgier by the second.
“Connection sealed! Good luck gents, bring me back a margarita if they still have some left”, he said as he inputted the outer door codes. “Outer door responds to code, and opens, opening boarding hatch” The troops got up and lined up for entry, weapons ready rounds in the chambers of their weapons, safeties off fingers off the triggers. “Inner hanger doors opening.” The hangar door opened, “Move troopers!” Their CO ordered. However instead of breathing fresh air, the entire hangar and cargo bay smelled of… blood.

____________________________________
This follows the prologue I wrote a while back on the forums, it was originally a fanfic I wrote for a Half Life mod which I'm redoing because I wrote it in 2003 and I feel I've gotten a tad better since then, so if you guys start recognizing stuff then that's where you saw it ;) anyways, I'm writing this until I get a new pic for the next MOF story; Infiltrators which is shaping up nicely in fact. Anyways I do appreciate comments and would really like some after this first part of 4 or 5 dunno how much I want to crunch in between parts since I do want some separation between sections of the stories which I'll keep rather short seeing as there will be quite a few.

Image header fixed.
Edited by General Kirkov, 10 November 2009 - 11:37.
Quote

General Kirkov's Photo General Kirkov 10 Nov 2009

Part II



The troops disembarked, to find navy troops missing limbs, with horror etched permanently on their faces or the wounded soldiers on stretchers who looked like they had been eaten alive, scorches on the walls indicated that a one sided firefight broke out and it looked like the Republic men and women lost, badly. On further inspection the walls seem to have been covered in a moss like substance and what seemed be a dog lay on the cold metal floor. Only it wasn’t a dog, it was much bigger, it had long and apparently sharp teeth, lots of them, half it’s head was missing it sported multiple holes in it’s body and instead of front legs it had a set of long very sharp bones or claws covered in blood. Many of the soldiers had puncture wounds in the chest, even scratches on the walls, could they climb walls? This was seriously FUBAR, big time.

“Ok spread out, close the inner hangar blast doors close us in for a while bring up the service elevator then lock it get those fucking turrets online and wake up stay frosty, they were caught by surprise and I’ll be damned if the same thing happens to us.” The captain ordered. The troops accustomed to carnage rolled the corpses down the service elevator shaft without a second thought before bringing it up and closing off the spacious room. “Next I want to find survivors if there are any in this room then well expand our control of the ship, I want my VMTCS up gentlemen, make it happen!” The captain barked. The engineers in the company took the VMTCS kit and brought it to the control room in the hangar to plug it into the computer to make it that more efficient and that’s when they stumbled on a survivor; a Lieutenant Colonel the ship’s second officer. He had a nasty scar across his face and one of the creatures was lying on top of him, dead, a massive hole from the back of it’s head was visible apparently from the man’s 14mm service pistol; they packed a pretty big punch. Medics were called and after the creature was pulled off him he let out a cough but didn’t seem much more for the wear, apart from seeing his men die around him as he was unable to do anything being pinned down like under the large creature, he was probably a tad fucked up.
“We have to destroy this ship! It’s completely overrun, kill as many of the bastards as we can!” He said almost on the verge of hysteria to captain Kurial.
“Calm down sir, this room is secure, I’m setting up my command chair and I’ll get an overview of your ship when that’s ready, meanwhile we are setting up auto turrets and manned 22mm heavy machine guns pointed towards that main door leading to the interior of the ship that we sealed off. We are safe right now. What happened here sir?”
“I was on the bridge while that medivac shuttle docked in the under hangar (situated underneath the ship to allow for bigger vessels) when we ran out of space in sickbay we brought the least wounded into the hangars to be evacked once the battle bellow was over. Then their missile hit, we laughed it off, it punctured the hull and we sealed the area off, didn’t explode or anything we thought we got lucky, some luck uh?” The officer seemed to conclude his story.
“How did you get here sir? This is almost 850 meters from the bridge and 5 decks down.” The captain continued, he needed more than that. The soldiers present, the ones not overly busy as most of the “base” was set up began to tune in on the conversation, the auto turrets were up and sweeping the area, the larger ones were manned with a metal shield installed to protect most of the gunner…
“They are smart, once the missile hit we sent a damage repair team from engineering to see what we could do about it, worrying about the warhead. Once they got there, it was one deck below us they reported the spread of that green shit in all over the deck, and it was much thicker than what we have here too several metres wide sometimes blocking entire corridors. The ship’s captain; brigadier general Ashley Dammar ordered torches to cut through it and when our chief engineer started cutting when one of those fuckers” he gestured to the monster on the deck “jumped him in the face and took it right off. No one was armed yet, we needed to get to the weapons lockers and pass out the SMGs and pistols, that’s all we have on ships.” He said and began to faze out.
“We know sir please we need to know more, how and why did you fight your way here?” The Captain urged him on, well the weapons lockers are about 100 meters from the hangars so myself and the first officer split up took a group of men to link up with our security troops to hunt them down he got ambushed near the lift for the power core and my group was attacked near the engineering room blast door, which had been left open. We fought them off and made for the hangar to hold out and wait for an evac. We handed weapons to the walking wounded and tried to get the hangar corridor access blast doors down but not in time, they were already crawling up the service elevator caught us all by surprise…”
A clicking sound was heard nearby and then another then the clicking was constant multiplying until you could here nothing else.
“What the fuck is that?” A nearby a trooper asked
“Death” The colonel said simply “That’s the sound of death.”
________________
Second part of this chapter now up, as per usual comment queries and death threats are welcome...
Quote

General Kirkov's Photo General Kirkov 16 Nov 2009

Part III


“Where is that sound coming from? I mean we sealed off the hangar didn’t we?” The unpopular Lt. Rogers asked, perhaps the most relevant question he had ever asked.
“I don’t know, I mean I doubt they made it through the door and the shield, the elevator is still in place… Did anyone check the vents or access tunnel from the engineering corridor?” The Naval officer asked.
“Vents?” Captain Kurial “Shit why didn’t we look for that, of course there’s going to be air or access vents. How do we close them?”
“You’re not going to like it captain…” The colonel said dejectedly, “The first one has to be closed from the outside, luckily it’s pretty solid, since it was designed to hold back an ion blast from an engine or a power core explosion, the second one has to be closed from inside the vents and the third has to be closed when both are from the control panel where you set up you’re CC.”

The troops looked at the open hole in the wall in the far end of the hangar, the heavy machine guns swivelled to cover it, the 22mm rounds were chambered by all the gunners simultaneously, luck was on their side since they could put so much lead at the gap, (the RMI or the Republic Munitions Industry) had yet to produce the burning plasma rounds for the high calibre weapon that most other weapons in their arsenal were firing. The problem was that they still needed to get out there and close the exterior hatch, which meant troops were going to have to be “volunteered” to exit through the main hangar access door, fight their way to the control panel hit the button, run back and hold position outside the access door until it could be closed and think of a plan; they couldn’t just sit tight in the hangar indefinitely, command would want them to investigate further Michaels could feel it. A missile got through and they would need to know how to deal with the problem if it hit something of importance. It looked like the CC was up and the captain plugged himself in and downloaded the schematics of the ship but concentrated on their immediate problem.

“Ok gents, they are almost here, machine gunners get ready and I need a platoon to try to secure that hatch, I want at least 1 HMG pointed down that way, get the auto turrets spooned up too, load their ammo boxes.” The captain ordered through the radio sets in the Mk V helmets that the soldiers in his company where securing tightly and looking at each other with a sense of dread. “I need a platoon CO to volunteer his men…”

“1 platoon standing by sir!” Rogers said 5 seconds after the order had been issued.
“Of course we are…” Pvt Heart said to the rest of the platoon assembled as she loaded her Sub-Machine gun with a 14mm 50 round side loading magazine that was interchangeable with her pistol mags. Most of the troops were trying to switch their rifles for them after seeing the damage dealt to the monsters from the colonel’s pistol. Fortunately or rather unfortunately most of the women who were more petite then the men got the lighter weapon. The Grenade-Launcher specialists were pretty happy as well as could be anyways given the situation loading up on various types of grenades. Staff Sergeant Michaels picked up a Shotgun and loaded his waist ammo belt with quick reload clips and slung a belt with individual shells over his shoulder earning a disapproving look from his Lt. but no comment was received as the brave or stupid man picked up a 7.62 Rifle and loaded his waist ammo belt with 5 mags of 30 rounds and equipped his chest armour plate with a tactical vest where he placed another 2 and 4 grenades. He apparently learned his lesson from his last engagement. The machine gunners were also loaded for bear, the “Pom Pom” dual barrelled General Purpose Machine Gun as it was affectionately nicknamed from the pom pom pom pom sound it made as weapon fired from its barrels in quick succession ate up the 200 round top loaded magazines like a chubby officer at a Regimental dinner with a buffet.

“Ok riflemen first, subies (the sub-machine-gunners) second, grenadiers and machine-gunners next, I’ll take point,” Michaels said, the platoon 2iC (second in command was supposed to go first with the officer going last, they were more valuable due to their training and being in overall command, a dead officer could fuck everything up.) “Sir, follow the machine gunners until we establish a position and fire base.”
“Sorry Sarge but I’d rather lead the men, along side you, and this is not open to discussion, grenadiers hold your fire until the sergeant or I tell you to launch, the control panel must be left intact,” Rogers ordered clearly wanting to get some more honours to secure his promotion he was more likely to get killed by an alien or fraged by one of his disgruntled troops, no-one liked suicide missions led by a wannabe hero.

The HMGs opened up all of a sudden as the aliens tried to breach the hangar. Unaware of the heavily defended room, they were being cut to pieces and continued to try for another 2 minutes until they realized the obvious and retreated, pulling their wounded and dead back, at least those who were mostly intact. A large portion of the attack force were just blue blooded pulps of their former selves.
“Ok they have pulled back from the vents and are returning to the engine room or down the far corridor, Rogers good luck out there, Kurial out.”
“Load and lock your weapons! Troops lets get that vent locked, I want a fire base pointing down the corridors, at the engine room hatch and at the vent itself. I don’t like surprises and I definitely don’t want anyone to be eaten out there!”
___________________________
Ok part 3 up! 2 More until the story continues leading up to part 3 of the Terran Invasions!

-edit- grammar and spelling
Edited by General Kirkov, 16 November 2009 - 15:59.
Quote

General Kirkov's Photo General Kirkov 21 Nov 2009

Part IV


The Corridor leading from the hangar had a bend before they came to the door, this allowed the strike team to ‘stack up.’ Everyone became tense as the order to open the door was given and the green light above the door switched to red and began flashing as it made an enormous amount of noise as it parted receding into the walls. Suddenly the unmistakable click click click of the alien fore claws approached the entrance, albeit more slowly than when they had rushed through the access vent. Michaels chambered a shell into his shotgun and all the troops pulled back the cocking mechanism of their weapons the riflemen took a knee with the subbies behind them as the machine gunners and grenadiers got ready to support the advancing platoon. A series of mad howls was heard from the corridors around the corner leading away from the hatch control panel.

“They’re moving on your position men, get ready!” The captain informed the soldiers in an uneasy tone only heard by the men ‘outside the wire’.

Without warning one of the creatures jumped at the group and was felled by Michaels shotgun, he chambered another shell; “Bring it mother fuckers!” And they came, a horde of the creatures skulking in the corners came from down the hall, crawling along the walls at a startling speed. Nobody held back on the trigger, sending thousands of bullets at the 30 or so aliens advancing despite the wounds they or their fallen comrades suffered. After 10 minutes it was over and any alien showing any sign of life was given a quick bullet to the head from the pistols. Platoon advanced covering the hallways on either side of the control panel and towards the engine room, where the moss like flora was abundant on down the wide ramp leading below, blocking or rather choking the gears of what seemed to be a platform went up and down the ramp, presumably to bring heavy supplies and equipment up and down to the engineering compartment. Next to the vent control panel large red lever was in the up position with a sign; “pull down to seal engine compartment” the soldiers looked up above the large entrance to see a heavy Tritanium hatch cover.
“Pull it, lets keep those bastards locked up in there.” Roger’s ordered looking to one of the riflemen.
“Sir that’s bound to create a shit load of noise, let’s get our objectives done one at a time, that may not be necessary.” Michaels warned.
“Bullshit, privates Wilson and Simmons cover that ramp with your rifles. Specialist Jenkins point that Grenade Launcher in the same direction. The rest of you continue to cover your arcs of fire.” The officer ordered.

While being a sound tactic in a conventional combat situation this was far from conventional, those things took 10 to 15 shots to bring down. If more than 5 came their way they would have a problem, odds are that there would be more than 5, a lot more than 5 down there and if the hatch came down and blocked them from exiting it would attract the attention of the others in the ship. Unseen by the officer and the rest of the platoon was a claxon and rotating lights that was set off when the lever was pulled.
“What’s going on?” Captain Kurial asked over the radio, upon getting the reply he sent 4 men into the access vents to cover it and close the interior hatch once the exterior one was shut. As the blast hatch came down far too slowly for the sergeant a creature about 7’ tall with claws for hands resembling those of their canine brethren had for paws. It almost glided up the ramp at an unimaginable speed sunk its claws in Wilson and Simmons pulling them down the ramp as the hatch closed and the alarm stopped. And that’s where everything went to shit, startled and shocked troops did not react fast enough were a rush of the skulks (a nickname for the four legged creatures given by an unnamed corporal) ate into the platoon killing and feeding on six while two made it into the as of yet unclosed vent. The veterans of the platoon snapped out of it and started gunning down the horde. The lieutenant seeing his command under attack turned to the control panel, slung his rifle and began to close the vent hatch. As he turned around an alien leaped through the air puncturing his armour in two places and bit into his neck killing him in less than 20 seconds. It was killed immediately thereafter by a submachine gunner, the aliens made their retreat under machinegun fire with a few grenades launched for good measure after them.

Meanwhile the four troopers made their way to the control panel next to where a Tritanium hatch would slide to block the way. “Hey you guys ever watch those old shows on disk our parents played for us?” One of the privates asked.
“Sure which one are you talking about?” Another asked more or less unaware of the gunfight going on outside and oblivious to the presence of the skulk around the next corner in the passageway.
“Umm I forget what it was called but they had you know tunnels like this called Jerry Tools…”
“Jeffries tubes.” The man in the rear corrected “From Star Trek I think”
“Right anyways they always sent guys without names and they got attacked, blown up or sucked into space or something”
“Cut that shit out, it’s freaky enough in here without you bringing that up…” The point man did not have time to finish his sentence before the hidden creature attacked him without killing him immediately the other three killed it and rushed for the panel before imputing the command to seal the second hatch. That task done they pulled the injured trooper back to the hangar where the Captain closed the final hatch leading into their base of operations.
______________

Put in a cultural reference but it's not too subtle anyways enjoy the before last segment of the first chapter which is part 2 of seven of an old revitalized series, the original piece being posted as the prologue with the rest re-done. An MOF story should come after this, if not we'll continue with the second chapter :)

Oh right comments are most welcome it's always nice to know if someone is enjoying the series or not, feedback is important since I plan on writting the other 5 parts over the comming months/year.
Edited by General Kirkov, 01 December 2009 - 17:41.
Quote

General Kirkov's Photo General Kirkov 30 Nov 2009

Part V

The remainder of Roger’s platoon fought a rear action fight back to the hangar meeting little resistance from the aliens who seemed content with their repelling of the enemy from what was likely the staging point in the takeover of the RWS Bast and thus a possible stronghold. The platoon or what remained of it was shaken up from the horde charge however a rumour of the bipedal creature floated amongst the men and when they returned amongst the assembled company that it was wearing combat boots…

The medics were working on the private who had been pulled out of the “Jeffries Tube” he seemed responsive and was likely to make it but service in the army was out of the question; his right arm was dangling from the tendons in his shoulder. Captain Kurial walked up to him to congratulate him and the other three soldiers for completing their objective in a grim tone before turning to the platoon now led by Michaels. They had suffered far more casualties to accomplish the key to securing the hangar bay.

“Sergeant, walk with me.” He said as a senior lieutenant climbed into the command chair. “I hear a rumour that some of your troops saw a creature wearing combat boots before it pulled Wilson and Simmons down to the engine room…”
“One of the grenadiers, the one covering the door saw his two friends get dragged down to a new circle of hell, he was hysterical and imagined it sir, probably…” Michaels responded.
“Well we have a problem, come to a security monitor we taped into I want to watch that attack in slow motion with you.” Kurial said in a guarded tone.

The monitor rolled back to the platoon holding position around the door when the trooper pulled the lever to seal the engine room. The lights began their rotating warning signal but the sound of the alarm and gunfire were thankfully silent as the security monitors only had video. Wilson and Simmons were seen firing at an advancing creature now moving in slow motion and on its feet combat boots well and properly laced up. Michaels pondered at how a creature with only claws for hands and a contorted face with long fangs could lace up the boots or even put them on for that matter? Why would they want to loot equipment? Then the grim answer was revealed, the creature while almost all alien including slit red eyes with bright yellow vertical pupils while its shoulders was not completely covered in a heavy green hide was growing over a Republic Naval Officer’s bars.

The camera was then switched to a view of the engine room itself, it showed the horizontal ion engine to the back of the room with the propulsion drive extending beyond the bulkheads with the controls for maintenance left untouched the maintenance hatches built over the grating. The engine was intact, that was lucky; had the engine have been compromised the stability of the ship would also be in question, that and it was overrun by a vicious carnivorous species which was unwilling to give even an inch without a bloody fight was also a bad thing. The room itself was also a mess; the familiar flora covering the walls and the ceilings was present, however unlike the corridors a large organic bulbous mass was suspended in the air by three thick tendons or arms. The moss was growing quickly around it securing it more stably to the ceiling of the room where what could only be described as an umbilical cord hung connected itself and was attached to the engine. It was a hideously large inverted womb sucking power from the ship to lay eggs on the floor of the room from a nozzle attached to a side of the massive organ which shuddered as an egg was laid. Along the wall were organic alcoves where soldiers who had not been killed outright were encased and had the same green skin growing over their bodies as electrical surges coming up through the engine via the umbilical cord, through its suspension from the ceiling down to the alcoves were the men were being transformed. Their faces were being elongated to accommodate fangs and the slit eyes. Their hands fell off and their bones were grown into claws.

“Sir, I see we have a problem.” Michaels said after staring at the egg laying organ for some time.
“Let’s hear it then. What kind of problem?” The captain replied
“Well more than one sir.”
“Start with one then continue down your list lieutenant”
Michaels saw that coming a mile away, not quite sure where that expression came from or why it was still in use, humans had adopted the metric system several centuries ago.

“Well you see how fast that thing is shitting down eggs? About 1 every 20 minutes most of them are small little green ones I’m going to go on a limb here and assume those are the origins of our little friends. However you see those medium orange ones? I’m not sure I want to see what will come out of those. Ok that’s my first worry.”
“Shit loads of hungry aliens?” The captain asked.
“Right, next we have our troops being reconstructed into some freaky Freddy Kruger monster, now unlike the naval officer who we seem to have brought down” he said pointing to a crumpled mass in the foetal position bleeding green and red blood in a corner. “That shit is growing over armour now, so in addition to that tough hide our bullets are going to go through armour designed to stop bullets and absorb energy blasts…”
“Great, any other observations?”
“Yes sir, we were attacked from multiple directions, and I don’t think they were just waiting around the corner for us, they might have more than one of those hives.”
“Well your right on that count Michaels, they have one growing over the power core in the center of the ship and another over the waste disposal tank feeding over all the raw organic material that a ship like this produces in a huge room with lots of space to breed more aliens.”
“Well we’ve done our job, let’s pull out and bring the colonel with us so he can debrief Republic Command and destroy this ship.” Michaels suggested.
“That’s not happening, Command wants us to secure the ship, it’s valuable, we are getting reinforced via the hangar bay on the other side of the engine room, well link up and clear this ship of this, this infestation.” The captain was not really convinced, “That hangar is clear and secured so they should be fine setting up.”
“One problem sir, to link up they will have to open their door, and waltz across the corridor of death until we move up!” Michaels responded.
“That’s the name of the corridor? It reads on the display as access corridor 3-A, let me correct that then.” Kurial said with a grim smile as he typed the new name in the control panel.
“Sir you have one fucked up sense of humour.”
__________________________________

Ok this chapter concluded I would appreciate some feedback seriously almost 200 views, anyways chapter two "Securing the RWS Bast" will continue after the next MOF episode which I'm trying to make a tad lighter. Anyways expect that to start after exam period.

~Kirkov

-edit- maths
Edited by General Kirkov, 01 December 2009 - 17:42.
Quote