StarDestroyer.Net BBS

This is the first installment of a short story I decided to fashion today. An original sci-fi setting. If people like this, I will post more - I'm thinking short chapters every two or three days. Please, post comments - even if scathingly critical

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The Insertion

The valley was dark, damp and covered with heavy vegetation. Grotesque trees towered high into the air, connected with vines as thick as a man’s arm. The underbrush was even worse – shrubs with huge, oily leaves interwoven with heavy grass, rotting organic matter and animal carcasses. All plants were pale red ; though breathable, the atmosphere reeked of sulfur and ammonia, and all of this, combined with opressive heat, formed together a surreal landscape, typical for equatorial jungles of L-21-834, one of the two barely inhabitable planets discovered in the last hundred years of human exploration.

And somewhere above this not-so-pleasant world, something strange was going on.

A small starship was speeding through the void, in low orbit above the planet. Just large enough to fit twelve men in full combat gear, it was more than a mere troop transport - obviously modified for some specialized purpose, it looked quite boxy, and two unusual rows of six airlocks lined both sides. A huge, massively disproportionate engine section stuck out far to the rear of the small crew compartment.

A second ship followed the first one, almost identical. They were only differentiated by pale white tactical numbers painted on their night-black hulls.

Inside the transport marked ‘01A’, a squad of twelve men occupied a space that looked unbelievably cramped. They sat at two lines of deep niches lining the sides of the vessel, with faces turned towards the middle. They wore heavy suits, aerodynamic, resembling a capsule more than a real space suit, which were thick enough that the silhouette of the man inside was nearly lost to an outside observer. The only thing that could be made out was an outline of the neck and shoulders, and a ridiculously oversized hump on the back. All suits were painted dark gray, and completely featureless. The suits restricted movement, and there was eerie silence inside the crew compartment. It seemed as if the ship did not carry men, but mummies, sleeping in their solid sarcophagi.

Something stirred suddenly, though. One of the suits trembled just slightly, and shifted awkwardly in its niche. The man inside looked around the compartment, peering through his visor – and saw his men waking up one by one.

Captain Anatoyli Korechkin considered what they were about to do quite routine, but it was the kind of routine that carried an inevitable risk of violent death with it. He was not particularly afraid, though the prospect did bring him certain discomfort. He checked his system readouts, and then his teammates’ too. Everything seemed to be in order. An automated clock started counting down in a removed corner of his vision. Two minutes.

There was more activity in the crew compartment now. Soldiers straightened out as much as they could inside their armored suits, cleared their throats and braced themselves. One minute.

Both ships raced throughout the void, one after another, invisible to radars of the US survey ship circling high above them. L-21-834 glistered below, its vast arid regions reflecting the first rays of the sun, which was just coming up over the horizon. It was cold in the void, and awfully quiet.

Ten seconds.

“You know, as much as we do that, I still hate it” - one of the soldiers exclaimed inside the transport when the clock hit two seconds. All twelve men laughed out loud at this remark, but they scarcely had the time to do anything else. For then, the ship’s retro engines ignited rapidly, jerking everyone inside with almost 5 Gs of deceleration – and, right thereafter, a loud buzz sounded, and with a sharp ‘bang’ of air rushing out of the crew compartment, all twelve airlocks opened, violently throwing the ship’s passengers outside - into the void, plummeting down towards the planet two hundred kilometers below.

Short, yes, but I like it. Lovely description, of both the jungle and the powersuits. I'm looking forward to seeing where you take it - lovely short chapters that are easy for a time strapped lad like me to read.

This one is somewhat longer - a bonus, if you may - and came up sooner than I've anticipated. I'll let it stand by itself.

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The Insertion, p.2

The valley was dark and damp, and the vegetation covered it in a thick canopy, almost impenetrable. The thick mass of pale red leaves only parted in the lowest part of the valley, next to a small, turbulent stream. From between the ragged trees, obscured by stinking vapors, a small dome could be seen protruding towards the sky. It was obviously a man-made structure,painted the same pale red color as the vegetation that surrounded it.

The dome was just the top of the proverbial iceberg, though. Should one come closer, a large, well fortified camp would reveal itself, lost between the trees and underbrush which seemed to try and reclaim this pitiful patch of dirt that was forcibly taken from the jungle for human habitation. The compound was surrounded by a high wall, electrified and riddled with sensors. Small, prefabricated housing units surrounded a large, more permanent structure that housed laboratories, the C&C room and a platoon of US OSF troops who protected the expedition. Out of the huge central building rose a tower containing the radar dome that betrayed the camp's presence in the first place.

It was very early in the morning, and thus the night shift was half-asleep at their stations in the C&C. Sustained by ordinary coffee – a beverage that resisted all replacements throughout last three centuries – two technicians wearing rust-colored field uniforms slouched at their control units, thick wires connecting them to otherwise unremarkable machines. Their job was to relay information between survey teams on the surface, the camp and the USS Magellan - the orbiting survey vessel. One of them monitored the myriad of sensors stations constantly monitoring the surrounding jungle.

Trough the sea of information flowing in and out of their brains, a single spike shot through like red ink. It was a high-priority message from the Magellan, with attached data. One of the techs snatched it with a mental command and opened it.

USS MAG REPORTING THRM BLOOMS LEO. BE ADVSD – BLOOMS CONS WITH ENGINE BURN. TWO CONTACTS T&OEL UNKNOWN.

The tech suddenly jerked up and quickly checked his radar readouts. Nothing. Thermal didn’t pick up anything either, and the perimeter wasn’t reporting any breaches. It might have been a sensor malfunction, but the Mag had electronics on board which were worth more than a light cruiser, and they just didn’t do that.

“Wake up the captain” – the tech turned his head to a sergeant standing guard in the C&C. The older, graying veteran of the Secret Wars knew better than to ask what was going on – he turned around and proceeded briskly to the captain’s bunk.

Orbit

The fall was quite pleasant, if disorienting. The sudden freedom, the world whirling all around, the magnificent stars, the red, glistening planet below – it was exciting and made any man feel invincible.

There was no radio chatter, no comms at all, not even through the encrypted battle link. Anatoyli could see four of his men – he though they were his Siberian EW specialists and that goddamned French sniper – a little bit above himself, and only because light reflecting off the planet made their suits glisten just slightly. Before he could locate the rest of his team, his suit computer took control and positioned him properly, venting small bursts of compressed air. Their orbital trajectory was very flat, but any error during re-entry could result in a hot and violent death.

Both transports whizzed past them suddenly, having burned their engines for a split-second in order to get back onto a stable orbit. They would coast, completely cold, until the planet obscured them from American radars and sensors, at which point they’d rendezvous with the HMS Duke Of York. But for now, Anatoyli had more pressing concerns.

The wonderful feeling of weightlessness was gone now. His suit became rigid and completely blocked all movement. The team was spread out now, so that every single one of them could enter the atmosphere safely. A small bump at these speeds would easily kill both men involved.

For a long while, nothing happened…and then, suddenly, the planet started rushing towards Anatoyli and his men. And then, without warning, they hit the atmosphere and the screens started launching.

Each suit contained in its oversized hump almost sixty thermal screens made of thin, thermal-resistant cloth. They were launched in succession, one after another, to shield the man plowing right behind them into a dense atmosphere, who was separated from overheated plasma only by a thin protective layer, which would be woefully inadequate during the first re-entry stage if it was to stop the user from getting boiled alive inside his overpriced OALO jump-suit.

Thermal screens were firing and burning up almost as fast as they could unfold. A thick metal shield came down on the visor of Anatolyi’s suit, and from now on, he could only trust technology to pull him through this. His altimeter started counting down to the surface, and the roar of burning air rushing past him was becoming unbearable.

One hundred kilometers. Most of the screens were gone, and the inside of every suit was now an oven. Fear was starting to set in – in every jump like this, there was a small chance the suits would fail horribly, allowing burning air to get inside, boiling lungs, eyes and blood of their users. It was a horrible death, and every jumper feared it more than anything else.

Anatoyli was lucky, apparently. He survived the worst of it, and now, without his thermal screens, he picked up speed and was roaring down towards the surface, surrounded by a bubble of burning air. His thick suit was melting in places, ablating at a horrible pace, but the temperature was dropping now. He could not look behind, but his men were there, dropping at intervals of six kilometers.

Suddenly, one of the suits had failed. Overheated air tore inside, and the joker who commented how he didn’t like jumping was immolated inside his suit. In an instant, his equipment broke apart and exploded, leaving only a trail of fast-burning debris, careening towards the ground. None of his comrades noticed just yet, as he was the last in line, and his horrifying screams were obviously all but inaudible to anyone but himself.

Sixty kilometers. The visors opened suddenly, and a magnificent view appeared before the jumpers. The planet was below them, glistening in the morning sun. Pale red plants formed a coat over half the visible continent, with oceans reflecting sunlight like perfect mirrors. Clouds decorated the landscape, dotting it here and there. The shaking, the roaring and unbearable heat was gone, and peaceful freefall was all that remained.

Ten kilometers. Explosive bolts threw away the half-melted heavy armor, which by now resembled lava more than metal. Below the suits, every soldier wore a skintight black jumpsuit. Parachute backpacks were revealed, up till now concealed under the humps. Every man was also equipped with a breathing apparatus with some oxygen, a knife and a sidearm, secured snugly to the right leg.

They opened their parachutes low above the jungle, to avoid detection. Gliding gracefully, they splashed, one after another, into the water near the shore. Equipment containers landed right after them, on target for a change. They floated to the surface immediately.

Anatoyli landed first. He immediately undid his parachute, aiding himself with his knife. Then he carefully cut a small patch, marked in bright red,from the smart fabric, which caused it to shrivel into a ball and sink immediately, like a rock. He swam to the nearest equipment container and repeated the procedure on its parachute, and then proceeded to haul it towards the shore. His men were splashing into the water around him, and as he counted, he noticed they were one short. It was no use asking anyone what happened - it was obvious. Burning debris of his suit would probably fall into the ocean soon enough.

On the shore, a thick, steaming jungle menaced them. The stale air smelled of putrid chemicals, as if the planet itself wanted to tell the humans it didn't want them here.

Please, post comments - even if scathingly critical.

"He tasks me. He tasks me, and I shall have him."

Well, I don't do 'scathing', but I'll try to throw in a few "...dumbass"; how's that work?

All that follows is just my own thoughts; feel free to ignore or utilize as you see fit. (The examples I give are just how I, personally, would write a given sentence or scene; you shouldn't feel any compunction to do it that way).

[loads revolver, whistles innocently]

Huge trees sprang up from the ground at impossible, psychedelic angles....

This word makes no sense in context; the trees are rising up at 'hallucinatory state' angles? If you're trying to get across the surrealism of the scene, it might be better to include such a description "overview":

i.e. "The entire valley was choked with unnatural growth, the thick chemical scent in the air, the heat and the grotesque fauna all combining to defy and deceive the senses".

The vegetation was colored a pale red ; the atmosphere stank of sulfur and ammonia, despite being breathable.

This is an indirect sentence (oblivion knows I'm guilty of enough of them myself); firstly, you don't need the 'coloured'; it makes it sound like it's been artificial done. Secondly, you should lead that second section with 'despite being breathable'. If the air smells that bad, you should probably throw in a further note about its toxicity if you're trying to convoy how 'wrong' this place is, that its barely breathable, or there's no discernible reason for the stench - whichever.

And somewhere above this not-so-pleasant world, something unnatural and strange was going on.

You don't need both of these; they're redudant. 'Decidely unnatural' would be one way to convey the oddity aspect, but there's plenty others. Abnormal, out of the ordinary, etc.

...it was more than a mere troop transport.

Then what is it? The second sentence describes the craft, but it doesn't tell us what it is. It's a jarring progression:

"Check out my sweet new boat!"

"Oh, she's a fine yacht."

"Pssht. She's not a yacht."

"Oh, then what-"

"Got some nice-ass decaling on her and check out her propellers!"

"Yeah, but what is she?"

A second ship followed the first one, identical to the first one. Both were painted black, and only pale-white tactical numbers differentiated them from each other.

That's redundant, since you just used the very term in the same sentence. "Sister ship", "comrade", "companion", "fellow", etc.

You just said that they were identical. Try to combine the sentences:

i.e. "...identical to the leading vessel, save for the ghostly white serial numbers that marred their otherwise night-black hulls."

Inside the transport marked ‘01A’, a squad of twelve men occupied a space that was definitely too small for them.

You said that the ship was designed to hold twelve men in power armour - how could it be too small for them, then?

They sat with their faces towards the middle of the crew section...

Is this really an important detail? If you want to describe the interior layout of the shuttle, you may want to try something a little more descriptive.

i.e. "Half a dozen seats lined each side of the vessel's interior, each of the men looking into the visor of the soldier across from him. Their suits...."

There was eerie silence in the crew compartment, and no movement either, as the suits restricted it.

Indirect sentence. "The suits restricted movement, the stillness and the silence of the occupants...."

It seemed as if the ship did not carry men, but mummies, encased forever in their solid sarcophagi.

I like this metaphor.

But something stirred, as if without prompting.

Try not to start sentences - certainly not paragraphs - with 'but'. Dialogue's forgivable, since people do talk like that, but otherwise it's a minor sin of writing (it's one I've committed more than a few times myself).

Also, it's not clear what you're going for. You've already said that the bay is silent and still, so that there's no prompting is assumed by the reader. You've also just said that the suits restrict movement and yet we've got shuffling and shifting going on.

You may want something a bit more dynamic - which, granted, is hard to do with guys waking up in blocky power armour.

i.e. "Interrupting the preternatural stillness, one of the figures shifted, joined shortly by the other men, his command rousing themselves from..."

That's all I've got for the first chapter; short, but it's intriguing so far.

~

And now the second - regretting asking for concrit yet?

The valley was dark and damp, and the vegetation covered it in a thick carpet, almost impenetrable.

Unless you're drawing a parallel (in which case, I look like an idiot), it's probably not a good idea to start the chapter the same way as the first.

Also, another indirect sentence.

...and it sounds like you mean 'canopy', rather than 'carpet'.

Painted the same pale red color as the vegetation that surrounded it, it was obviously a man-made structure.

Indirect sentence.

...you hate me now, don't you?

Out of the huge central building rose the tower containing the radar dome which was the only thing to rise above the treetops.

Is there more than one tower? If not, you could get away with 'a'.

Trade this second bit for a comma.

Try something more descriptive then 'thing'. Also, if it's above the treetops, shouldn't it have been noticed in the above paragraph where the dome was what led the reader/oberserves to the camp?

Sustained by ordinary coffee....

Just 'coffee' will do, since there's nothing to make us assume that there's hypercaffeination or whatever and the reader's going to assume that it's ordinary.

and the orbiting survey vessel – the USS “Magellan”

Put Magellan at the beginning of this section: "...and the USS Magellan, the orbiting survey vessel.

Italicize ship names.

It was a high-priority message from the “Magellan”, with attached data.

Italicize ship names.

...it felt a bit like pouring out a sack of grain inside your frontal lobes.

This seems superfluous; we don't need to know at this moment what mental file manipulation feels like.

...any error during re-entry could result in a very hot and very violent death.

You can probably squelch those together into "very unpleasant".

Each suit contained in its oversized hump almost sixty thermal screens made of thin, thermal-resistant cloth. They were launched in succession, one after another, to shield the man plowing right behind them into a dense atmosphere, separated from overheated plasma only by a thin layer of thermal shielding, which would be woefully inadequate to protect him during the first re-entry stage from getting boiled alive inside his overpriced OALO jump-suit.

Thermal screens were firing and burning up almost as fast as they could unfold. A thick metal screen came down on the visor of Anatolyi’s suit, and from now on, he could only trust technology to pull him through this. His altimeter started counting down to the surface, and the roar of burning air rushing past him was becoming unbearable.

I like this part here.

But, you just used 'screen' in the previous sentence. 'Shield', 'protective plate', etc.

Suddenly, one of the suits has failed. With a horrible scream, inaudible over the roar of re-entry, the joker who commented how he didn’t like jumping was immolated inside his suit.

I think that was just a typo.

If it's inaudible, how does anyone - the reader or Anatoyli - know about it? 'almost inaudible', 'nearly....', 'all but....' etc.,

Explosive bolts threw away the heavy armor, now half-melted...

Indirect - "half-melted heavy armour" would serve better here.

They opened their parachutes low above the jungle, to avoid detection.

How does this help?

...and cut it in just the right place with his knife.

This is superfluous; "(easily/quickly) cut himself free" is more to the point.

...he noticed they lacked one.

This is clumsy. "they were a man light", "the joker was missing", "his squad had lost someone on re-entry."

Which brings us back to an earlier point; if he didn't hear the dying man's scream, then there's no point in mentioning it. If he did, then he wouldn't be surprised.

He nodded to himself, understanding what has probably happened.

"had"

And you've mentioned that he's a veteran and that some jumpers are lost every insertion; it's unlikely that he'd consider there to be any "probably" about it.

...and a stink of sulfur and ammonia hanged low in the stale air.

You've mentioned this a few times already; you should consider a different way of phrasing it.

i.e. "...the stale air stunk of acrid chemicals and if not for his helmet, Anatoyli's eyes would have watered."

You really hate me now, don't you?

Well, take my ramblings for whatever they're worth.

But, this is an intriguing story so far. Looking forward to see what happens.

Why do you assume I hate you for this detailed analysis of mistakes in my writing style? You took the time to read through the story and compile your post - I can only thank you for that and get to fixing up the mistakes. Your suggestions do make the story flow better, so...thanks a huge lot

Oh, and as for the only two comments I kinda don't agree with/have to explain further.

Bladed_Crescent wrote:

PeZook wrote:
They opened their parachutes low above the jungle, to avoid detection.

How does this help?

It helps in that the closer to the ground they are when they open, the shorter the time they are hanging below huge pieces of cloth visible for kilometers around the landing zone. This is a world where UAV's are plentiful, cheap, intelligent and long-ranged, so even landing far away from your target requires extreme caution if you don't want to be detected.

Bladed_Crescent wrote:

PeZook wrote:
...and cut it in just the right place with his knife.

This is superfluous; "(easily/quickly) cut himself free" is more to the point.

Well, it's obvious the sentence didn't get across what I was trying to express

What I meant was that when the fabric is cut in the proper place, it starts shrivelling and clumping together, soaks up water and sinks, because it's programmed that way. It's so that you can get rid of the parachute quickly. I will have to explain it differently.

Why do you assume I hate you for this detailed analysis of mistakes in my writing style?

It's a defence mechanism caused by exposure to GAFF, Fanfiction.net and Fictionpress.

Shrill, Deceptive Harrdidan: "R&R please k thanks!"

Hapless Dupe (aka me): "Well, it's a good story, but you should think about changing X, Y Z."

SDH: "You $#%@! I've got this many reviews and you don't, you $#%#$!"

Or, my favorite: "I wasn't asking for that kind of criticism!"

Makes Hulk's head hurt. Then Hulk get angry. Hulk have to buy a new computer after that.

...thanks a huge lot

You're quite welcome.

It helps in that the closer to the ground they are when they open, the shorter the time they are hanging below huge pieces of cloth visible for kilometers around the landing zone.This is a world where UAV's are plentiful, cheap, intelligent and long-ranged, so even landing far away from your target requires extreme caution if you don't want to be detected.

I figured something like that, but I was curious since Anatoyli and his men just came crashing through the atmosphere, trailing smoke and fire. It seems (at least to me) a little glider would be the least conscipuous part of their entry.

"Hmm... got a dozen columns of smoke, nothing to report about tha- HOLY SHIT, there's parachutes!"

What I meant was that when the fabric is cut in the proper place, it starts shrivelling and clumping together, soaks up water and sinks, because it's programmed that way. It's so that you can get rid of the parachute quickly.

Ah, okay. Yeah, I had no idea about that.

Bladed_Crescent wrote:It's a defence mechanism caused by exposure to GAFF, Fanfiction.net and Fictionpress.

Shrill, Deceptive Harrdidan: "R&R please k thanks!"

Hapless Dupe (aka me): "Well, it's a good story, but you should think about changing X, Y Z."

SDH: "You $#%@! I've got this many reviews and you don't, you $#%#$!"

Or, my favorite: "I wasn't asking for that kind of criticism!"

Makes Hulk's head hurt. Then Hulk get angry. Hulk have to buy a new computer after that.

Ugh. I'd be cautious too after experiences like these

I figured something like that, but I was curious since Anatoyli and his men just came crashing through the atmosphere, trailing smoke and fire. It seems (at least to me) a little glider would be the least conscipuous part of their entry.

"Hmm... got a dozen columns of smoke, nothing to report about tha- HOLY SHIT, there's parachutes!"

The basic idea is that they go in, and since Americans don't have a very tight air control network (one small radar, used mostly for guiding UAVs in), they slip by unnoticed. At dawn you won't see them with the naked eye, and they're too far for thermal sensors in the base. Plus, while they're racing through the atmosphere at terminal velocity, UAVs can't actually shoot them, whereas when they're dangling under parachutes they can be basically picked off one by one by a single armed drone that happens to wander by.

Of course,there's the survey ship loaded with ridiculously expensive equipment that may pose a little bit of a problem, but, well...no plan survives contact with the enemy, right?

Bladed_Crescent wrote:Ah, okay. Yeah, I had no idea about that.

Yeah, that much was obvious I will have to rewrite the passage, it feels kinda rushed.

Bladed_Crescent wrote:

Why do you assume I hate you for this detailed analysis of mistakes in my writing style?

It's a defence mechanism caused by exposure to GAFF, Fanfiction.net and Fictionpress.

Obviously, but SDN isn't filled with total lamers.

So we know on one side we have the Americans, and I'm assuming some sort of super EU turned psuedo-monarchy?

Ford Prefect wrote: So we know on one side we have the Americans, and I'm assuming some sort of super EU turned psuedo-monarchy?

Not a pseudo-monarchy, but a close federation of countries with a shared military, their own colonies, a powerful (enough) starfleet and a significant (if temporary) tech advantage. Russia is part of this alliance, obviously.

Americans are actually the US, Canadians and Mexican cannon fo...uhh...auxilliaries

Well, they are coming up quite fast. It's entirely possible it will be concluded by the end of the month.

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The Approach, p.1

The C&C was filling up now. Technicians slowly manned their stations for yet another day of managing survey teams that were scheduled to leave the compound soon, to continue their data-gathering around the valley – it would seem routine if not for the fact that all officers from the expedition’s OSF security platoon were gathered in the C&C as well, and obviously agitated.

Captain Miles Henderson was roused an hour ago by a very concerned sergeant from the night shift. The sergeant's looks was an obvious indicator that something was up, and it was certainly unusual to wake his commanding officer so early before the morning briefings. They came into the C&C together, and after reviewing the technician’s report, all OSF officers were called in.

The captain was a short man, with a quite large bald patch on the top of his head, and a pleasant, non-menacing face. The way he looked made him the antithesis of the way people usually imagined a grizzled veteran officer – but he was a smart man, who’s seen his share of combat during the Secret War - and survived. It was an inside joke between vets that surviving was something of an unusual thing in the Secret War, since survivors weren't as good for OPSEC as dead bodies.

“Gentlemen, I think we can expect visitors soon” – Henderson started – “Big Maggie detected some suspicious thermal blooms in orbit, consistent with engines firing. I think this means somebody just inserted a covert team onto the planet.”

Henderson grabbed a video file the table - one they had just received from the Magellan - and opened it. The image of the sensor feed appeared in the air between the gathered men, and they could all observe two brief flashes of thermal energy above the planet. The time clock in the corner put the time at 90 standard minutes ago.

“The interval between one and the other was about twenty seconds. Probably transports, first slowing down, dropping whatever it was they dropped, and then boosting themselves back up to a stable trajectory.” – Henderson looked at his officers. There were three of them all in all – necessary for managing this entire operation.

Trudy Fields, a tall, thin red-headed Californian, was Henderson’s second in command. Observant and quick to act, she was working with his team practically forever. She was a jumper, too, with one combat jump under her belt, and Henderson liked that – Jumpers could make decisions fast, and they typically made the right ones.

Then there were two men – Lieutenant Foucauld was a Canadian, his name a legacy of the long forgotten French-speaking Quebec province. Reserves and cautious, he was responsible for making sure their weapons and equipment worked fine.

The last officer, standing the furthest to Henderson’s left, was Mexican in origin, American in upbringing and mannerisms. Carl Sanchez-Barret served perhaps the most important role of all – he co-ordinated all the various drones and sensors that were always used by any OSF team, and made sure information was feeded to whoever needed it at the moment.

“The fact they burned in plain view like that means they probably didn’t know about the Magellan.” – Fields noted – “We should establish a real-time link and tell her crew to look for anything suspicious, maybe the enemy will make a second mistake like that.”

Henderson nodded in agreement and motioned for one of the technicians responsible for comms – “Do it right now”. The tech nodded and turned back to his console.
“I think we all agree with you, Sir. Where do you want us?” – Sanchez cut to the point, since it was obvious nobody had any objections to Henderson’s assessment of the situation.

“All right, then. Carl, I want our day drone shift in the air immediately, and teams to deploy additional sensors on the perimeter. You’ll be responsible for co-ordinating the search with the Magellan. I want you to check the valley’s crests especially, and the sea shore.” – the mission’s EW specialist exclaimed a sharp “Yes sir!”.

“Matt, go around the compound and make sure all our defenses are in working condition. Double check if necessary. If they find us and try anything, I want whoever they are to be shot to shreds.”

Landing site

They worked fast now, guiding equipment canisters to the shore, opening them and distributing gear. Nobody spoke a word beyond what was necessary, and the rising sun only prompted them to try and finish everything even faster. In the jungle lay temporary safety from prying eyes, and the oppressive heat would shield them just fine from thermal imagers, too.

There was a lot of work to be done and very little time. Even though there were only eleven men in the jump-team, they carried a stunning array of equipment. First they had to change into their camouflaged field uniforms, which would also protect them from insects and heat. Then they donned the webbing, the backpacks and all the other gear that soldiers carried since the beginning of warfare. Then the weapons – which had to be extracted from their canisters, checked for damage, cleaned and loaded. Then support equipment, sensors and a hundred other things. Nobody thought much about their dead comrade – there would be time for mourning later.

Each soldier, when fully equipped, wore an incredible amount of gear. Their uniforms were covered in a rust-red camouflage pattern that had some limited ability to adapt to surrounding terrain. On top of that, they wore webbing and backpacks which housed spare magazines for their rifles and handguns, food and survival gear, batteries and spare parts. Body armor was worn under that, and was relatively light, despite covering the chest, thighs and shoulders. A skintight thermoregulatory jumpsuit was worn as underwear.

The helmets were simple designs, perfected over centuries. They provided good ventilation and field of vision, and were equipped with attachment points that aided in holding sensor-packs and breathing masks. Most of the team donned their masks as soon as they pulled the helmets out of the containers – they helped with the smell a bit.

Anatoyli looked at his comrades as they carefully checked their equipment . He only had eleven men now, and that meant someone would have to carry extra gear. Normally, his team would be divided into two four-man rifle sections, a sniper element and two drone control & electronic warfare specialists who didn’t participate in actual combat. Aleksander was an EW specialist before he burned up, so there were several UAVs and a control unit to distribute amongst his men. Both his snipers couldn’t carry anything more than they already did, so it was up to the riflemen to haul round all the delicate equipment.

And there were other matters to take care of, too. Fortunately, within thirty minutes, Anatoyli managed to get half his unit combat-ready and fully geared up, with only minor preparations still necessary.

“Misha, take the containers and bury them. Filipp, help him.” – He directed two of his riflemen to hide the evidence of their landing. His French sniper – and his German spotter, an unlikely pair if there ever was one – tightened his pack, hopped up and down a few times – to make sure nothing made undue noise and reported his readiness. Anatoyli nodded, studying his helmet display, which showed orbital photographs of the area.

“I want you two to move ahead of the rest of us and find a good site to make camp, one that overlooks the valley. We’ll move out in five minutes and follow you.”

“Da, kapitan.” – the Frenchman spoke Russian with a hilarious accent, but insisted on doing that rather than forcing the tight-knit team to communicate in English. Him and his colleague donned their sensor-packs and disappeared between the trees, stirring up a group of large, disgusting insects.

Anatoyli turned to his corporals next. They were still relatively inexperienced, and the surreal looks of this planet made them uneasy.

“We will have to move slowly at first. Remember that the opponent knows this place better than we do, and there will probably be drones circling above us throughout the day. We’ll move separately, by sections. Gorya goes with my section. ” – Gorya was their second (and only) surviving EW specialist - "Remember - this place is strange, but the Spetznaz has been through worse. Stick together, be observant. It works everywhere, even here." - both corporals nodded agreement, but it was hard to put anybody completely at ease in this place. Anatoyli donned his own breathing mask, and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He looked at the menacing junglethat lay before them.

All the plans were made now. All they had to do was negotiate fifty kilometers of incredibly rough terrain and establish an observation camp right next to the enemy’s nest. In the distance, the sun was coming up – and in the valley, the stinking fumes stirred, carrying the sound of American drones as they were catapulted into the air.

Is there any particular reason why your putting your dialogue in italics?

TWO CONTACTS T&OEL UNKNOWN.

T means target, right? What does that phrase mean? It's the only criticism I can come up with, and it isn't even directed at you--I just don't know that one thing. I got the rest of the message just fine though.

Oh shit, I've left this tab open too long! I should have refreshed before commenting.

Well, I have one nitpick, and that's the 'forgotten French-speaking province of Quebec.' We have enough trouble with those seperatists, I don't need you stoking their fears!

This story is excellent, I hope there will be more in the universe in the future?

We can call it the PeZook-verse, or something like.

Ford Prefect wrote:Is there any particular reason why your putting your dialogue in italics?

Well, I can easily change this. I was aiming for making it stand out a little from the rest of the text.

Phantasee wrote:

TWO CONTACTS T&OEL UNKNOWN.

T means target, right? What does that phrase mean? It's the only criticism I can come up with, and it isn't even directed at you--I just don't know that one thing. I got the rest of the message just fine though.

Well, I didn't really expect people to get this, it was intentionally vague.

It means Trajectory & Other ELements (as in: orbital elements). The Mag is indicating the burns were too short to figure out a trajectory of the contacts. They have a rough idea, though - after all, they were low enough for a short burn to put their tajectory inside the atmosphere - But without knowing the mass and initial vectors they really can't get enough data for a targeting solution.

Phantasee wrote:Well, I have one nitpick, and that's the 'forgotten French-speaking province of Quebec.' We have enough trouble with those seperatists, I don't need you stoking their fears!

Appeasement is evil

Phantasee wrote:This story is excellent, I hope there will be more in the universe in the future?

We can call it the PeZook-verse, or something like.

I'm actually developing this universe in order to publish it in the form of an RPG system. But that's a goal for the future - right now, I'm making up such short stories to explore and flesh out some of its aspects - you can clearly see that I just love my idea of re-entry jump troops So yeah, you can expect more in the future after this one's concluded.

PeZook wrote:

Ford Prefect wrote:Is there any particular reason why your putting your dialogue in italics?

Well, I can easily change this. I was aiming for making it stand out a little from the rest of the text.

That's what these " " are for, my friend. You can use italics (and bolding if you're adventurous) to indicate emphasis on certain parts of speech, though.

PeZook wrote:

Phantasee wrote:Well, I have one nitpick, and that's the 'forgotten French-speaking province of Quebec.' We have enough trouble with those seperatists, I don't need you stoking their fears!

Appeasement is evil

Tell that to Neville Cham...nevermind. But it doesn't help if you go on making alternate futures where they disappear! That's what they keep whining about!

PeZook wrote:I'm actually developing this universe in order to publish it in the form of an RPG system. But that's a goal for the future - right now, I'm making up such short stories to explore and flesh out some of its aspects - you can clearly see that I just love my idea of re-entry jump troops So yeah, you can expect more in the future after this one's concluded.

Excellent!

EDIT: Oh, and I forgot to mention, thanks for explaining the cryptic message. I hate it when I think someone might know what it is I read, but I don't. Even if the only person who knows is the author.

Very detailed backstory to the message, perhaps you could incorporate it into the story? Like the tech deciphering it in his mind?

Just a quick update on the project: I have edited the last chapter a bit, removing italics from dialogue, rewriting some parts and removing the more ridiculous errors. In addition, I decided to change the Magellan's nickname to Big Maggie. Sounds better than just Mag, IMHO.

I will post the next part on Monday, since I'm going away on business. I think the entire story will be concluded in four or five chapters, two posts each. That's an estimate, though, nothing concrete.

Aww, I liked Mag.

Oh wow. I feel that feeling I get when I'm reading a good story, and I don't know if there's anything else to read after it, and I'm getting near the end...

I hate reading to the end of a series. The last chapter always ends up feeling like a funeral.

Phantasee wrote:Aww, I liked Mag.

Really? Well, I can be convinced to change that back. Maybe I'll make a poll about it or something

Phantasee wrote:Oh wow. I feel that feeling I get when I'm reading a good story, and I don't know if there's anything else to read after it, and I'm getting near the end...

I hate reading to the end of a series. The last chapter always ends up feeling like a funeral.

Relax, the climax hasn't even been set up just yet. There's still plenty to go

The next installment is about half-done. I had to write it at the hotel when I'm not working, so it's taking quite some time.

Ding dong, and I am back. It has some action here, but I wonder if I managed to describe it clearly enough. As usual, comments are welcome, and thourough comments (I'm looking at you, Bladed_Crescent) are adored

---------------------------------------------

The Approach, p.2

All sides in the Secret War were in a strange position with respect to their enemy. No formal state of war actually existed between any of the participants - In the populated systems, citizens from all warring countries engaged in trade, travel, even marriage – and out there, on the frontier, a ruthless conflict was being fought. For this reason every engagement had to be very carefully conducted. Open warfare was too scary a prospect – after all, the Earth’s orbit was full of armed satellites that could strike at any point in the globe with impunity. It was entirely possible that when the Secret War erupted into an open conflict, hundreds of millions of people would die in its opening minutes. And, since every starpower had a fleet of armed starships, billions could be killed in later attacks on populated systems.

Despite of all that, the prospect of widespread destruction and death did not seem to outweigh common greed. Current political situation was a stalemate – no power could hope to achieve a decisive advantage over another in war. No surprise attack could cripple the enemy fleet without threat of retaliation, fleet numbers were similar and industrial might of any one starpower did not outmatch any other one. This is why the Secret War was being waged – to gain supremacy in technology, intelligence or industry. Victory for one side could very possibly spell death for its enemies.

One kind of operation attempted quite often were expeditions that were supposed to locate worlds fit for human colonization. Hopefully, the starpower that managed to colonize and industrialize an additional world would gain a huge industrial and population advantage in the prospect of a hundred years. Also, if the location of such a world could somehow be kept secret, no other side could hope to strike it and ever defeat their enemy completely. Unfortunately, such expeditions were frustratingly ineffective – in the last century, only two new worlds were discovered that had any hope of sustaining a significant human population – one of them was L-21-834.

Of course, the significance of such a discovery meant that no side could allow another to actually survey and colonize a new world. Anatoyli’s mission was related to that – though at this stage, they were tasked strictly with reconneisance. While the Duke Of York could effortlessly annihilate the survey camp from orbit, the nature of the Secret War demanded care. If Americans decided not to colonize the planet, there was no need for violence. And to be honest, not a single soldier in Anatoyli’s Spetznaz team thought Americans would actually want to live in this stinking hole. For now, though, they had their mission, and they had to complete it.

The jungle was dense, and as the Spetznaz found – treacherous. While insects were not a problem – they didn’t even try to bite any of them– their way was riddled with sharp inclines, hidden holes, dead trees blocking the way and extremely dense foliage. The underbrush vented stinking steam into the air, which made it very hard to breathe without a mask. Thick leaves left oily smears on uniforms and gear - they stank of ammonia and somehow always found their way inside the clothes, irritating skin and making eyes water.

They moved slowly – both because of terrain and any hidden sensor traps that Americans could leave all around the area. They had to hide from American UAVs, too – they were circling above in great numbers, sometimes low above the trees. The fact that so many of them were in the air worried everyone – were they detected on re-entry? Was the enemy trailing them, simply waiting for the right moment to engage?

The closer they got to the camp, the more careful they had to be. Negotiating forty kilometers of the jungle was an arduous task, and it took Anatoyli’s team most of the day to do that. Eventually, though, they came up to a fast-flowing stream which they knew circled the American camp from the west, providing it with fresh water. They were close now – but that only necessitated more care.

“We cross the stream and make camp on the other side. We’ll make our way to the eastern crest tomorrow and set up there. My section goes first, then Gorya, then the rest. Any questions?” – Anatoyli looked at his men, but they were too tired to discuss anything. All of them nodded – and that was as good as if an order has been given. The first section moved towards the stream, preparing to cross.

American C&C

UAVs were scouring the valley for the better part of the day now, co-ordinating with the Magellan and survey teams on the ground. Henderson decided to let the scientists continue their work, though they had to stay close to the camp and in constant contact with C&C. A drone was assigned to each work group to serve as a comms relay.

Lieutenant Sanchez-Barret was at his control console, plugged in, coalescing data from all these sources into a clear picture of the area. Six technicians controlled groups of four drones each, monitoring their sensors for things the AI missed. Their biggest problem was the heat and thickness of the jungle – it messed with IR sensors, which always were the best way to pick up enemy infantry. They had to resort to low overflights of the tree canopy to get a good image with ground-searching radars.

They had confirmation now of an enemy landing – a drone detected some metal containers buried at a beach some fifty kilometers south of the camp. Henderson though the infiltrators would move north under cover of the jungle, and into the valley. Their task was unknown, which made finding them all the harder – would they go straight for the camp and attack it, or wait somewhere and observe? This decision was absolutely critical for drone deployment.

Without warning, a yellow splash appeared in the battlespace image generated by all sensors in and around the base. The system told Barret the source was a ground survey team, one that worked near the stream six miles to the south-west – their sensors picked up unidentified contacts on the ground.

“Survey team Beta, I’ve got contacts from your sensor-packs. Report status.” – he shot off a message using his neural link.

“C&C, this is survey team Beta. We don’t see anything suspicious. There’s movement upstream, but it looks all screwy because of the damn heat. Maybe they’re animals?”

“Check it out.” – Barret had a creeping suspicion this wasn’t the local fauna.

“Roger. We’ll proceed with caution.”

“Confirmed. Directing two more drones to assist you.” – Barret closed the voice-link and waved to Henderson – “I think we may have something, sir.”

Jungle

“Movement!” – one of Anatoyli’s men suddenly shouted over the battle-link, breaking radio silence. The first rifle section had already crossed the stream and they were now covering the second half of the team. Their sniper element had crossed half an hour ago, and were somewhere to the east, but Anatoyli didn't know where exactly.

“Maintain radio silence!” – Anatoyli responded sharply, and donned his sensor-pack. The British-made unit had all sorts of vision and sensory aids, but most of them were useless in this environment. One of them, however, proved priceless. As the sensor-pack activated and its tendrils touched Anatoyli’s skin, he started to hear voices over the jungle’s noise.

“Quit whining, Jackson. We’re getting close.”

“You really think there’s someone here?”

“I told you to quit whining. Shut up and keep your eyes peeled.”

Anatoyli used hand signals to direct his rifle section towards the approaching threats, and they moved swiftly, but in complete silence. All three riflemen took good cover, and their MG gunner, Vassilij, propped up his weapon on a dead tree. The second section was almost done crossing.

There was no talking now, and no sounds other than the jungle. Their opponents made a mistake, but they were just as highly trained as Anatoyli’s men, and wouldn't make another. The Russian captain considered his options.

He could retreat, and had two good vectors for this move. Upstream – towards the American base – and north-east, deeper into the jungle. The second direction would probably be clear, since his snipers went that way. That would, of course, leave tracks and alert the enemy to their presence. It would also force him to leave cover, exposing his men.

On the other hand, he could engage and fight a battle with an unknown number of enemies, in unknown terrain, and most likely lose at least one man, probably more. That discounting armed drones which would probably take part in the fighting.

The decision wasn’t hard – its execution was, since Anatoyli had to be careful with what sounds he made.

First, he tapped his corporal on the helmet, and showed him the direction he was supposed to cover. Then he motioned to the second section and showed them to move towards the north-east. He called Gorya to himself.

“Gorya, you’re extremely valuable to us. If shooting starts, bolt north-east towards our scouts. Don’t engage the Americans in any way. Understood?” – Gorya nodded. Americans were getting closer now – everyone could occasionally hear movement. Anatoyli has decided enough was enough, and motioned the first section to start moving to the north-west as well.

Five minutes later, he’s realized he miscalculated his position relative to the enemy. He was moving last, and before his team could put enough distance between themselves and the stream, he noticed a thermal silhouette of an American soldier behind him. Anatoyli dove into the foliage, but it was too late.

“Contact!” – the enemy yelled and levelled his rifle. A short burst cracked through the air, and six subcalibre flechettes whizzed past Anatoyli, blowing holes in leaves and trees like they weren't there. The shrubbery practically exploded, throwing up clouds of its oily, smelly innards.

Anatoyli was glad he dove forwards, since the burst went through the space his torso would’ve occupied if he simply started running. At this range, though, the next burst would definitely be on target. He rolled to his back, smearing stinking, oily chemicals all over his face, and fired twice in the American’s general direction. This caused him to dive to the ground as well, and Anatoyli quickly got up and started running through the underbrush, zig-zagging as much as the foliage allowed him.

Another burst cut through the air, and two flechettes blew through a thick tree right behind Anatoyli. He felt one of them ricochet off his helmet, but it didn’t matter now. He reached his section, which already broke their retreat and were waiting in cover for him to catch up.

The American was more careful now. He didn’t come rushing right after Anatoyli, but rather fell back and reunited with his team. A drone buzzed right above the trees, a radar unit clearly visible below its stout airframe. Anatoyli stopped for a second to catch his breath and assessed the situation.

“They will move to flank us now. We’ll put up covering fire to the south, and lay some chaff to the east and west. Then we bolt as fast as possible.” – He barked orders to his section. The second section would probably be able to get away on their own.

“What about the drone? It can probably track us.” – Gorya looked up. The drone buzzed low over the jungle again.

“Get rid of it.”

“Da.” – Gorya nodded and quickly undid his oversized backpack. He pulled out a short, stubby weapon with a black emitter in place of a barrel. He slapped a boxy-looking energy pack into it and checked a row of lights that lit up on its side.

Two long bursts whizzed through the forest, blowing holes in trees and splattering pieces of foliage around. One of Anatoyli’s riflemen loaded five rounds into his grenade launcher and signaled he was ready.

Right after that, an American grenade burst high between the trees. Luckily, it went high – and Anatoyli decided that was their cue. He opened up with his rifle, and Vassilij joined him with his sleek machine gun.

They fired long bursts towards the south, at any sign of movement they could see. The air was becoming thick with flechettes, wood splinters and the oily sludge, which was being splattered everywhere. Their comrade started laying a smokescreen with his grenades.

As the fighting intensified, the drone had just finisged its turn and was coming in for an attack run. Gorya ducked when a flechette exploded a nearby plant, then looked up and raised his strange weapon.

From amongst the ungodly noise of machine-guns rifles and grenades, a loud crack – not unlike thunder – split the air, and the drone suddenly turned, vomited a shower of sparks and smoke, and then crashed into the red trees.

The area was filling up with smoke now, that was only disturbed by flechettes whizzing both ways. Anatoyli’s section started falling back, firing occasionally. They had trouble breathing, though – the smoke choked the air, which was not very clean to begin with. Acrid chemicals made their lungs hurt, even despite breathing masks. Nevertheless, two minutes after the first shots, they could say confidently they managed to break contact. Wheezing, coughing and dead-tired, they caught up with their second section.

“East. We move east, and march all night.” – Anatoyli managed to spit out. Then he fished around his webbing and swallowed a boost-pill – “Use yours. We have to get to the crest before dawn, and we can’t stop to camp.”

...and thourough comments (I'm looking at you, Bladed_Crescent) are adored...

I had one, you know.

I had one that took me two hours to write out, that covered your last three chapters.

And the board ate it.

So, instead you get the condensed version:

-I won't be able to concrit every post, especially not if the board's going to $#%#@ eat them.

-take out all the hyphens between speaker and speech

-use synonyms. Don't say afraid when you can say terrified. Don't say painful when you can say agonizing. (Don't say section when you can say squad, team, unit, etc )

- watch your word use; you've got a quite a few paragraphs that use the exact same phrase or word more than once

- watch your tenses. You've got a few 'has' where you should have 'had' and a couple other sentences like that.

- knots, belts and hookers are things that are loose. Games, men, and car keys are things that you lose. (pet peeve of mine)

I think that about covers the bare bones. I can see improvement in your work just from the first couple chapters and I look forward to the continuation of this story.

I do believe that was the best chapter yet.

Bladed_Crescent wrote: I had one, you know.

I had one that took me two hours to write out, that covered your last three chapters.

And the board ate it.

See? That's why you're awesome

Bladed_Crescent wrote:So, instead you get the condensed version:

-I won't be able to concrit every post, especially not if the board's going to $#%#@ eat them.

-take out all the hyphens between speaker and speech

I shouldn't use them? Why?

Bladed_Crescent wrote:-use synonyms. Don't say afraid when you can say terrified. Don't say painful when you can say agonizing.

I think I get the idea. I'll incorporate this.

Bladed_Crescent wrote:(Don't say section when you can say squad, team, unit, etc )

But...but...but they're sections, not squads! I can't call a section a squad!

Bladed_Crescent wrote:- watch your word use; you've got a quite a few paragraphs that use the exact same phrase or word more than once

Yeah, that's my biggest problem, I think.

Bladed_Crescent wrote:- knots, belts and hookers are things that are loose. Games, men, and car keys are things that you lose. (pet peeve of mine)

Oh. Damn. And to think I corrected quite a few people on this

Bladed_Crescent wrote:I think that about covers the bare bones. I can see improvement in your work just from the first couple chapters and I look forward to the continuation of this story.

Well, thank you. Improving my style is one of the main goals of this project, so it seems I am succeeding

Ford Prefect wrote:I do believe that was the best chapter yet.

Thank you. I do try.

I was worried my descriptions of combat didn't keep the pace and would be confusing to readers, despite my best efforts. I take it they were fine, then?