"Debriefing"- An STGOD Tale

[Thirdfain]

“I guess you already know most of what happened there- you fellas have been keeping an eye on us for some time, right? In any case, please- turn the light down. I’m willing to give you the whole story, for what it’s worth. Thanks. Alright, I’ll start- with my small part in this story. I was called up at around, ah, ten o’clock at night. We use the Earth Standard system on Jormungandr, with three Witching Hours to make up for our longer rotation- you know, that thing where the last minute between 11:59 and 12:00 lasts three hours? In any case, I was called up. I signed up with the BurgersVerteidigungArmee- Uh, Citizen’s defense force, because it was easy money. I showed up for a weekend a week, with a few months out of the year spent on maneuvers, and I got government pensions, the whole nine yards. I never expected to get called up. So, in any case, one minute I’m asleep in my bed, the next I’m in an APC train heading for Freyasholm.

We were all pretty scared, because it clearly wasn’t a drill, what with men being drawn in from the suburbs and farming towns. There was a lot of chatter in that APC. We didn’t know what was going on, and the regular army officers overseeing our unit had told us that we would be debriefed when we arrived in the city.

That’s when we noticed the sky. Ever seen a space battle in orbit? It’s incredible- Streamers of fire, spheres of incandescent light which bloomed and then disappeared. If my helmet hadn’t polarized, I would have gone blind. We didn’t know what was going on, who was attacking- but the fact that they were dueling with the orbiting defenses meant that the Fleet had been destroyed.

There was some sort of transmission playing from the loudspeakers, it sounded like the Kaiser. I only caught snatches of it over the engine noise, but I knew what he must be saying. I’ve never been a real patriot, but right then, I was ready to die for him. My resolve strengthened, and while some of the rest in the cabin were breaking apart, I held my back straight. IT was surreal- I didn’t know who was attacking, or why, but I was going to fight them with every ounce of my strength.

We arrived sometimes in the middle of the first Witching Hour. The fireworks were over in the skies above, but the plasma streamers were still there, cutting up the night sky. We had lost. I knew that Freyasholm, as the largest city in the Fang continent, would be a target for the invasion. I sat in my bunker, then, waiting. Out of the firing holes, I could see that there was a storm brewing to the west. I could see the flashes of lightening, and I grinned. This, on top of it all… It was ironic.

Then I realized storms didn’t come out of the west. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

I paled inside my body armor. They must have been bombing Odinsholm.

It seemed like an eternity. My world was one of sounds- The faint chatter of the radios, the rustle and click of the ten of us moving around in the small bunker, the far off wail of the alert sirens- it all beat down on my mind, each far-off roll of thunder seeming to come closer and closer. In retrospect, it was worse than the engagement itself.

It began. The ground rumbled, and the whole city shook as the defensive batteries opened fire. I wasn’t near a window, so I didn’t get to see our missiles getting swatted out of the sky, or the fists of energy which neatly excised the air defense stations from the face of the city.

The whole exhange of fire couldn’t have taken more than a few seconds, but it was so loud. I nearly went insane. Keller pissed himself, and we were all rolled up into fetal balls when it was over, I was too scared to be embarrassed.

The box crackled. Prepare for enemy landing. It cut off halfway through the message, and never spoke again.

They came then. Down the road, moving along the edges; my optics couldn’t track them. I was pissed, and killed them. I aimed by iron sights, and opened fire. Around me, taking their cues, the rest of my squad opened fire. It was incredible, and I felt a rush as the storefronts disintegrated under our bullets and beams. Ambaski fired the big recoilless we had set up, and a whole building collapsed in a plume of dust. We cheered. Though my IR was on the fritz, I could see a figure flapping, spurting blood.

They flew the round right through the firing slit. The blast threw me against the wall. I looked up, to see a slate-colored figure, sleek and thin and too tall, jackknife effortlessly through the smoking hole. It blew Keller and Ambaski in half with a burst from the oversized rifle it carried without effort. Mercer tried to gut it with his vibroknife, but it was too fast, like some sort of reptile- it was on him in a heartbeat, and I could hear the snapping of his arms, as it pulled one of them off, blood spattering it’s featureless faceplate. Mercer’s scream still echoes in my head. I was paralyzed, too shocked to move as it crushed his skull in one armored fist.

It turned towards me, and strode over with slow, almost sensual, swaying movements, its rifle left forgotten on the floor, it’s torso sprayed with blood. Its hands darted back and forth, in patterns which looked like sign language. Bits of Mercer dripped from it’s fingers.

I vomited inside my helmet.

I felt my fingers close around the grip of the shotgun I was lying on top of. It was so close.

I moved.

It must have seen me- and I was almost to slow. Even across the whole room, it almost got to me.

I fired once, and it fell back, staggered.

I worked the action, and fired again. Chunks of armor and a spray of blood blew out from its torso, and it reached feebly for my neck. Cursing, I pulled the trigger a third and last time, right into its face.

I stood over my vanquished enemy, and looked down at the crumpled form. My eyes swept up, over long, chitenous armored legs, over a slim torso coated in dull grey ceramic, half blown out by buckshot. I puked again when I saw the face.

She had a thin, elegant face and a small, pug nose. A trickle of bright pink blood ran down her face, hinting at the terrible internal injuries I had caused. Her hair, under the shattered remains of the combat mask, was a little girl’s blonde cornrows.

She was 16 years old.

That’s why I’m so willing to tell you about this, sir. That’s why I knew I had to escape. You are the only people with the power to stop them. Everyone’s heard of the Protectorate’s exploits, of it’s fleets, of it’s honor and love of freedom. You see, sir, you need to stop them. We can’t coexist with them, or ignore them- I see that now. Why? Because, sir, you have to realize- The Elysians sent a stripling girl to kill for them, and they felt no remorse for it. They thought it was right, that a child should be taught to kill and brutalize, and that it’s god’s way- And then, sir, you also have to realize this-

She enjoyed it."

-Debriefing Transcript
-PfC. Arnald Dejerico, BVAJ
-Jormungandr
-Naval Intelligence Division

[Rogue 9]

Nitpick: Wouldn't her face be gone after he'd discharged a combat shotgun into it?

[frigidmagi]

Real Nitpick: The report would be given to Naval Intelligence Division, there is no Lord Protectors Intelligence Agency. But I'm just qubbiling now.

Great Story.

[Thirdfain]

Nitpick: Wouldn't her face be gone after he'd discharged a combat shotgun into it?

It was half-gone; he was describing the side of teh face that was still intact.

Real Nitpick: The report would be given to Naval Intelligence Division, there is no Lord Protectors Intelligence Agency. But I'm just qubbiling now.

Great Story.

Thanks!

Fixed it