Back to Baylor

[Shroom Man 777]

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- April 16, 2567 -
- Wild Space world Nyrbosk -
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Nyrbosk was a shithole, plain and simple. Lightyears away from the fringes of civilized space, it was a Gamma-Sigma staging point. Biggest one in the sector. Its moon served as a spaceport, trading post and makeshift battlestation, while the planet itself was chock-full of heavily armed interstellar scum. Fitting, as it used to be a Bragulan penal colony. What was more fitting though was that the Sovereignty was laying siege to the entire system, with Marines on the ground kicking alien scum of all sorts.


Bragulan sixty calibers smashed through the concrete as Lieutenant John Baylor and his squad stormed through one of Nyrbosk’s innumerable streets. Sigs were all over the place, a thousand of ‘em for every single Marine on the ground. All of them were armed, and most of them were chewing raw Kasanarium, not a good combination.

“Suppression fire!” Baylor yelled, sixty cal tracers filling the air with incendiary lead. As one ricocheted off his battlesuit, the tracers were answered by a real lightshow of plasma, and the windows where the sixty cals poked through disappeared under a fusillade of superheated gas.

It was pitch black again as the tracers stopped firing, and Baylor’s HUD compensated for the lack of lighting by using ambient ultraviolet and infrared light.

Baylor got up from his crouch and leaned on the piece of demolished building he was using for cover. “Everyone okay?” he asked, to which he was answered by a chorus of ‘yeahs’ and ‘yes sirs’.

“Alright, let’s move forward, Marines!” Baylor barked, satisfied by the nonexistence of casualties. “Cruise, take point.”


They went through Nyrbosk’s unlit streets mostly mostly undisturbed. The Sigs were probably busy on the other side of the city, trying to stop the main push, Baylor mused. Dying as they did so. Trucks with bolted-on/taped-on rocket launchers could do only so much against USMC armor. That, and they had close orbital support-

As if in response to that thought, night was briefly turned into day as a bolt of plasma came down from the heavens and disintegrated some unfortunate troop concentration a few miles away. There was a thunderclap, and Baylor could feel the earth shake ever so slightly.

He smiled. It was rare to see such a display of thermonuclear power, especially this close-

“RPG!” a Marine yelled, disrupting Baylor’s mental reprieve and sending everyone diving for cover.

As nuclear fireworks lit up the sky, heavenly plasma nuking some more Sigs, the entire street was engulfed in a magenta fireball. Baylor cursed himself. Bad time to get poetic. The fireball dissipated within moments, and Baylor, rather pissed, got up as fast as he could.

Fucking Sigs are up the rooftops, Baylor thought as he pointed his rifle upwards and opened fire. He switched his HUD to x-ray and pumped his rifle’s grenade launcher. He squeezed the trigger, and quickly ducked behind the nearest semblance of cover he could find, a decomposing garbage bin.

Baylor’s grenade punched through the ceiling of the building the Sigs were on, its mono-molecular tip slicing through concrete like used tissue paper. There was an explosion, and a couple of squat Bragulans, one of them with an RPG tube, came out flying. The Brag with the RPG exploded midair, the other one dropped like a brick.

There were more Brags up there, and they opened up with K-bolts, lasers and sixty cals. Baylor also noticed a few needler shots bouncing off his armor.

The Marines weren’t doing nothing though, as they let loose a hellish barrage of plasma that tore through concrete and ceilings, barbecuing flesh, Kevlar and organs. They were actually shooting through the building, in some cases, thanks to their helmets' x-ray sensors. Within half a minute, the firefight was over. Lightshows, both street-level firefight and orbital bombardment, done, it was night again.

Well, not really. A drug-addled Sig came rushing out of an alley, shooting incoherently with one bolter on each hand, and as quickly as he appeared, he was gone as the entire squad opened up on him. His K-bolter, half liquefied, fell to the ground. Aside from that, there was nothing left of him.

Baylor sighed. “Marines, let’s move out. We still got a job to do.”

It was gonna be a long night.

[Crazedwraith]

didn't ya already post this? Its near to the bottom of the page.

[Shroom Man 777]

*facedesk* FUCK! I forgot! Could someone kill this thread?

EDIT:

Wait, wait. No! I'll just replace the short story in this thread!