Dropship Sonata

[Ciel Eilde]

[[ The following was created off the top of my head in a matter of minutes. It will be a piece-by-piece story; each part ending with a cliffhanger to maintain interest and also stir up "what if" thought. ]]

Nothing ever prepares you for the cold steel sweat you feel prickling your brow and snaking down your back. The smell of fuel, of body sweat and armor permeates the interior of the drop ship. Your last meal sat heavily in the pit of your stomach, stealing the stability you had once had. The bravery and steely mask cracks as the shift of gravity indicates that the ship you are in is descending. There is a kind of tension in the air, unique to this situation; it penetrates to the very bone--a chill that cannot be chased away by the heat and trepidation. Your fellow drop mates seem hard-faced, silent and cold; moments ago, they were laughing and carrying on about subjects far too vulgar for most civilized people…

And now, they’re like gargoyles; statues of solidarity and antipathy.

You can feel their moods radiating outward from their facial expressions; they were ready. But were you? It seemed that, despite their looks, they too also gave signs they were questioning their own willingness and level of readiness. A tic here, a mumble here. Even you found it morbidly entertaining that they shared your thick indecision. The drop ship continued its hellish decent, the turbulence tossing about the hanging equipment; clatters of things echoed through the personnel bay. You close your eyes, finding yourself sinking into utopia of personal thought, attempting to justify your existence at this very moment.

The landing was rough, everyone shook in their seats. Swearing and loud raucous shouts disturbed you.

It was time.

Up went the restraints, the commanding officer--a rather tall and comely fellow--began to shout orders which were swiftly followed. Guns and other tactical gear was handed out to each person assigned to deal with the given items. You were the medic, your choice of weapons was the least of them all. And you were thankful for that, in some portions of your brain. But a small sliver, which grew with startling speed, wanted to be more. This action wasn’t something everyone saw.

To experience it, first hand, would be something to tell the grandchildren later. You should be thankful for what you have now, though. You were chosen for this operation, which was considered one of the highest class of tactical offense. Too bad you felt like you were going to piss your pants as you exited the drop ship and headed for a rendevous point that had been illustrated earlier, during briefing.

You realize the weight of the situation and find yourself charged with a surge of almost godlike adrenaline. Rushing with the men you called comrades at your sides, you crested a hill that was supposedly a lookout point over the rendevous point. As you ascended, nothing could have ever prepared you for the sight that would unfold before your eyes. The reactions from those around you mirrored you own…

[Cygna]

I enjoyed this read.

[Kynnaria Merlin]

Very nice. Invictus totally saves the day at the end though. SORRY TO RUIN THE STORY FOR EVERYONE.

[Arc Vyper]

Really good :P

[Ciel Eilde]

[[ PART II ]]

The acrid smell of explosives and gun fire tickled your nose; you knew that scent anywhere. Eyes widened behind the protective eye-gear you were ordered to wear, the scene before you stretched out across blackened sand dunes; the wind ruthlessly whipping pieces of cloth and other debris across the desolate waste. What once was an outpost was reduced to nothing; the people were blackened bone--stripped further by the raging dust-storm that threatened to swallow even you up. Over inner helmet com, someone was saying a prayer; you mirrored it in your mind. Sweat had increased as you looked around, immediately on edge. Were the attackers gone or were they around, aware of reinforcements? Over the com, there was some distant chatter.

“Is that us…?” A rookie’s nasally voice spoke up.

“Shhh!” Came the sharp retort from one of the veteran war-riders. All fell silent, the distant crackle in our coms seemed to mask speech. It didn’t appear that they could hear us though. It wasn’t clear what they were saying, but your eye caught the commanding officer beginning to gesture for us to split up and search the encampment. You swiftly move with the ‘unit’ you were told to go with. Sifting through the rubble would take a bit…

The commanding officer and his right hand were the look outs, monitoring both the distant communications interception as well as the dunes and swales of sand, stretching out across the horizon. It would be dark soon, and we have no real cover, since the point in which we were to meet up is no longer there. A sobering and depressing thought; you were now an automaton--working without the aid of thought or emotion. For now, those human traits took a back seat as a monster stirred within. It was time to stop whining and start working. Someone was brave enough to sweep in, take out a large outpost and disappear. Who ever it was … meant business.

“Whatever happened.. I think we missed it, sir.” Another voice spoke up, which resulted in a mild chatter from the other of the unit. Eventually, the commander spoke up. “They’re still here; somewhere out there. Otherwise, why would we hear their chatter. It’s obvious they can’t hear us. But we need to start scouting.. We’re made for this kind of work. All of you, start looking in the rubble for anything that might help us. Otherwise, we’re going to go hunting.. Use the signal we’re picking up to help us.”

“Yes, sir!” The entire battalion responded; work picked up. “It’ll be about an hour before we’re finished, sir.” One of the more seasoned fighters spoke up before everyone focused on their tasks.

Edited July 9, 2010 by Ciel Eilde

[Aelus]

This is great, you're a wonderful writer Ciel.