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Aliies
Art-type-person-thingy...
Gender: Male
Location: South Australia |
2089=Special Weapons And Tactics
((This was my next and !UNIQUE! idea… tried typing it for a little but each sequence flowed smoothly, depending on reviews I may take this further!))
INTRODUCTION…
For countless generations man has fought one another over the petty disputes and our disagreements, for too long have we waged war upon our fellow man and slaughtered innumerable innocent lives for the sole purpose of dividing the differences.
Mid-way through the twenty-first century mankind had reached a point where the slightest move of one’s hand in the politically incorrect world meant war; the most arrogant of nations and the proud had fallen to terrorism and civil war as our people tore at the very heart that is humanity, beating weaker and weaker with each genocidal stroke…
The word Police was a symbol of oppression and injustice as many tried to stem the flow of anarchy that had gripped the world.
All of which was over the simplest thing, one thing that had defined man for the last one hundred and fifty years and was consumed at such a rate that the supplies had all but been absorbed by the most thirsty of peoples…
Fuel…
An organic-derived combustible otherwise known as fossil-fuel and it was this simple liquid that caused humans to murder one another as the sources ran low…
The oceans were now home to the largest ongoing wars ever recorded in human history as we tore at each other for the fabled oil-rigs; their simple and near-ancient construction mimicked as we dug deeper and deeper when the land sources had dried up.
To attack a countries oil rig was the most heinous of crimes; and utter madness as their owners transformed these constructs into gigantic constructs that dwarfed the idea of a fortress; usually a mile in diameter and outfitted with the most powerful defensive capabilities known to man.
Sea and airpower overshadowed the idea of the land-based army, the mightiest navy or air force labeled you most powerful nation, and the most likely to use it…
For another forty-seven years mankind continued it’s plight against itself, the once greatest nations such as China and America nothing more than nuclear-wastelands and pockets of civilization as they were clawed at for their wastage of the Earth’s now-most precious resource.
The lesser countries did not go without war; the Australasian regions suffered repetitive and merciless strikes from nations attempting to scare off anyone who might attempt to join the world crisis. Japan, England and Russia all swiped at the island nations and Australia was in the majority reduced to a ruined urban zone; but it’s people dug in and were the first to finally break away from the requirements of crude-oils as Hydrogen-Fusion was discovered, driving back any invaders with outstanding resolve as they abandoned any sources of fuel, leaving them for the savage territories that were the ocean.
When the forty-eighth year marked as 2080, mankind finally realized it’s mistake;
They had destroyed almost everything that their great people had forever strived to accomplish, turning the simplest idea into another form of destruction.
Perhaps that is why they fell upon us.
On New Year’s Eve of the year twenty-eighty the sky turned black, the sun blocked out as a new foe revealed itself to clean up the mess that had become of Humanity…
__________________
Mal: "Well, if anyone gets nosey... You know... Shoot em' "
Zoe: "Shoot them sir?"
Mal: "...Politely"
Last edited by Aliies on Feb 5th, 2006 at 03:07 AM
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Feb 5th, 2006 03:01 AM |
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Aliies
Art-type-person-thingy...
Gender: Male
Location: South Australia |
2089=Special Weapons And Tactics, Part 1
FLOOD CONTROL…
He could hear the low-throbbing rumble of a dropship over the next block; he signaled silently to his eight-man fire team to take cover in a small and blown-out internet café’, he had already fired off a few rounds so he checked the fire-counter on the side of his H&K G62 out of trained-habit…
Still two-hundred and ninety-three caseless rounds left, enough to take out an entire enemy squad. He removed a small ‘round-the-corner’ device; an extendable digital-camera that was three-times the width of a human hair.
“How many you count, Mick?” Cameron asked, keeping his thick Australian-accented voice to an absolute minimum.
“Thankfully only two males and seven females…” Michael said calmly, his accent of his near-dead American people which made him stand considerably out from his peers.
“How’d you end up in Australia, mate? I heard that there were no survivor from the fuel-campaigns…” he asked unnecessarily.
“I’d answer you if you weren’t so stupid…” he stated flatly.
“What did you just say?” he asked in a threatening tone.
“I meant that we’re trying to let them past us and you’re going to attract their attention, now for the good of the squad; shut up…” Michael whispered so he himself had trouble hearing.
From across the wide street from them and around the corner came the obvious-barking sounds of the enemies language; they were apparently unrestrained from keeping it low-key, meaning only that they could expect more of them shortly to arrive…
“We simply can’t allow them to take the square… if they do then they’ll easily have ample space to land a battalion and even mow-tanks; that cannot happen otherwise we will loose the city!” he whispered again in a barely-audible whisper.
He clamped his eye around the piece again, trying to predict their movements or at least they’re intentions. The male was literally barking at one of the females his orders whilst studying a holographic projection of the city’s layout upon his immense wrist; just the size of the humanoids made him squirm…
He counted their number again to ensure that he hadn’t missed any; his concentration lapsing for a moment as Robert behind him stifled a sneeze…
When he looked back through the eye-piece; the enemy had vanished.
“Robert, I think they heard that…” he said in a whisper again to his younger brother.
They flinched and ducked as a bolt of blue energy hammered their position, taking Paul with it as he tried to make their position, “Covering fire!” Michael howled as he entrenched the muzzle of his weapon, indicating to his right for the second part of his squad to swing around the left flank as the enemy took cover. The high-cyclic weapon thundered out the caseless ammunition and he saw a female adversary get blown back by the heavy-caliber shots; they were rather fragile in build but he had personally seen one pull a man’s arm clean out of it’s socket before literally kicking his head off.
Dean, Amy and Vanessa were the second squad section that moved around the left, the enemy’s right flank and down a narrow side street; they were a team of four but for Paul…
Amy’s face contorted in revulsion momentarily as they past the remnant of a previous battle; two bodies of the enemy lay next to an entire Human squad like theirs, rats and ants had cleaned most of them up save for the smell. The walls around them sprayed with a combination of blue-blood of the enemy and normal tint of red…
The alleyway led to a service area of bombed-out shops that they had past and scaled fences and mangled chain-link gates as stealthily as would allow for current the situation; the all-too familiar sounds of the alien’s weaponry becoming louder and louder.
“Amy, Amy come in… Bravo detachment do you copy?” Michael’s voice rang through the COM link installed in each of their helmets, she smiled at his sudden change from casual to formal method of communication.
“Received…” she whispered simply into the mouthpiece, pushing open a door that led through an old fish-and-chip shop, it’s inhabitant lay strewn with shrapnel from a nearby explosion during the first descents of the unknown force; their skin had sunken to a point of complete dehydration and any exposed soft tissue eaten away by scavengers, this time Vanessa was forced to cover her mouth with her hand in disgust, turning into Dean’s shoulder to look away. Amy simply shook her head, signing for them to cut it out as the adversaries lay literally just around the corner from the shop’s door.
“We could possibly do with your assistance… Just a thought seeing as we’re getting our ASSES kicked!” he shouted suddenly as she heard the distinct sound of his rifle both through the earpiece and from the echoes around the corner.
Bravo’s leader Amy waved back the attentions of her fellow combatants and signaled for them to back against the wall offset from their target’s position, holding up three fingers and dropping one slowly at a time…
Before her third finger dropped, a female humanoid appeared around the corner, obviously taking cover whilst being pushed back; she fell with her back against the wall parallel to Amy’s squad and didn’t bother to look to her right where they stood not two meters away.
For the first time she had a look at one of them alive; almost no different to a human woman but with shocking two-toned blue eyes that had no ‘whites’ but still with a black pupil and her eyebrows were two little oval-shaped tufts of hair. She couldn’t help but admire her figure as she was very lightly built but under her near-perfect dark auburn skin lay hidden steel cables that were her muscles.
Vanessa, who was unfortunately the one to be standing close to her felt her chin shudder in fear; she had seen such creatures thunder through her country town and decimate her entire family with no remorse, she had only survived as she was still inside her house as it collapsed and the creatures had left the wreckage alone.
Amy had to act, she was their detachment’s leader and action had to be taken as Michael announced Jacob’s demise. She unholstered her suppression-pistol and discharged paralyzing energy into the alien girl, who by earth standard appeared only fifteen or so…
She then led her group finally around the corner and behind the enemy position, signaling for Michael to cease fore as they were now in his LOS; he had already downed one of the males and three other females, they stepped over the huge hulk of the ‘man’, if he could be called that, and covered the surviving soldiers.
The two surviving women screamed something in their barbaric language and opened their palms at them… the guards around their wrists discharging sub-molecular plasma energy into their hands and propelling it by literally hurling the energy at them. Dean was hit in the leg before they cut them both down; the male just realizing that he had been flanked and bellowed at them with a mighty roar that shook any nearby intact windows.
Amy, Vanessa and Dean, but only just barely, unloaded their entire clips into the large creature, they were able to absorb a significant amount of sustained fire before falling.
Their weapons clacked dully and the ammo-counter beeped to announce all three of their rifles were empty as they had fired in sync.
The nine-foot-tall creature was barely injured and he advanced on them with determination, his massive boots thundering beneath him and cracked the pavement.
Amy’s squad had only just finished reloading as it closed, grabbing Dean with one huge hand around his torso and lifting him into the air before the sound of heavy machine-gun fire tore around the corner; a mark VI Challenger heavy-hover-tank rumbled around the corner and flattened the monster of a humanoid with a cheer from both Amy’s and Michael’s squad.
Dean dragged himself from under the warm palm of his former captor with glee until one of it’s fingers dragged on his injured leg, causing him to howl in pain. A military medic jumped from the tank and tended to his wound before inspection the two fallen members of their squad.
The Tank’s commander poked his head out from the front-most hatch, calling Michael over with his Australian-laced voice, “Heard ‘bout this little team that decided to go into the wastes on their own and thought they might need a little armor support…”
“Well it was most appreciated, they had us pinned but we almost took them down without your help” He answered, a slight humorous tone to his voice, causing the tank’s Captain to adopt a shocked expression, “An American, I thought there were none left after twenty-seventy…ah forget it, I’m sure you hear that a lot, besides; you SWAT are always the same… and I see you got yourself a nice catch there!” he commented on his attitude before noticing the alien girl that Vanessa dragged from the decimated fish and chip shop.
“Catch of the week! Thanks for the save; can you take us back to safe ground?” he asked, the Australian commander simply stuck his thumb up and out to indicate for them to ride shotgun as the field medic got back in after tending to Dean and loading Paul and Jacob’s bodies for retrieval; countless lives had already lost and Michael hated finding new squad members for that exact reason.
__________________
Mal: "Well, if anyone gets nosey... You know... Shoot em' "
Zoe: "Shoot them sir?"
Mal: "...Politely"
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Feb 5th, 2006 03:04 AM |
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H. S. 6
Approaching the End
 Gender: Male
Location: Ministry of Magic |
Good stuff. I really like this beginning, and the prologue--sets you up for the story. 
A few things I noticed, though, was that you used the same word twice or three times in the same paragraph a few times, but nothing major. Also something you may want to look out for is the run-on sentences; I noticed a few, but again, nothing major.
Anyway, good stuff, like I said. Please continue! 
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Feb 5th, 2006 04:35 PM |
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Aliies
Art-type-person-thingy...
Gender: Male
Location: South Australia |
Actually i would like it if you could point those flaws out, its not usually in my sytle to miss things like that...
I wrote this after being awake for 18hours and finally clicked save at 3:00am...
I was a tad tired when this piec popped out of my skul  
__________________
Mal: "Well, if anyone gets nosey... You know... Shoot em' "
Zoe: "Shoot them sir?"
Mal: "...Politely"
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Feb 6th, 2006 12:13 AM |
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Aliies
Art-type-person-thingy...
Gender: Male
Location: South Australia |
2089=Special Weapons And Tactics, Part 2
HOMECOMING…
The tank’s repulsion-generator throbbed in their ears, it worked easily to maintain an eight inch hover over the ground and increased to seventeen over any rough ground or rubble.
This part of the city of Melbourne was one of the first to be bombed by the alien invaders; they comfortably rumbled their way down Maroondah Highway from the district of Nunawading and through the Balwyn and Kew areas, leading into the heart of the ruined city where the primary operations base and the refugee sector that had become of the docks.
This part of the city was forever patrolled by tanks such as the Vincent’s Pride, the one they rode. They had already past through six barricades and filter-checkpoints, Captain Marko Vincent, the commander of the Vincent waved his clearance pass to the guards they past, each waving their greeting in return in the Australian fashion. Michael still had to get used to the semi-relaxed attitude of the Australian soldier; he had seen first hand that their training for even the SWAT scouts such as his team were trained to unbelievable standards.
Nearly his whole life had been in the American military but the Aussies took only Australian citizens into the actual army, assigning foreigners to small tactical squads such as SWAT and the Star-forces; most of the time finding mundane duties such as refugee-herding and guard work like at the checkpoints.
Up ahead lay the Collingwood region as they turned to the left and onto Victoria Street, a SWAT team like theirs signaled a pleasant greeting as they directed a large crowd of refugees from Singapore to make way for the tank, many of which too waving in thanks for the relief actions of Australia; Singapore had been hit hard by the enemy.
Amy waved the bound limp hands of their unconscious humanoid prisoner and the refugees laughed maliciously at the pathetic creature, “Our friend here is certainly popular…” she called to Vanessa, who leant over and squeezed the girl’s mouth into a mocking smile for their audience, who replied appreciatively.
She was wearing a simple jumpsuit of sorts; they had stripped away the weaponry and the armor and the interface visor that she wore, Dean sat there fiddling curiously with the technology as the terrain of the Yarra Bend National Park rolled past them on their right.
“Up ahead!” shouted Vincent over the thunder of his prized toy, his jaw constantly in motion as he enjoyed the sweet flavor of a piece of chewing gum, “I’ll drop you a block from your HQ; we just got repositioning orders!”
“Thanks mate!” Michael mused, emphasizing a lame Australian accent before taking charge of their prisoner over his shoulder, leaping of the tank as its propulsion engines spooled and they tore off to the right and down High Street. The commanders waving hand just visible over the top hatch as they gunned the engine at full speed.
The sound of a nearby subwoofer became apparent, rubbing their ears from the throb of the high-tech tank. Humanity had still found ways of relaxation despite the current events, they spotted a group of off-duty soldiers kick around a football, yelling and cheering each other on as they played the coveted ‘Aussie Rules’.
The hike to the headquarters was short and relaxing, they had time to kill as they had been ordered to take in any captives, most where rewarded very well for a live captive as the enemy had the theory of ‘death before capture’ imprinted in their apparent training.
They saw where the music came from; a blown out commercial building had been inhabited by hundreds of military cots and most were inhabited by those just fresh from the frontline; mud and camo-stick-paint still splattered on their features.
In the very back was a huge and scratch-built sound system that pumped high-decibel music out; the sleeping soldiers too tired to even notice.
“They’ve got the right idea…” Cameron said in envy; they too had been out in the wastes for an extended period and he yawned just by looking at them.
“Then lets get this bag of blue-meat up to HQ then get some sleep, how’s that sound” Michael said with a smile, his five squad-mates cheered.
_-^^^====^^^-_
Sergeant Matthews, the last survivor of squad AR2-1C took cover as the concussive blasts rocked the building he was hiding in, “Sergeant Matthews, Sergeant Matthews, do you copy?” came the voice of his coordinator, Lieutenant Peterson cried over the COM link, “I lost sight of your squad, you were told to take the left flank; If you can hear this then you are disobeying a direct order!”
“Sir, pinned down…” he winced as half of the entire building collapsed, “My squad’s down and they have mow-tanks, I repeat; Heavy number of enemy mow-tanks, they’re pounding my position, over”
“Have you sighted enemy troop movements?” Peterson asked, his voice rising to a panic.
“I didn’t get a head-count…” another large portion of the structure collapsed, his feet lurched as he felt the supports giving way, “Possible sighting of six ba…” his answer becoming a scream as the remaining portion of his cover was decimated by a plasma-implosion-grenade.
“Sergeant, Sergeant respond! Come in, damn it; I need their location… SERGEANT!” the earpiece roared into empty space…
__________________
Mal: "Well, if anyone gets nosey... You know... Shoot em' "
Zoe: "Shoot them sir?"
Mal: "...Politely"
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Feb 6th, 2006 04:26 AM |
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H. S. 6
Approaching the End
Gender: Male
Location: Ministry of Magic |
Things like:
For countless generations man has fought one another over the petty disputes and our disagreements, for too long have we waged war upon our fellow man and slaughtered innumerable innocent lives for the sole purpose of dividing the differences.
Should really use a semi-colon instead of a comma.
Personally, I wouldn't use two semi-colons in a row here:
To attack a countries oil rig was the most heinous of crimes; and utter madness as their owners transformed these constructs into gigantic constructs that dwarfed the idea of a fortress; usually a mile in diameter and outfitted with the most powerful defensive capabilities known to man.
This sentence seemed to run on to me:
Sea and airpower overshadowed the idea of the land-based army, the mightiest navy or air force labeled you most powerful nation, and the most likely to use it…
Perhaps a semi-colon after army?
And then paragraphs like this one:
He could hear the low-throbbing rumble of a dropship over the next block; he signaled silently to his eight-man fire team to take cover in a small and blown-out internet café’, he had already fired off a few rounds so he checked the fire-counter on the side of his H&K G62 out of trained-habit…
The comma after 'cafe' would probably be better suited as a semi-colon, as a complete sentence follows it.
Those and others were the ones I noticed. Perhaps this is simply your style, but these are similar to the ones I was referring to. 
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Feb 6th, 2006 09:13 PM |
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Aliies
Art-type-person-thingy...
Gender: Male
Location: South Australia |
As i said, i typed both the prologue and the first part whilst i was very tired. Thing like that don't normally and the double-semi-colon thing never usually happens...
Thanks for the head-up though; i type the fastest when tired and i'll edit it in the mornings to avoid that.
Your helpful critisism has been rewarding to me, as a writer i simply say; Thank you
__________________
Mal: "Well, if anyone gets nosey... You know... Shoot em' "
Zoe: "Shoot them sir?"
Mal: "...Politely"
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Feb 7th, 2006 03:34 AM |
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Aliies
Art-type-person-thingy...
Gender: Male
Location: South Australia |
These old stories need attention, It's a shame to see them left alone for nearly a year, unfinished too...  *Shame on me :P *
__________________
Mal: "Well, if anyone gets nosey... You know... Shoot em' "
Zoe: "Shoot them sir?"
Mal: "...Politely"
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Oct 24th, 2006 03:58 AM |
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