A short story that might end out being the length of a mini novel

[GooberMan]

I haven't thought of a title for this yet (that'll come when I've finished the story no doubt). As I said in the title, this is meant to be a short story, but the amount of events that are going to happen could stretch this in to novel territory. As a result of it being a short story, the writing style isn't 100% detailed and is trying to get the point across quick. Anyway, on with the story...


“So why did you join, Romero?”
Romero shouted to keep above the noise of the atmosphere rushing by, just outside of the walls of the dropship. “Family was giving me the shits,” she said, “and my life was going nowhere. What’s the use of a wasted life? Might as well do something good with it.”
Simmons gave a lopsided grin. “Now there’s a girl who isn’t afraid to take action.” She turned his head to Watkins, who was sitting in the bay next to Romero. “What about you?”
We were all fresh out of training, except for Sarge up front. The United Planets Marine Corp training course was tough, but for this war, they needed the toughest. None of us had met until six hours ago, when we were all put in to a new unit and given a commander. Sergeant Paul Rodriguez seemed like a bit of an ass, but they say he is one of the best front line fighters in the UPMC at the moment. Very soon, I’d be able to see just how good he is and whether he’s earned the right to be an ass or not.
“A steady paycheck,” Watkins replied.
Simmons almost looked surprised. “That’s all?” Watkins didn’t move or say anything. “Well, you could sink the Titanic with the amount of ice on that guy.” That got a chuckle from everyone. I could have sworn I heard the Sarge, who was up the front with the pilots, laugh a bit too. Simmons turned her attention to Chambers. “What about you? You must have a good reason.”
“How else do you suppose I see the planets and get paid for it?” he replied.
“Hitchhike?”
Again, the crew had a bit of a laugh. Chambers tried to contain a grin, but to his avail, one appeared on his face. “Hey, we still ain’t heard why you joined Simmons,” he said loud enough to get everyone’s attention.
Simmons quickly glanced at everyone, then said innocently, “My daddy made me do it.”
Everyone groaned at that remark. From the front of the pod came a distinct “Knock it off, Marines!” from the Sarge.
I decided to say something. “You a daddy’s girl or do you have a real reason?”
She looked at me with an icy stare for about a second, which I tried my best to return, and then she broke out in laughter. “It’s true! If my dad didn’t try to make me do what he wanted me to do, I wouldn’t have told him to fuck it all and I wouldn’t be in here right now, dropping down through the atmosphere with you fine people – well, fine except for Watkins over there.” Everyone laughed again, and Simmons nearly copped Watkins’ helmet in her face. She had quick reflexes and caught it before it could contact. “Lighten up Watkins,” she told him as she threw his helmet back.
She then turned her attention back to me, a grin still on her face. “And what about you? Do we get to hear why you joined?”
“I’ve always believed the reason we’re alive is to make a difference. When I was a civvie, I wasn’t making a difference, and I thought, If I join the marines I can make a difference in something that matters,” I replied.
“Nice answer, Anderson,” she said. “Always good to have someone willing to make good luck for everyone.” I started to speak, then I realised that my determination to get the job done and to make a difference could very well translate in to good luck. I decided right then that if she came back from this mission that I should get to know her more. It looked like she was about to ask another marine why he joined, but she wasn’t given the chance thanks to the Sarge.
“OK Marines,” he started as he walked back from the cockpit, “we’ve got one minute till we touch down. That leaves you 45 seconds to get your weapons and line up. Let’s go people!” He looked at Simmons. “I can tell you’re going to be trouble, Marine, so there’s going to be a small reassignment of the teams. You’ll be switching places with Mulholland. That means you’re with Anderson and myself. Mulholland, you’re with Watkins and Marvin. Same role, different group. Got it?”
“Sir, yes sir,” came the reply from all involved in the switchover.
While he was speaking, half the group had retrieved their guns from the Safe Storage Unit. I was first in line to get my gun. I was almost proud of the gun, but I had to keep reminding myself that it was a dangerous piece of machinery. It was the standard KT-54 Automatic/Semi-automatic Machine Gun, but with a few modifications that I was working on during training and which the Sarge gave approval for use in combat. The first modification was a bigger clip. A standard clip holds 80 rounds, but I had worked out a way to push the wasted space inside the clip to hold an extra 15 rounds per clip. The next modification was on the bullets themselves. I had ripped off the on-board computer targeting system found standard on the RZ-99 Assault Cannon. A friend who had joined the Marines years before had told me that the standard bullets used in the machine gun clips already had a targeting system built in to it. The designers of the weapons decided to do that because, as a result, the magazines could be used in more advanced models if need be. The advanced models - usually reserved for the special forces - came with the OCTS as standard. All I had to do was find out what frequency the bullets used, reprogram the computer, and attach it properly to my gun. My drill instructor kept on telling me that I was too smart to be a grunt, but as far as I was concerned, I would have a better chance of making a difference out on the field than locked away in an office somewhere.
After retrieving my gun, I waited by the Sarge. A few seconds later, Simmons came up with her gun. She looked at my gun and said, “Where do I get me some of those modifications?”
I looked up from the OCTS (I was running diagnostics to make sure everything was still working), and said, “Perhaps if you’re a good girl this mission I might share the secrets with you.”
“No you won’t, Marine,” said the Sarge. “If command finds out you’re using illegal modifications on your weapons, not only will you find your ass out on the street, but I will too, and you don’t want to see me on the street.”
“I understand, Sir,” I said.
“If I didn’t think it would give us an edge in battle I wouldn’t have let you use those modifications, but I’ve seen those things-“ he was referring to the targeting computer; “-in action, and they’re lethal. Keep it to yourself, Marines, and everyone will be happy. Understood?”
“Sir, yes sir,” came the reply from Simmons and myself.
“OK, 10 seconds people. If you’re not ready now, sit the fuck down and let the professionals do the work.”

In theory, the mission was going to be an easy one. We would be dropping down two clicks in front of an Orion Allegiance weapons manufacturing installation. There was an army barracks about 3 clicks from our landing position, so chances are security would be stepped up there instead of at the weapons factor. From there, we would have to traverse the ground to the rear of the installation while avoiding detection. As usual, the lessons that the history of mankind tries to teach are never listened to, and as a result, security is easy to get past via the back way. That part of the mission was completed successfully.
Once inside the complex, the four groups of three split up. The Sarge had decided his group would stay behind at the rear entrance and make sure the OA didn’t send around someone to examine the area, but needless to say the clock would be ticking. The aim of the mission was to interrupt or halt production of the weapons by any means necessary. The other three teams were assigned to place demolition charges at vital points within the complex.
Everything was going smoothly until Simmons noticed something through the scope of her Sniper Rifle. “Sir,” she said, “we’ve got a bit of a problem.”
“Speak to me Simmons, I don’t want to hear riddles,” he said. His RZ-99 Assault Cannon swung around as he turned to look at her.
“Sir, there’s someone over there just up on the hill to the right just inside the bushes. I don’t know how long he’s been there, I just noticed him as I was making a sweep.”
“I hope you didn’t stop on him. If he’s OA he’d be watching you.”
“No, Sir, I swept right by him as if I didn’t see anything.”
“Good work, Marine.” He turned his attention back to the corridor he was guarding. “Did you hear that Marines? We’ve got company. Let’s make this quick.” He was speaking to the other marines via the headset that everyone wears. It records all vocal transmissions, and has a built in camera to record visuals. It also comes standard with a flip-down Night Vision Lens and an InfraRed Lens. “Group 2, status.”
“All charges laid, returning to your position,” said Romero.
“Good work, Marines. Group 3?”
“Just located the last area, Sir,” came Watkins voice.
“If you can’t get that charge set up in 15 seconds, leave it and get the hell back here.”
“Understood, Sir.”
Gunfire erupted over the comm system. “Who was that?” demanded the Sarge.
“Sir, it was us, sir,” came the voice of Jonston a second later. “We just encountered some resistance. Chambers was wounded. He can still walk.”
“OK Marines,” said the Sarge, “the shit has hit the fan. Everyone drop what you’re doing and get back here on the double.” Yes, Sir’s were heard from all groups. “Yeomans, we’re going to need to get the fuck out of here real quick. Land as close as you can to the rear of the complex.”
“Understood, Sir,” came Yeomans’ reply.
“Uhhh, Sir, I just swept back over the hill. He’s gone,” said Simmons. Just as the last word left her mouth, a bullet sped past her head and penetrated the wall next to where I was standing. Tracing the obvious trajectory, she soon spotted who had fired and let loose a bullet, which blew away half his head. “Fall back, Simmons!” said the Sarge. “Anderson, keep an eye on these corridors.” The Sarge stepped to where Simmons was just lying. A few more people had appeared. He braced himself and swept an arc of fire courtesy of his Assault Cannon over the courtyard just outside the door. Simmons, taking the initiative, got into a position where she could shoot any would-be attacker. She managed to get two before they could fall back in to cover.
Meanwhile, I had my hands full. Some OA troopers had come into the left corridor. The targeting computer made things easy – I aimed roughly square at one, and the computer told the bullets I let fly to aim for the head. Brutal, yet efficient. I didn’t want to have to worry about a trooper that I had already felled regaining a bit of strength and firing in my direction.
Only 7 troopers had come down that corridor, and not a single one of them lived to tell the tale. I heard something behind me and spun around. I almost fired, but I quickly recognised who made the noise. The “No Target” warning that flashed up on the OCTS’ On Screen Display confirmed that it was indeed Group 3.
“Brilliant!” exclaimed the Sarge. “Watkins, get your ass and your TML over here!” The Sarge was referring to his Tactical Missile Launcher. Explosive weapons had come a long way over the years – the Launchers of old were rather big and had big rocket rounds to boot. The TML’s were a bit larger than a standard KT-54, and took clip ammunition. The rockets are pretty small, they travel a fair distance, and they pack one hell of a punch. In other words, if you see someone with one of these and they’re not on your side, you’d better say your final words.
I didn’t take notice of what happened outside as some more OA troopers appeared down the right corridor. I kept count of how many rounds I was using. I had clocked up to 80. Normally, I would have to change clips by now. If I did, I would have probably died. The rest of Group 3 were busy with the left corridor, so I had no backup. Another two OA troopers appeared at the approximate time that I would have just taken the spent clip out. Two burst later and another two bodies were added to the floor.
Simmons decided she was no use at the door, so she got up and turned her attention to the right corridor. She turned around to see me kill the last two troopers. She quickly got down next to me and set herself up. On the way down she noticed that the ammo count readout on my gun was showing 3 bullets remaining. “Lucky thing you had the extra few bullets, huh?”
I grinned as I released the clip and slapped in a new one.
Group 2 appeared and the OSD flashed “No Target” once again. There were only two people in the group though. After a closer look, I said, “Where’s Romero?”
Davis spoke. “OA got her. Grenade. There wasn’t much of her to bring back.” Davis was pale in the face, and one side of him was covered in blood. Poor Romero. She joined because she didn’t want to waste her life. Fate, unfortunately, has a bitter sense of irony.
I was unable to continue that thought for the time being, as I saw something behind Davis. “Duck!” I yelled at him. He ducked, and the OSD flashed “Target” the moment he was out of the gun’s firing trajectory. I let loose a few rounds, but unfortunately the bastard let off a round before my bullets found him. My left shoulder suddenly felt numb. I looked down and noticed the blood starting to come out. Thankfully, Simmons got the other two who followed the trooper who shot me.
Davis noticed my wound and quickly got to work in patching it up. Medicine had also taken leaps and bounds over the years. Back in the day, a thick pad clamped down tight with a bandage was all soldiers had to stop the bleeding from a bullet wound. Now, all Davis had to do was apply a small patch. I’m not quite sure of the inner workings of it, but it contains the bleeding. Unfortunately, it did nothing for my arm, which I couldn’t move.
By the time I was patched up, Chambers had finally returned, minus the rest of Group 4. The Sarge quickly noticed we were all back minus the casualties. “Chambers, how functional are you?” he demanded.
“Side wound, Sir,” he wheezed. “I can still shoot.”
“Good,” the Sarge said. “Groups 2 and 4 are now combined. The new group shall retain Group 2’s previous name.”
“Yeomans, Sir. Dropship half a click east of your current position.”
“OK Marines, you heard the man, we have half a click to cover in hostile territory. There’s 100 metres to the tree line. Group 3 will go first and lay covering fire. Group 2 will set up behind cover and cover Group 3 till they get to the tree line. My group will stay here and cover Group 2 until they are secure, then we will proceed to the tree line and both groups at the tree line will cover Group 2. Once we’re all back at the tree line, we will proceed to the dropship. Understood?”
“Sir, yes Sir!”
“Let’s haul ass, Marines!”

Watkins was pretty quick on the TML. Before he had taken two steps out of the door, he had already loosed off two rounds. Mulholland followed him and laid down some machine gun fire to the right side of Watkins, while Marvin laid down machine gun fire to the right. Group 2 took the opportunity and quickly made way to a transport vehicle parked on a driveway. The fact that they were originally attacking a weapons factory helped here, as the vehicle was armour plated and virtually impenetrable to most weapons. The Sarge laid down some fire down the corridors to distract any trooper considering coming out. I wish I had my left arm functional. Machine Gun’s kick back too much to be handled with one hand, so I pulled out my DF .45 calibre pistol. Group 2 had successfully set up and was laying down cover fire. A few seconds later saw Group 3 reaching the tree line, so the Sarge made the call and moved out. The Assault Cannon is near impossible to use on the move, so Sarge slung it and pulled out a pistol identical to my own. Simmons also slung her Sniper Rifle. To my surprise, she pulled out a KT-00 Hand Held Automatic/Semi Automatic Machine Gun. It was about the same size as my DF, and held twice as much ammo.
The cover-each-other tactic that the Sarge got us to use worked perfectly. Everybody made it to the tree line without any further incident. The Sarge completed the last requirement of the mission by activating the demolition charges that the other teams had placed. I felt a rumble in the ground as we made our way towards the dropship.
When we got back in to orbit and docked with our mothership, the Potemkin, I discovered that the charges had not had the intended effect. It seems that the OA personnel removed all the charges from the critical areas we placed them in. The explosion I felt was those charges, but they didn’t damage the production line. Weapon production was still at 100%. And, to add further insult to injury, the OA assigned more security around the facility. Now the chances of a successful repeat operation were minimal.
My first actual combat mission and it was a failure.
What a difference I’ve made.

Debriefing was a pain in the ass. I wouldn’t have had such a hard time if command didn’t decide to review all the recorded material from our headsets trying to find out what went wrong. On reviewing it, they noticed that my gun had more than 80 rounds in it.
I was trying to work out how to clean my gun with one hand when the Sarge came up to me and said in a low voice, “Anderson, Command has reviewed the footage. They don’t like how your gun fired 92 rounds on one clip.” I looked at him, and before I could say anything, he said, “They debriefed me, but they didn’t say anything about it until after the debriefing. They weren’t happy that I allowed you to use the modifications. They might be putting my reputation before any wrongdoings I have done, but since you don’t have a reputation…” He sighed, then said, “You’re up.”
I was standing in front of the Colonel and two of his Generals. They were seated along a desk, monitors in front of them showing pieces of the footage. I was nervous, but the debriefing went by without a mention of the modifications.
A feeling of relief came over me when they finally said “Dismissed.” I turned around and started to walk off when the Colonel said, “Just a minute, Marine.”
The feeling of dread returned. I turned around and said, “Sir?”
“We’re going to go off the record here. You might have noticed that we did not mention the modifications made to your gun.” The feeling deepened. “This is because upon reviewing the footage, we saw that it in fact saved the operation from turning out any worse than it had.”
“That it did, Sir.”
“But that doesn’t make it any less illegal to use those modifications. We’re going off the record with this because, not only did it positively affect the outcome of the mission, we also believe you are an asset worth keeping. But mark my word, you screw up once more, and you will be out of the UPMC so fast you won’t feel the door hit your ass. Understood?”
“Sir, yes Sir,” I said grimly.
The Colonel stared at me for a few seconds, then said, “Dismissed.”

It wasn’t until everyone else was debriefed that I got a chance to speak to Simmons. I was having some success cleaning my gun when she walked in to the storage room, took a seat a few seats over, and started cleaning her rifle. I wasn’t quite sure what to say first, so I started off with the ubiquitous “Hi.”
“Hey – Anderson, was it?” I nodded. “How’s your arm?”
“I’m getting operated on in an hour. Should be as good as new.”
“Yeah, nerve reattachment is no big deal these days. How does it feel?”
“There’s a bit of pain around the bullet, which is being helped by both a localised pain killer and the fact that I can’t feel anything below the wound.”
She smiled and said, “Well, even though you weren’t so lucky yourself-“ she gestured towards my wound “- you were good luck for everyone else.”
I frowned and said, “How so?”
“They only had security guards at the weapons factory. Security guards aren’t trained as much as military, which is part of the reason why they were eager to get in the line of fire. The other reason was that they were wearing standard issue body armour, you know, the ‘block most bullets’ variety. As luck would have it, the OA doesn’t issue helmets for their security guards, and your targeting computer was set for a head shot. Everyone else had a bit of a hard time because they had to aim high, but because of your computer – and your luck – you were able to hold a corridor pretty much by yourself.”
While she was saying this, she had moved to sit opposite me. It looked like she was about to say something else when we heard some commotion from the recreation room (or RecRoom for short). It sounded like someone was shouting. I grabbed my gun and a nearby clip, and got up. Simmons followed me.

As we got closer to the RecRoom, we could hear what the shouting was about. It sounded like Davis. He was saying things from “I want out of here!” to “Don’t fucking move or you’ll end out like Romero,” “Get me the Colonel” to “Stay the fuck back!”
“Sounds like Davis snapped,” I whispered to Simmons.
“I’ll go get someone,” she whispered back.
“No,” I said quickly, then more slowly, “No. It’ll get worse if more people are involved.” I handed her my gun and the clip. “How quickly can you get to the other entrance?” I said in regards to the RecRoom.
“10 seconds, if I run,” she replied.
“Run. I’ll distract him from this entrance while you line up a shot. Don’t fire though, only fire if it’s the last resort.”
She ran off, and I walked in through the entrance. Marvin, Chambers and Mullholland were on the wrong end of an assault cannon. “What’s goin on, Davis?” I asked. He glanced over to me, and then backed up against the viewscreen on the wall. “Fuck off and get me the Colonel, Anderson, or I’ll shoot you and these three!”
“I’m not going anywhere until you drop that gun,” I told him.
He aimed the gun at Marvin. “It’s going to get real messy in here in a second!”
If my timing was right, Simmons would almost be at the other entrance, so I said, “Davis, you are aware that you’re not wearing your body armour?”
He was silent for a second, then said, “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
My timing was right, and I noticed Simmons just outside the other entrance aiming the gun at Davis. “As a result, you have nothing on you to tell my targeting computer that you’re a friendly target. Simmons over there has it pointed at you, and it’s still set for a head shot.”
Davis glanced at where I pointed. His face seemed to go a shade paler. “Now drop the gun or there will be a mess Davis, and it’s not the one you’re planning.”
Davis’ face showed a mix of emotions – fear, anger, and sorrow. His hands started to shake. Realising what would happen if his shaking got out of hand, he dropped the gun. It landed on the floor with a loud clang. He sunk to the floor and put his face in his hands.
I sped over to Davis and grabbed the gun. Marvin got up and walked over to Davis. Simmons had walked away from the other entrance and was nowhere in sight, so I assumed she had gone to get someone. I had just placed the gun down next to a table and turned around to see that Marvin had picked Davis up off the floor with his left arm. Before I knew what was happening, he swung his right arm and collected Davis square on the jaw with his fist. “Prepared to fucking kill me, huh?” he yelled, then punched him again. Mulholland and Chambers had gotten up and were trying to pull Marvin back. I pulled Davis away.
After a few seconds, Marvin stopped struggling. He was subsequently let go. A few seconds later, Simmons reappeared with the Sarge and a doctor. The Sarge was barely in the room when he said, “I want full reports from everyone once the doc’s checked you out.” He then walked over to Davis. I was still holding him up, so I heard what he said even though he was speaking in a low volume. “You do know that what you just did was against the law?” he asked. Davis nodded, a movement that was barely noticeable. “You’re being placed under arrest.” The Sarge took Davis away from my grip and walked off with him, still speaking.
I didn’t take notice of what else he said as the doctor had come over. I told him nothing happened to me and that I was due to have an operation in 55 minutes for my arm. Doctor’s never seem to be satisfied when you tell them that nothing’s wrong. I had to endure a quick check over, and then he was gone.

I quickly prepared a voice report and handed it to the Sarge before I went in for surgery. He told me that the hearing would be in 12 hours and I would be required to be present. I had already thought that now, especially, my gun modifications would come up, so instead of denying it, I just spoke truthfully; in my report, it stated that I told Davis that Simmons had a head shot lined up. I didn’t mention that it was because of the OTC, but it was still the truth. The Sarge approached me after the hearing and commented on my sly telling of the truth, but I didn’t think it was all that sly. Just missing a fact that wasn’t necessary to get the point across was all.
The hearing went smoothly. Everyone’s reports were presented to the Colonel and his two Generals. The doctor presented medical reports for everyone, including Davis. The doctor said that he was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress, and had a case of Temporary Insanity when he held the Marine’s hostage.
Once the reports were over, the three men up front went to discuss what the fate of Davis and Marvin would be (Marvin was being trialed for assault). After half an hour, they returned. Davis was to be given a medical discharge (“We can’t have Marines causing danger for other Marines once they have seen a fellow Marine die,” he had said), and Marvin was given 3 months at a penal colony on a mining planet.

A week before we arrived was a turning point in the history of the planet we were orbiting. A fleet of OA warships was amassing in the system. In response, we sent forth a bigger fleet. The battle was a tough one, as all the OA ships were at full alert for a then unknown reason. Not only did we destroy all their ships, we also cleaned out their orbital defence systems. As a result, we could park in orbit and not have to worry about missiles from space and ground stations. The ship I was stationed on, the UPMC Unity, was given the assignment of rendering the war industries of the planet useless. The industries included weapons and ammunitions manufacturing, army training camps, vehicle construction, and various others. There was a reason why the fleet was forming in this system, as I was about to find out.

I was sitting on a lounge in the RecRoom with Simmons. The viewscreen was showing reports on how the war effort was going. I wasn’t paying attention to it.
“You know, I still don’t know your first name, Anderson,” said Simmons.
“William,” I said. “Or Bill for short.”
“Hello Bill, I’m Elaine.”
I gave a small lopsided grin. “Hi, Elaine. Nice weather we’re having, aren’t we?” She almost laughed, but stopped at a grin.
The Sarge chose that moment to walk in to the RecRoom. “Marines, move ass to the briefing room. We’ve got a mission that needs to be done yesterday. Go!”
The Sarge went and got Mulholland and Chambers from the sleeping quarters, but not before telling me to go get the newcomers from our launching bay. They had just arrived, but apparently the Sarge was in the Colonel’s office when they landed.

[GooberMan]

hmmm... does no one have an opinion of this?

[Zaldron]

Patience, it's long. That scares most kids ;)

[GooberMan]

ok, I'll give it another week and then post another "where's the opinions" post :P

[Zaldron]

I just finished, and I really like it. It has a lot of potential to actually end as a novel.

[GooberMan]

Once I finish it, I might consider re-writing it and detailing it fully, or I might propose it as a television series as I personally reckon the whole story would make a good TV series (that'll mean it'll have to get even more detailed than a novel as it'd go for at least a season and that means at least 20 hours of television...)

[GooberMan]

(The main plot could easilly be stretched out over a season if there's enough subplots in it...)

[Zaldron]

(The main plot could easilly be stretched out over a season if there's enough subplots in it...)

Yeah, but would you really want to do that? It's like in Anime, if you watch the first episode and the last 5 ones there's a 90% possibility you'll understand the plot. Redundant content to the fullest ;)

[GooberMan]

hmmmz, wellz, look at Dark Angel, you get reminders of what happens all the time, and it's still rather watchable (and not just because of Jessica Alba even tho that's a highlight of the show :P)

[dsm]

I hope you're still working on the next installment.

[GooberMan]

Mainly working it out in my head, I've been busy mapping and scripting lately (I'm determined to have a WAD in /newstuff for next Sunday and I'm still workin away at MAP02 of Doom - The Arcade Game), so the second installment is being a bit delayed.