Member
Altered Tundra
Fading Memory
SkyeOfStars
mickilennial
Kuro
Neziul
Haha
PrinceAlexusAlan Fouren
The darkness was thick and empty, but the worst feeling of all was the dread it exuded. Silence, no lights, no sound, just the ominous cloak of black in front of the men as they slowly filed out of the barracks and into the hall. The entire thing put Alan at unease; he wasn’t too keen on standing in such an open area, especially with men armed with rifles approaching. He knew they had to move fast.Alan had spent a half-decade on his own and in dangerous situations. But he’d never been in a situation like this. Suddenly the safety of the military compound felt more like a coffin, and the wide walls felt as if they would close in on him. This wasn’t safety. It was a death trap.
Jingo looked up and sent a quick prayer to the lord, hoping that he still took requests and requesting to not die.
“Hard te be stealfy wen yer probably op against guys wit nigh' vision.” He mumbled, “Ski'ers, take pooint.”
“We’re going left here.” Alan said, as the robotic dog moved on ahead, his metal claws clicking against the metal and concrete floor. “Well, we’re not gonna win with silence. Jingo, will Skitters alert us if he sees someone down the hall?”
“He dun’ee need ta, odds are tha gunfire will be alert enuf.” Jingo couldn't help himself; the heavy atmosphere and dark mood was insufferable. JJingo hissed, all he could see was the faint speck of light emanating from his ammunition indicator. “Aye ‘we will, you’ll ‘ear the ski’ering stop.”
“Don’t forget, night vision doesn’t mean they can see for miles. Skitters’ sensors are probably better than a set of goggles or cybernetics. Let’s trust him to give a warning on when to find cover or a new route.” Alan closed his eyes and prayed he was right. He’d been in plenty of foxholes before, but he was alone back then; he wasn’t responsible for the lives of others and he didn’t have to rely on others. However, it was here that he needed Skitters’ eyes, Jingo’s aim, and Joshua’s trust.
Jingo nodded despite not being able to be seen. He knew very well of Skitters abilities. The dog was part of a line of robotic canines used for various combat purposes, and Skitters just so happened to be a prison dog versed in indoor spaces and outdoor chases.
As they moved down the long path, Alan’s heart stopped when the scraping of Skitters’ paws came to a halt. Alan immediately knew what was happening. They were in the shit, and bad. They were only a few feet from the next t-junction. But it seemed their luck had already run out; they were cornered. They could go back to the barracks, or try and push ahead. Either way was probably equally as dangerous now.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
In the distance, the sound of dozens of feet in the distance echoed throughout the hall, filling Alan’s ears like the roar of an engine. They were coming. He motioned in the low light for the others to kneel down, and quickly pulled up his datatool’s map; looking for some other route. There was none.
Jingo released a long, silent sigh and flipped the safety off of his pistol, approaching Alan he placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “De ye truust me?” Jingo hissed into his ear.
“I mean, we’re all going to die anyway, so why not?”
Alan had gotten used to Joshua’s quips after a month of training alongside him, and had grown to like the other man.Though there was something very much more real and cynical about Josh now, though given the situation and his grogginess it was likely his filter wasn’t exactly present. But there seemed to be something different in the darkness as desperation seemed to engulf them and outside of how Joshua spoke; Alan had caught it for a moment as he noticed Joshua’s stance with his handgun and knife— it was military. So that’s how it was. Alan constantly felt out of place among so many of the pilots; his skills had been largely self-taught. Even though he’d gotten better, enough to purposefully fix his scores during training, but he’d seen how Stein carried herself. How some of the actual soldiers acted. This was like them.
Alan slowly nodded. “Yeah. I trust both of you. What’s the plan?”
“Ligh’ them uup.”
No going back now it seemed. Alan cranked up the strength on his datatool’s light to max and aimed it down the hallway, suddenly erupting the hall into bright white light, enough to get an outline of the five armed figures suddenly stunned by the light show. A perceptive eye would also have been able to see the sprinkler fixture hanging from above the would-be assassins. There it was: this was their chance.
Despite only having one eye, Jingo spotted the metal glint in the combined lights of Skitters and Alan. Taking aim and closing an eye out of habit, Jingo fired, a flash of red light bursting from its muzzle and striking one of the sprinklers.
For a moment Skitters stood still as the assailants writhed in the blinding light, then he pounced. Charging at the closest man, electricity arched between the two electrodes on Skitters muzzle; the taser snapped and sizzled as it pressed into the man’s exposed throat, in the gap between his chin and the collar of his uniform.
The screams of the soldiers were evident as the sound of gunfire and metal echoed in the corridor, as two of the soldiers swung backward— the neon green of their eyes shifting to a crimson red as one of them switched out his weapon.
“SUPPRESSING FIRE!”
A blitz of blue and red flew through the corridors as the two soldiers took aim at the approaching enemies— with three of their own allies in front of them.
“MOVE! FUCKING MOVE, NOW!”
Alan kept his light shining forward, acting as both a target and as a distraction as he serpentined forward, holding his pipe in his free hand. He felt his feet give way with the slick floors, and fell to his ass, sliding forward. It was sheer luck, as red beams of energy tore into the wall he was standing at. Alan felt the heat radiate near his head as he spun in the water, lights flashing from his datatool as he attempted to retain his footing.
Shit, shitshitshitshit-
“Al!”
There was a shout as Alan collided with the side of a metallic bench and considering if he was placed only a few feet to the right it would’ve been straight into the crossing corridors he was lucky and he knew it. His mind raced as he struggled to get to the next step: because right now he was still going to die very, very soon. His eyes caught Joshua’s own who had slung himself in the frame of a locked door; they didn’t have much for cover but both of them were trying to not sprawl themselves in the open. The dark-haired man looked to Alan with an expression that reflected Alan’s own thoughts— we are going to die, aren’t we?
That fearful gaze struck Alan in the stomach. This was it, wasn’t it? He’d led his squad to their death, just like he feared. Deep within his stomach, he felt something burning. A pit of fire. Dicer, split in two. His neck still connected to the charred remains of his NC. Elicott— no corpse to even bury. His geny had exploded, taking him and one of the raiders with him. Janus never even reached his NC. He’d been crushed in the hand of one. These soldiers came into their home and murdered the people they ate beside every afternoon. These bastards were taking everything away. They were going to kill him.
He wouldn’t let them kill his squad.
Alan pushed the bench forward, clenching the metal pole in both hands. He began to scream.
