RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
06-19-2016, 01:29 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-19-2016, 02:53 PM by AgentBlue.)
“I hope everyone brought their orientation packets! Because I’ve forgotten mine.”
A dozen recruits stared blankly in response. No, literally - Raime had never seen such expressionless faces. “Hello? Is anybody home?”
Silence. “You lot don’t seem very enthusiastic.”
“That’s because we aren’t,” one of the recruits said at last, “We’ve got no backup, no credits, no special. We’ve got a hundred mechs and a mysterious and unassailable alien force outside our base. We’ve got jack [bleep] and we’re expected to overcome this invasion force, while our [bleep]ing families are probably dead. Orientation packets? What the [bleep]?”
Cautiously, Raime raised one finger. “One question.”
“[Bleep] you.”
“Can you... not swear at all?”
“What?”
“Snrk -- okay, okay. Could you, uh, say ‘fuck’.”
“[Bleep].”
Raime burst out laughing.
---
“Leave me alone!” PFC Geraldine Cole shouted, as she stormed briskly down a gunmetal-gray corridor, giggling interloper in tow. “You’re [bleep]ing weird.”
“Pffffft!” The interloper barely stifled another bout of laughing.
“Stop that! We’re going to go see the Commander. He’ll sort you out.”
They paused at the foot of a ladder while the humorously-strange woman took a few deep breaths. “Seriously, though. No swearing?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now come on, grab the ladder.” She grabbed a free hand and touched it to a rung -
- when the world stopped blurring, they were in another corridor, one slightly more richly appointed.
“Huh. All right.” Geraldine looked the interloper up and down. “Maybe we can trust you after all.”
“Why do you say that all of a sudden?” This was accompanied by a motion that seemed like it was supposed to be an inquisitive tilt of the head. As it were it wasn’t so much a tilt as a capsize. With a start, Geraldine noticed the crude tape encircling her companion’s throat.
“W-well, the ladders are, um, they’re genetic locks, so only us recruits can pass through them, a-and…” her self-control broke. “What the [bleep] happened to your neck?”
“Oh? Oh! I nearly forgot! Do you have a pair of scissors?”
“I’m.” Geraldine didn’t know what to say. “Maybe. Maybe later.”
The interloper stuck out a slender hand. “My name’s Raime. Raime Truncata. It was impolite of me to introduce myself so late!”
“Geraldine Cole. Private first class, whatever that means.” Her tone grew bitter. “No wait, I know what it means: cannon fodder. You flyboys get to ride the mechs. We just get stepped on.”
“I’d never step on you. That would be a waste of resources that would have been better allocated to a stepladder! That’s a better word for those ‘ladders’ you have. Stepladders! Because you step-”
“Thank you for your input…” she peeked at Raime’s uniform. “Airman First Class Truncata. Huh. You technically outrank me.”
“I am an Executive.”
“Don’t get any funny ideas, Raime. Everyone’s rank is the same when death looks you in the face.” She shuddered. “I only hope none of the aliens have gotten on board."
A dozen recruits stared blankly in response. No, literally - Raime had never seen such expressionless faces. “Hello? Is anybody home?”
Silence. “You lot don’t seem very enthusiastic.”
“That’s because we aren’t,” one of the recruits said at last, “We’ve got no backup, no credits, no special. We’ve got a hundred mechs and a mysterious and unassailable alien force outside our base. We’ve got jack [bleep] and we’re expected to overcome this invasion force, while our [bleep]ing families are probably dead. Orientation packets? What the [bleep]?”
Cautiously, Raime raised one finger. “One question.”
“[Bleep] you.”
“Can you... not swear at all?”
“What?”
“Snrk -- okay, okay. Could you, uh, say ‘fuck’.”
“[Bleep].”
Raime burst out laughing.
---
“Leave me alone!” PFC Geraldine Cole shouted, as she stormed briskly down a gunmetal-gray corridor, giggling interloper in tow. “You’re [bleep]ing weird.”
“Pffffft!” The interloper barely stifled another bout of laughing.
“Stop that! We’re going to go see the Commander. He’ll sort you out.”
They paused at the foot of a ladder while the humorously-strange woman took a few deep breaths. “Seriously, though. No swearing?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now come on, grab the ladder.” She grabbed a free hand and touched it to a rung -
- when the world stopped blurring, they were in another corridor, one slightly more richly appointed.
“Huh. All right.” Geraldine looked the interloper up and down. “Maybe we can trust you after all.”
“Why do you say that all of a sudden?” This was accompanied by a motion that seemed like it was supposed to be an inquisitive tilt of the head. As it were it wasn’t so much a tilt as a capsize. With a start, Geraldine noticed the crude tape encircling her companion’s throat.
“W-well, the ladders are, um, they’re genetic locks, so only us recruits can pass through them, a-and…” her self-control broke. “What the [bleep] happened to your neck?”
“Oh? Oh! I nearly forgot! Do you have a pair of scissors?”
“I’m.” Geraldine didn’t know what to say. “Maybe. Maybe later.”
The interloper stuck out a slender hand. “My name’s Raime. Raime Truncata. It was impolite of me to introduce myself so late!”
“Geraldine Cole. Private first class, whatever that means.” Her tone grew bitter. “No wait, I know what it means: cannon fodder. You flyboys get to ride the mechs. We just get stepped on.”
“I’d never step on you. That would be a waste of resources that would have been better allocated to a stepladder! That’s a better word for those ‘ladders’ you have. Stepladders! Because you step-”
“Thank you for your input…” she peeked at Raime’s uniform. “Airman First Class Truncata. Huh. You technically outrank me.”
“I am an Executive.”
“Don’t get any funny ideas, Raime. Everyone’s rank is the same when death looks you in the face.” She shuddered. “I only hope none of the aliens have gotten on board."
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So very British / But then again | People are machines Machines are people | Oh hai there | There's no time
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Superhero 1920s noir | Multigenre Half-Life | Changing the future | Command line interface
Tu ventire felix? | Clockwork for eternity | Explosions in spacetime