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With our armaments running low, Cpl. Zizo called for a Regroup. During the rearming process, we discovered that our efforts were ahead of schedule, despite some of our earlier defeats. We actually gained an hour to rescue the princess. The popular uprising was still in full swing and the Black Guard was desperately trying to quell it. With a bit of luck, we may make it to the Citadel, hungry for a fight and pissed off enough to win it.
The new troop shuttle is coming down and we’ve received word that Cpl. Zizo’s relieved and to be sent back up to the Schenectady. Insurance Man and Shay Shay are going along with her. Our new CO’s Sergeant Marty Fenelon aka Steel Dome. Fenelon’s a great guy, despite his hard headedness and lack of follicular abundance. I’ve been informed he wants me to be in his squad, along with Pvt. John “Trademark” McKie. McKie’s about as anal as a middle micro-manager, always getting in your business to find out what you’re doing, how you’re doing it, and how he can make it more efficient. Sorry, McKie, your wife doesn’t enjoy sex with you because you approach it like doing legal research. Great for you, shitty for her.
Cpl. Amoroso’s staying behind, as is Pvt. Holbrook. So, who’s going to round out the Fuckups? What the? Aw, shit. Not Poodle Cut. Jeez, I hate that fucking whiner.
Location: Monastery
Time: T-6 hours
Intel provided us with an iffy choice. We could continue the straightforward route, and go through the Republic’s Holy Ground (Don’t ask me why it’s holy. My guess somebody dropped a plate of spaghetti and it formed the face of his mother or something) and its trio of checkpoints. Or, we could bypass that and head to a monastery off the beaten path. Biometric scans did not reveal any human activity, so it appeared to be abandoned. Sgt. Fenelton thought it would be best to cut through the monastery and then get back on the main track. So, that’s what we did.
Big mistake.
Intel was telling the truth about there not being any human activity. The truth is, the monastery may have had a bustling coterie of monks praising the abstract art of spilt noodles and whatnot.
But I think that was before the swarm of Digger Bugs took up residence there.
If you don’t know what Digger Bugs are, they’re a carnivorous beetle about the size of a man’s fist. They breed like rabbits and eat everything that’s warm blooded and/or moving. They especially prefer live prey, and their gooey insides, to carrion and will merrily dig into every orifice you have to get to your chewy center while you scream for the sweet release of death.
Sgt. Fenelon and Pvt. Kerske took a light scout car up to the monastery to make sure the place was deserted. When they exited the vehicle, the bugs, a zillion of ‘em, attacked. Fenelon was able to make it back to the scout car prior to the insects making a meal out of his intestines. Poodle Cut flipped the fuck out and ran past the car, unlimbering her rocket launcher. When she couldn’t run any more she screamed hysterically, armed her launcher, and let loose a smart rocket into the horde of the things.
Good news, she turned the bugs into a huge glop the consistency of refried beans. Bad news, the blast was near the car and flipped it over, knocking out Sgt. Fenelon. When we reached them, I nearly had to hold back Cpl. Amoroso from decking the private, who was too busy patting herself on the back over what she’d done to the bugs as opposed to realizing that she nearly killed our CO. After tending to Sgt. Fenelon, Godfather again assumed command and told us to move out.
Next stop, Tripoli shores.
Location: Shores of Tripoli
Time: T-6 hours
Lake Tripoli is one of the largest lakes on this planet, it’s also surrounded by a lush jungle I’ve come to call as Satan’s Taint. It’s hot, humid, and hard as Hell to get through. The jungle gives way the closer you get to the lake, and I’d love to take a dip, but Cpl. Amoroso said it was too dangerous to dally around here. Currently, we’re circumnavigating the southern edge of the lake and I’m driving with Kitty in our GEV – 6 on point. Over the comm, we hear that the uprising is still eating the Viceroy’s lunch and kissing his girlfriend. I’m about to nod off in the cupola, when a flock of birds take wing to the air.
Something startled them. I called down to Kitty that something’s up and told her to halt the tank. When I looked up, I saw a haggard line of flying scout cars passing over the lake. From the looks of them, they looked like they took a beating and didn’t land one at all. Being one not to look a gift horse in the mouth, I rotated the turret and armed the autocannon.
My first burst took down the lead car, sending the others into evasive maneuvers. My second burst split another car in half. The last one turned in our direction, and began a strafing run. As I quickly ducked into the protective confines of the tank, I heard a trilling sound coming from the driver’s hatch. A moment later, I heard the familiar whining of a diving object and a huge splash.
I cautiously popped my head over the edge of the cupola to see the last scout car sinking underneath the waves, with burn marks on the canopy. I then leaned forward to see Kitty half out of the driver’s hatch, a laser rifle in her hand.
“Great shootin’ there, missy!” I exclaimed to her. She responded by giving me a thumbs up and a huge grin.
The rest of our team joined us and got caught up to speed over what happened. Godfather came over and congratulated me.
“I didn’t know you knew how to operate heavy machinery,” she said.
“I know how to operate lots of things,” I responded, rather flippantly in retrospect. I meant it as a joke and yet it came out rather sleazy. Her face clouded over and she walked away without saying another word, leaving me to draw a hand over my face in embarrassment.
Next stop, Mt. Yamaguchi.
