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BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL
CATEGORY: FICTION TIMES READ: 989 RATING: 0 SERIES: FIREFLY
Redemptions Revolution PT4 Clovis Point
Ten miles north of the city of Mintho, planet Persephone, late February 2507
In a low crawl there is little to be seen of the impending doom that stalks them. Slowly peeking up, his head laid sideways, Allen spies two Alliance soldiers relieving themselves behind the camp. Though dark out their distinctive purple and gray uniforms tell exactly who they are. Without reservations he slides his sidearm from its holster. Crawling inches closer he can hear them talking in the darkened surroundings.
“…but that’s why you just pay ‘em and leave. Gonna cost you more in the end if you have to keep ‘em around for the long haul.” Says soldier one.
“I don’t get why we gotta leave payment. We’re the gorram military. Either they can take it or take a bullet in the head.” gloats soldier two.
“We’re getting’ discount prices now. Just think. When this is all over we’ll be stuck paying thrice as much, take a chance at goin’ to lockup, or saving for years for one chance with a real Companion if we can even attract one.” states soldier one.
“Screw that! I’ll just stay in some outer rim planet post and run ‘em out myself. No point in payin’ for it if’n you already own it.” soldier two raises his voice, “Nee ta ma duh. Tyen-shia suo-yo duh run doh gai si!” *Fuck everyone in the universe to death*
Both soldiers slump to the ground as Allen took the raised voice and used it to cover his final movement before firing. After sitting still and checking to see if he gained any attention he moves to the bodies, soldier one is still breathing. Allen rolls him onto his face while pulling a large hunting knife from under his coat, the turkey feather and rabbits foot dangle into sight for a brief moment. Pressing the point of the knife at the base of the soldier’s skull with his left hand he uses his right, still holding his pistol, to push hard on the pommel of the knife. The soldier’s body twitches slightly as Allen moves to check the equipment the he carries. Aside from a can opener and a fragmentation grenade he carries very little. Soldier two is a bit more helpful as he carried an Alliance sidearm and several magazines. Upon further inspection of soldier number two it is discovered that he is, or was an NCO. A personal data recorder in the NCO’s pocket reveals that the camp is used as a forward supply camp for inbound Alliance troop movement. With two dozen soldiers present it seems an easy thing to eliminate this camp before moving on. Allen collects the items and sets them in a satchel under his coat.
Allen speaks into a small microphone in the collar of his coat. “Squad one clear for strong side cover fire on the east side of the camp. Squad two on me.”
The sound of a light machine gun far to Allen’s left cues the remainder of the squad behind him to rise from the brush and move forward into the camp. Allen moves to the right as some light explosions decimate several tents on the opposite side of the camp. Return fire can be heard but the rate of fire seems to slow as the Alliance soldiers in the camp were caught sleeping. An occasional shot from Allen’s squad can be heard but soon all is quiet.
Speaking into the microphone again Allen looks at Amarok who is standing in front of him. “Take what you can use, frag the rest.”
A reply in Allen’s earpiece, “You’re relieved of point ‘Rider, I got it from here.”
“Aye Sarge. I see a fuel dump a hundred mikes in front of your position.” Allen says into the microphone.
The camouflaged area barely discernable in the dark erupts into a ball of flame ignited by a well placed grenade from a grenade launcher.
As the fireball lowers Allen’s attention suddenly turns to movement at the corner of his right eye.
“Armor. We got armor! Sarge, they’re coming right for you!” Allen nearly screams into the microphone. He raises his left fist into the air and fans out his fingers. Squad two quickly turns back to the tree line and disappears.
Over the microphone the sergeant on the other side can be heard hollering orders. “Lets go lets go lets go. Assholes and elbows gentlemen!”
The Alliance tank fires a shot from its main gun. The bank of soil below First squads position explodes and collapses. Rolling fast, the Alliance tank stops in the middle of the camp and begins firing a heavy machinegun toward First squad. Watching as he backs out of the camp Allen waits to check the status of first squad. If the Alliance is listening then giving away their position is the last thing he wants.
A quick tap on Allen’s shoulder and her turns to see Amarok who tells him, “Corporal has Odachi setting a charge on that turtle machine. You and me need to be ready to cover First squad if it do not work.”
Even in the fire light of the former fuel dump it is difficult to see Odachi making his way toward the tank. Once there Odachi manipulates a satchel for a moment before to everyone’s surprise the rear hatch of the vehicle opens. Odachi quickly pulls the carbine slung across his back and fires into the portal emptying the magazine in the process. He tosses the satchel inside and slams the hatch shut. Sprinting away Odachi ducks into the short tree line before a gunner can man an exterior gun. The gunner who had popped open the turrets number three hatch fires a blanket of rounds into the tree line. Tracer rounds can be seen bouncing wildly into the air as would angry red hornets against a fast moving vehicle.
The explosion of the satchel is muffled by the tanks armor. Fire erupts from the turrets open hatch. The gunner rolls onto the ground kicking and screaming as his coveralls burn through to his skin.
A single carbine round fires from the small tree line Odachi had ran to.
“First squad clear. We lost Pack. Got two wounded including the Sarge.” A voice stated half out of breath through Allen’s ear piece.
“Odachi a good man.” Amarok says to Allen referring more to the mercy kill than the destruction of the tank.
From the earpiece, “PDU is moving in to reinforce. They say they’ll lend us a mule so we can get casualties to the rear. O just met up with us. He’s a little singed but he’s all right.”
“O’s with First squad.” Allen tells Amarok.
Amarok looks behind them before looking back at Allen. “Corp say to meet with First squad. You okay?”
Allen stands and looks at his feet for a moment. Realizing he is still grasping tightly the hunting knife in his left had he wipes blood from both sides of the blade on his lower left pant leg before sheathing it under his coat. After holstering his sidearm Allen stretches his arms high into the air.
“a’ch-klee hun’duc cl’indog cl’ookt.” *I need a smoke and a drink* Allen tells Amarok.
“e’ch’klee hund’uc cl’indog cl’ookd Rider!” *We need smokes and drinks Rider* Amarok corrects, including himself in the need for a break. “Og cl’ ond khlee hoot.” *And time with my wives* adds Amarok.
Looking up into the darkened sky Allen rests his left hand on his heart and seems to say a prayer before turning and disappearing in the direction of First squad.
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