Post by farcry11 on Jun 6, 2014 5:52:15 GMT
"CHARGE!", Conrad roared in to the headset of his suit, climbing up over the edge of the massive trench. The two hundred men and women under his command, all clad in power armor, followed behind, yelling battle cries and firing their weapons towards the oncoming tide of red and gold. A massive force of Marxists- infantrymen, mechas, blade-tanks- all defending the massive hill. Within, Ember had been told, rested a massive Marxist compound- containing such facilities as research areas, troop cloners, and communications. It was an essential point , and it had to be taken.
The aging warrior shrugged off bullets as they pinged uselessly against his battle-worn power armor, and he continued to charge forward, a plasma pistol in his left hand and an energy saber in his right. He swung the saber above his head, roaring in to his headset, and picked up the pace, bursting in to a bulky run. His troops followed suit, and suddenly, battle was met between the two armies. Ember struck out left and right with his saber, shredding Russians to pieces. He fired his pistol indiscriminately as well, not caring whether his shots connected or not. Steadily, he pushed onwards, carving a swathe of blood through the inferiorly equipped foe. Again and again he struck out, his navy-and-silver power armor becoming drenched in blood. Half of an NT soldier flew past him, trailing crimson in the chill morning air. Somewhere ahead, a Marxist mech burst in to flames as a plasma shot connected with it's fuel tank. Screams filled the air- unanswered pleas for help, mercy, forgiveness, cries of untold agony and meaningless pain. Death permeated the very atmosphere.
Conrad grunted as a tracer shot crushed the armor on his left shoulder inwards, shattering the bone. He dropped to a knee, struggling back up and putting his sword through a man's sternum. He stumbled onwards, not looking behind him as he made his way up the hill. The plasma pistol had dropped from his useless left hand. He trudged on, sometimes shouldering his way past men with powerful strikes, sometimes cutting straight through them. A blade tank rolled past him in his limited peripheral vision , going to kill his men. He kept on ascending, climbing to that point in the sky. The sun hang heavy over the green hill, which was quickly turning crimson.
A shot took him through the leg this time- the right one. He fell to a knee, dropped his sword, and struggled to get up. He began limping, then stumbled, falling to the ground. As his vision focused, he saw something next to him... A banner. The banner of NanoTrasen. He reached out and clasped it with his good hand, using it as a sort of crutch to stand up. He limped onwards, feeling weaker shots from small arms fire bounce off his back. The battle had moved downhill now, and the path ahead was empty. Onwards, he limped, grunting as each step sent blood spurting from his leg. He was so close...
Before he reached the top of the hill, tracer shots began to home in on him. He felt his ribs shatter as two took him through the back, and his right leg was hit again. He screamed in to his headset, then gritted his teeth. He stumbled onwards, tracers zipping past him, and somehow, with a burst of strength, reached the top. He raised the banner above his hand, jamming the point in to the ground. Just as he planted the flag, a hollow-point tracer hit his right shoulder, blowing his arm off completely. The arm remained attached to the flag as he slumped down to his knees, and then fell on to his back. The bullets stopped coming. He screamed in s tortured fashion in to his headset.
Conrad breathed raggedly, the breath coming in short bursts. With great difficulty, he managed to lift his left hand and disengage his helmet's lock, causing it to pop off. His beard unfurled, and his balding head shined in the sum. Pushing himself with his legs, he managed to prop himself up on the banner, and face the battle. He watched, in a kind of silent awe and resignation, as his force battled to the last- each troop seemed to carry with him a grim determination to bring down as many men as he could with him. Conrad smiled weakly as blood dribbled out of the side of his mouth. He opened his mouth, saying,
"In all my years, I shall never see anything more beautiful than a battle in full swing."
He didn't know who he was talking to, or why, but he did not care- for he was dead. Dead to the pain that coursed throughout his body, dead to the battle, dead to it all. Soon, he would be dead literally rather than figuratively.
He managed to hang on until he saw his last man go down under and irrepressible tide of red and gold, firing his weapon in to the air as he was dismembered by a P.E.A.S. Conrad frowned grimly, a lump rising in his throat and a tear coursing down his cheek. As darkness began to envelop his vision, he simply thought this- perhaps , for a man of his age and caliber, there was no better way to go out. His head slumped forward, his vision went dark, and with a final spurt of blood from his wounds, he passed.
On a beautiful day , in the fields of a war-torn colony planet, Honorary Captain Conrad Ember led 200 soldiers of the NanoTrasen Power Armor forces in a hopeless attack against a fortified enemy position. Every single NT soldier was killed, including the captain- who's body was found when the hill was taken three days later. He was slumped against a NanoTrasen banner at the top of the hill, his dismembered arm still attached to it. His face had a look of tranquility. The battle came to be historically known as "Ember's Hike".
The aging warrior shrugged off bullets as they pinged uselessly against his battle-worn power armor, and he continued to charge forward, a plasma pistol in his left hand and an energy saber in his right. He swung the saber above his head, roaring in to his headset, and picked up the pace, bursting in to a bulky run. His troops followed suit, and suddenly, battle was met between the two armies. Ember struck out left and right with his saber, shredding Russians to pieces. He fired his pistol indiscriminately as well, not caring whether his shots connected or not. Steadily, he pushed onwards, carving a swathe of blood through the inferiorly equipped foe. Again and again he struck out, his navy-and-silver power armor becoming drenched in blood. Half of an NT soldier flew past him, trailing crimson in the chill morning air. Somewhere ahead, a Marxist mech burst in to flames as a plasma shot connected with it's fuel tank. Screams filled the air- unanswered pleas for help, mercy, forgiveness, cries of untold agony and meaningless pain. Death permeated the very atmosphere.
Conrad grunted as a tracer shot crushed the armor on his left shoulder inwards, shattering the bone. He dropped to a knee, struggling back up and putting his sword through a man's sternum. He stumbled onwards, not looking behind him as he made his way up the hill. The plasma pistol had dropped from his useless left hand. He trudged on, sometimes shouldering his way past men with powerful strikes, sometimes cutting straight through them. A blade tank rolled past him in his limited peripheral vision , going to kill his men. He kept on ascending, climbing to that point in the sky. The sun hang heavy over the green hill, which was quickly turning crimson.
A shot took him through the leg this time- the right one. He fell to a knee, dropped his sword, and struggled to get up. He began limping, then stumbled, falling to the ground. As his vision focused, he saw something next to him... A banner. The banner of NanoTrasen. He reached out and clasped it with his good hand, using it as a sort of crutch to stand up. He limped onwards, feeling weaker shots from small arms fire bounce off his back. The battle had moved downhill now, and the path ahead was empty. Onwards, he limped, grunting as each step sent blood spurting from his leg. He was so close...
Before he reached the top of the hill, tracer shots began to home in on him. He felt his ribs shatter as two took him through the back, and his right leg was hit again. He screamed in to his headset, then gritted his teeth. He stumbled onwards, tracers zipping past him, and somehow, with a burst of strength, reached the top. He raised the banner above his hand, jamming the point in to the ground. Just as he planted the flag, a hollow-point tracer hit his right shoulder, blowing his arm off completely. The arm remained attached to the flag as he slumped down to his knees, and then fell on to his back. The bullets stopped coming. He screamed in s tortured fashion in to his headset.
Conrad breathed raggedly, the breath coming in short bursts. With great difficulty, he managed to lift his left hand and disengage his helmet's lock, causing it to pop off. His beard unfurled, and his balding head shined in the sum. Pushing himself with his legs, he managed to prop himself up on the banner, and face the battle. He watched, in a kind of silent awe and resignation, as his force battled to the last- each troop seemed to carry with him a grim determination to bring down as many men as he could with him. Conrad smiled weakly as blood dribbled out of the side of his mouth. He opened his mouth, saying,
"In all my years, I shall never see anything more beautiful than a battle in full swing."
He didn't know who he was talking to, or why, but he did not care- for he was dead. Dead to the pain that coursed throughout his body, dead to the battle, dead to it all. Soon, he would be dead literally rather than figuratively.
He managed to hang on until he saw his last man go down under and irrepressible tide of red and gold, firing his weapon in to the air as he was dismembered by a P.E.A.S. Conrad frowned grimly, a lump rising in his throat and a tear coursing down his cheek. As darkness began to envelop his vision, he simply thought this- perhaps , for a man of his age and caliber, there was no better way to go out. His head slumped forward, his vision went dark, and with a final spurt of blood from his wounds, he passed.
On a beautiful day , in the fields of a war-torn colony planet, Honorary Captain Conrad Ember led 200 soldiers of the NanoTrasen Power Armor forces in a hopeless attack against a fortified enemy position. Every single NT soldier was killed, including the captain- who's body was found when the hill was taken three days later. He was slumped against a NanoTrasen banner at the top of the hill, his dismembered arm still attached to it. His face had a look of tranquility. The battle came to be historically known as "Ember's Hike".
We all knew this is coming.
