Hera
Foxtrot_Uniform
Join Date: 2003-06-12 Member: 17328Members
Join Date: 2003-06-12 Member: 17328Members
<div class="IPBDescription">4 men.. 1 destiny?</div> “SEAL THE DOOR!” a Marine shouted from the landing pad.
The large steel-reinforced door began to lower. The Marine who had activated the control looked on in horror as soldiers were torn apart by the swarming Kharaa.
Finally the door locked, and four marines of the original thirty-man landing party remained. Nicholas Parambo stared blankly at the enormous metal door that had just descended into place.
The four Marines listened in silence as the last of the LMG’s stopped firing from within. It sounded as though all had died.
“What now?” Thomas Hudak asked, standing out on the oval-shaped landing pad.
The structure that the four Marines stood on was suspended above a large canyon, one of many that traced their paths along the surface of Mars. The structure was constructed mostly of concrete, a short pathway, about 10 meters wide, led from the sealed entrance out to a oval shaped landing pad, which was about 15 meters in diameter.
The Hera Complex was huge, surrounded by red, rocky cliff faces. About 40 meters from the landing pad, was a glass walkway that allowed the Hera crew a view of the surface of Mars. It was inaccessible by the Marines now.
“What’s in the crates?” asked Jon Chapman, pacing away from the door and towards the landing pad where two large, unlabeled crates lay.
“I don’t know,” Tom responded. He leaned against them, staring up into the Martian sky. A faint rumble of thunder was cause for the Marines to exchange quick glances. “We could be in trouble if we’re hit by a windstorm.”
“No kidding,” responded Garret Mette, seated in the center of the landing area.
Jon set his LMG on top of the crate that Tom wasn’t leaning against, and then took out his knife. He began to work it open. “Maybe these crates have something useful. They’re pretty heavy.”
Nick remained by the large metal door. He was listening to the grunting of the Kharaa just on the other side. He could hear them constructing sentry towers to defend their new territory.
A few of the four legged species had run around to the glass walkway and were now pacing back and forth, regarding the distant Marines angrily, running their tongues along their teeth in anticipation.
“You think that glass is thick enough to hold those things?” Garret asked, watching the distant Kharaa.
“Let’s hope so.”
The side panel of the crate dropped open and MRE’s (Meal Ready to Eat) spilled out. “Hey, we’ve got some food. There’s some water in here too.” Unfortunately, their suits and Mars’s lack of oxygen would prevent them from consuming the packaged meals.
“Great,” Tom chuckled, “Maybe we can use them as Kharaa bait.”
Hours passed. All four Marines were leaning against the crates, watching the Kharaa walk in circles like zoo animals. Occasionally, they’d try and bite the flat glass surface, comically twisting their heads, lips peeling back from their teeth, trying to tunnel their way through the surface. Their attempts were always unsuccessful.
“What were you guys going to do when you got home?” Garret asked, staring blankly at the Complex.
Nobody answered for a while. Home seemed a luxury now unattainable.
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To be continued if this sounds like a good story. Thanks for reading.
The large steel-reinforced door began to lower. The Marine who had activated the control looked on in horror as soldiers were torn apart by the swarming Kharaa.
Finally the door locked, and four marines of the original thirty-man landing party remained. Nicholas Parambo stared blankly at the enormous metal door that had just descended into place.
The four Marines listened in silence as the last of the LMG’s stopped firing from within. It sounded as though all had died.
“What now?” Thomas Hudak asked, standing out on the oval-shaped landing pad.
The structure that the four Marines stood on was suspended above a large canyon, one of many that traced their paths along the surface of Mars. The structure was constructed mostly of concrete, a short pathway, about 10 meters wide, led from the sealed entrance out to a oval shaped landing pad, which was about 15 meters in diameter.
The Hera Complex was huge, surrounded by red, rocky cliff faces. About 40 meters from the landing pad, was a glass walkway that allowed the Hera crew a view of the surface of Mars. It was inaccessible by the Marines now.
“What’s in the crates?” asked Jon Chapman, pacing away from the door and towards the landing pad where two large, unlabeled crates lay.
“I don’t know,” Tom responded. He leaned against them, staring up into the Martian sky. A faint rumble of thunder was cause for the Marines to exchange quick glances. “We could be in trouble if we’re hit by a windstorm.”
“No kidding,” responded Garret Mette, seated in the center of the landing area.
Jon set his LMG on top of the crate that Tom wasn’t leaning against, and then took out his knife. He began to work it open. “Maybe these crates have something useful. They’re pretty heavy.”
Nick remained by the large metal door. He was listening to the grunting of the Kharaa just on the other side. He could hear them constructing sentry towers to defend their new territory.
A few of the four legged species had run around to the glass walkway and were now pacing back and forth, regarding the distant Marines angrily, running their tongues along their teeth in anticipation.
“You think that glass is thick enough to hold those things?” Garret asked, watching the distant Kharaa.
“Let’s hope so.”
The side panel of the crate dropped open and MRE’s (Meal Ready to Eat) spilled out. “Hey, we’ve got some food. There’s some water in here too.” Unfortunately, their suits and Mars’s lack of oxygen would prevent them from consuming the packaged meals.
“Great,” Tom chuckled, “Maybe we can use them as Kharaa bait.”
Hours passed. All four Marines were leaning against the crates, watching the Kharaa walk in circles like zoo animals. Occasionally, they’d try and bite the flat glass surface, comically twisting their heads, lips peeling back from their teeth, trying to tunnel their way through the surface. Their attempts were always unsuccessful.
“What were you guys going to do when you got home?” Garret asked, staring blankly at the Complex.
Nobody answered for a while. Home seemed a luxury now unattainable.
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To be continued if this sounds like a good story. Thanks for reading.
Comments
I'm never too big of a fan of 'game events', but so far it's good... we'll have to see.
1) Don't make assumptions on what we 'know'. When you said they were outside, I pictured... just like in Hera, the marines standing outside. Then you mentioned big bubbly envornoment suits. That should've been made clearer initially.
2) Suspension of Disbelief: How did the marines get in the big bulky suits? Would they really have locked their buddies in there to die? (I know the last part could be true, but they're just things you need to consider, to avoid abstract situations in the future)
3) Hera is on mars? I thought this was in some distant armpit of the galaxy.
I couldn't really explain how the Marines can breath. On the model, their helmet is open, but if they're on some other planet, they wouldn't be able to breathe. so i just said that they couldn't eat the food w/o suffocating. I didn't mention any bubbly suits, though..
“Well, what were you guys going to do?” repeated Garret.
Tom turned his head and said, “Just shut up, ok?” and the other Marines grunted in agreement.
For a while, they simply turned their attention to the Kharaa, seeming almost comical now. Now that the Marines were safe from them.
Some static crackled on the intercoms inside of their helmets. They ignored the sound at first, but then it persisted.
“Does anybody hear that?” asked Jon, tapping his helmet.
“Yeah,” Tom answered. “It’s probably from the windstorm.”
Through the heavy static, a man’s voice emerged saying, “Please respond. Any survivors in the Hera Complex, please respond.”
All four Marines started yelling into their radios “We’re here!” “We need help!”
There was no answer for a full five minutes. They muttered curses to themselves.
“Could they hear us?” Garret asked.
“I don’t know.”
The voice returned again, much to the relief of the four stranded soldiers. “We’re going to perform a sweep of the Complex. If you can hear this message, do this. Try to reach the Hera Reception Area. That is where
we are entering the station. Please respond.”
They shouted again, but it seemed that their cries were unheard. All they could do was hope that the rescue team made it far enough to discover them stranded outside.
They stood now, near the edge of the circular landing platform, staring towards the glass tunnel. The Kharaa remained there, staring back for a moment, but then, their heads turned. They turned towards the reception area.
An hour passed without any sign of the rescue squad. The shortest path to the original team’s insertion would have led the rescue squad straight through the glass tunnel. The four survivors feared for the worst.
“I think they’re all dead,” said Nick, sitting back down by the crates. They’d been standing at the edge of the platform for the entire hour, waiting impatiently to see humans coming to their rescue. “We’re never going to make it out of here.”
Tom sighed, collapsing back against a crate. “They wont leave anyone behind will they? I mean, they can’t abandon this entire station. It’s too expensive.”
Nobody said anything. They simply sat with their attention still locked on the walkway. Sometimes, they’d think they saw someone, but then blink their eyes and the illusion was chased away.
Tom leaned his head back, allowing his eyes to drift shut, thinking about the events that had led up to now. They’d teleported in from a dropship, the only sure way to keep Kharaa presence from leaving the station, and the commander began to work, setting up a base as quickly as possible. Working together, men activated the structures they needed while others trained their guns on entrances into the loading bay.
Tom was near the entrance from the landing pad, eyes scanning the room for hostiles, when the fist Kharaa came in, seemingly by accident, and then leaped towards a soldier.
Bullets flew through its body, tearing the dog-like creature to ribbons in mid air. Someone congratulated themselves on their marksmanship. For a second, everything was quiet, and everyone exchanged cautious glances, and then, hell broke loose.
Kharaa poured from the ceiling and every doorway, charging through a hail of bullets. Marines went down under several aliens, piling on top of them, pulling them apart with teeth and claws. Screams, gunfire, and the horrible sound of claws scraping metal filled the once dormant Hera Station.
One of the creatures leapt from the ceiling, dropping onto the floor in front of Tom. He fired wildly, bullets ripping into the creature, and backed out onto the landing pad. Three others did the same.
“Does anyone see that? Is that a person?”
Tom blinked away the memory, focusing on the walkway. It was a human. He was trudging around the corner, covered head to toe in heavy battle armor. Plates of green metal shined in the light that lit the walkway. He was holding a heavy machinegun.
“Over here!” everyone shouted again, jumping up and down, firing weapons into the sky.
The man inside the walkway turned and looked at the four distant men, jumping up and down. He stared for a second, then waved. He remained there for a moment, probably saying something into his radio. Then the man in armor spun suddenly, and on the landing pad, they could hear the muffled sound of the machine gun shooting. A stream of Kharaa flooded toward him. He held his ground, firing into the mass of aliens. They swarmed him quickly, crawling onto his armor, biting with impossibly strong jaws. The man twisted, trying to fling them from his suit, firing the machinegun at the same time.
“Oh God,” one of them whispered.
One of the Kharaa leapt from the floor, slamming itself into the Marine’s upper body and threw him off balance. He fell hard, landing on his back, but he continued to struggle, kicking his legs and flailing his arms.
Garret turned away, holding in the strong urge to regurgitate.
The Marine got back up, despite the multitude of alien aggressors and started dragging himself through the tunnel. The Kharaa scratched and clawed, working their way beneath the thick armor. The soldier disappeared around the corner, and the survivors looked at each other.
“Do you think he’ll make it?”
Nobody answered. They didn’t have to wait long to discover the answer.
<!--QuoteBegin--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>QUOTE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='QUOTE'><!--QuoteEBegin-->The man inside the walkway turned and looked at us. He stared for a second, then waved.<!--QuoteEnd--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--QuoteEEnd-->
The story isn't told in first person, so you shouldn't use first peron.
Otherwise, it's pretty good.
Also, I got a little confused. Is Tom still daydreaming or did they run into the rescue team?
For anyone who's interested, the planet's name is actually Hera (Mother of Ares, who was known as Mars to the Romans). The atmosphere was intended to be breathable, most likely due to terraforming. The most dangerous natural trait is the electrical storms which rage the surface, and provide power to all the stations via huge fields of electrical harnesses situated all over the planet. The station ns_hera is based on is intended to be one of many, and somewhere on the planet is also a colony for workers and their families. Access to station 16-B via the rail network (which connects to the reception area via the door in the ground) was denied as soon as the alien threat was recognised. It was one of the first encounters with the Kharra, before much was known about them.
I did mean to include all this information in a txt file (written in the form of a mission briefing to the commander) with the release of NS, but I never got around to touching it up.
By the way, the landing pad isn't oval, its circular : ) It's interesting that you should say that though, because it <i>used</i> to be oval...
Anyhow, keep up the good work.
Ok, well first things first, i didn't switch the point of view in the story, i just accidently wrote 'us'. I changed it.
Tom is day dreaming. He's thinking about the events leading up to their current situation. The man in armor is the first they've seen of the rescue squad. When someone says : "does anyone see that", Tom snaps out of it.
I'm sorry if it's written poorly.
Also, the inconsistancies to the NS storyline for this map.. I dunno, i just wrote this on impulse. I dont really know that much about the back story.. i hope you are at least entertained...
I think you've done a good job, and I found it an entertaining read so far. Being a good writer isn't about good writing skills, its about imagination and imagry, and being able to relate to the situations. Take Jeff, NS's personal writer. He's admitted (not the right word but it'll do) that he's not a great writer when it comes to form, spelling, grammer, etc, but none of that matters simply because his stories are so vibrant and imaginative.
You don't have to be good to be <i>good</i>, y'know?
Good, god, Merk, where the hell did you come from? <!--emo&:)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/smile.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='smile.gif'><!--endemo-->
Nice to see you, btw.
[EDIT]Ya, sorry for posting off topic. You can all pistol whip me if you like[/EDIT]