Untitled (SF-erig)

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Untitled (SF-erig)

Bericht door MrFloyd » 23-08-06 10:31

het volgende is een begin van een verhaal dat ik toevallig zojuist terugvond; er is géén verdere tekst en die gaat er ook niet komen, maar vond hem geinig genoeg om te delen


'Remind me again how we got here Jonas, I seem to have blacked out for a few minutes.'

Trooper Jonas Herlam rubbed the bruise on his side as he looked over at his companion. Both him and his fellow soldier Derc Bartes looked like they got stuck in a very small box along with a very angry pitbull. And as far as pitbulls went, that wasn't a very good place to be.

A cool breeze coming in from across the plains soothed his aching head as he gave Derc a whimsical smile.

'Thanks to the brilliant flight plan that headquarters laid out for our duly apt pilot we had a rather close encounter with that rocky outcrop over there,' he replied as he pointed at a collection of jagged rocks that jutted out of the barren landscape, the tail of the aircraft still hanging off of one of the points. He winched from the pain the movement caused in his joints.

'He did a fine job putting the aircraft down over there,' he continued with a sarcastic sneer as he made hopping gestures with his index finger, 'and over there and there and finally over there.'

Jonas pointed at the still burning wreckage of their transport. There were bits and pieces of it all over the place. A most peculiar hunk of scrap metal caught the men's attention. A bent muzzle of a cannon and a few scattered pieces of tank tracks suggested it might have been a combat vehicle before the crash.

'I believe that used to be the platoon's APC,' Derc said as he started to giggle, his brain unable to cope with the scale of things due to the accident.

'Yes,' said Jonas as he wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, 'that idiotic bastard managed to kill thirty men, one of them himself, and destroy three APCs and a transport carrier with one display of complete incapability when it comes to aerial manoeuvres. I'm almost tempted to say well done.'

The two men took their time getting up, thanking the gods that they didn't fracture any bones during their rough decent to the planet. All around them were endless stretches of waist-high grass and, apparently unknown to headquarters, the occasional rock formation.

'So, what are we supposed to do now?' said Jonas as he looked over at Derc.

Derc looked around as a breeze made his long black hair dance, making him look like some sort of windswept hero stuck on a deserted island. He took the flask hanging from his belt, unscrewed the lid and held it to his lips to drink. Cursing quietly he flipped the flask around to find that something punched a hole big enough to fit his finger through during the crash.

'Bloody mixed blessings,' he said to Jonas, 'my flask probably saved my life only to let me die of thirst in a couple of days, brilliant.'

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