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Thread: Knight's Released (Story)

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    Default Knight's Released (Story)

    2:00 News (Republic of Humanitarian Needs Capital), 5:00 Casius Time


    "News has recently come out that the god that the Knight's Order dedicated itself to was destroyed in a climactic, mysterious battle. In possible relation, a fleet of unidentified vessels dropped into normal space above the planet Casius, where the order had built its chief shrine. More on this as...."


    4:00 News (Republic of Humanitarian Needs Capital), 7:00 Casius time


    "Some fifteen minutes ago, the alien fleet over Casius was met by yet another: a Knight's Order Cleansing Fleet. It dropped into normal space already in formation, forming a defensive wall over their shrine. No comment from any shipboard personnel, nor from Knight's Order's leaders. For the full story so far, please go to..."


    Approx. 7:35 Casius Time


    "We interrupt this news broadcast for an important addition to a previous story.

    Above Casius, two fleets, a Knight's Order Cleansing Fleet and an unknown alien fleet, have opened fire on each other. From what our experts say, the aliens attempted to send several landing parties to the shrine, prompting a violent retaliation from the Knight's Order. Within just a few short minutes, it is estimated that 2000 people have been killed already. Our tactical experts suggest that, while grossly outnumbered, the aliens have the upper hand in this battle.

    Wait! Eyewitness reports are saying that the Order is sending landing parties of its own! It is possible that a few alien vessels landed as well. More as..."


    Knight's Order Dropship #733, Local Time, 7:30


    "What is our mission, sir?" This was one of the few times when Order dropships were called on for use, and this one was packed, stuffed with to the regulation limit of three dozen soldiers. This wasn't a normal occurrence.

    The Dedicate-Colonel, ground leader for this operation, shrugged. "Orders are simple, kill the aliens, destroy the shrine. If possible recover information from Shrine Security tapes."

    "Wait, destroy the main shrine of Aris?" The speaker, a Zealot-Private, twisted in his power armor, the hydraulics groaning slightly.

    "Yes. High Command sees no other options. A lot of powerful relics were kept there, and whichever ones the aliens are after, we can't let them have it. Now, we are being dropped in the main entrance and are going to the main generator. Dropship #929 is going after the secondary generator through an access-vent. Dropship #551 is landing at the Ground-to-Orbit cannon, try to destroy some alien ships and then blow the ammunition left over. Six other dropships are going to engage the alien infantry in the main hall through a back-entrance. They'll keep them occupied for as long as possible. Unfortunately, our infiltration route is going to pass through the main lobby, so keep your heads down."

    "Alright," said the same soldier, "so we know our targets. But what are our objectives? What are we doing?"

    The Dedicate-Colonel, Wilhelm Standworth, took a deep breath. "We're blowing them up."

    The dropship erupted into a cacophony of yells. It wasn't easy, destroying the last relics of their dead god. Not only that, but She had been around long enough for most of these men, Wilhelm included, to have grown up in this hall. But, if Aris was dead, was it sacrilege to destroy Her most holy of abodes? He shook his head. They had a mission to complete.

    "Now," he continued, "a lot of people are dying up there for us, so get your heads on straight and keep 'em that way."

    "What if they all get destroyed, our fleet? Its a definite possibility."

    "An exfiltration carrier is standing by to take a low-orbit jump to our position, should the need arise."

    Over the dropship intercom system, the pilot called "Settin' her down in thirty seconds. Taking fire, pretty high caliber. Keep your heads down." Rounds pinged off the heavy armor of the hull. One tore through the hull into the compartment, killing the same Zealot-Private Wilhelm had spoken to just moments before. "Setting down in five, four, three, two-" The last number was cut off by yet another rain of bullets pinging against the armor. The ship clunked onto the ground, jolting its passengers. They all stood. "Openin' hatch." The hatch slowly slid open, revealing a scene straight out of hell. Bullets zinged through the air, and before the ramp was even down, two additional men were on the ground, bloody holes in their heavy chest armor.

    The Dedicate-Colonel grimaced. High-Caliber indeed. Far to many good men were dying for this, and they hadn't even been dropped off yet. Once the ramp was down, they all rushed to the main wall, taking cover behind its protective darkness.

    "Gah, ship armor's doing nothing," the pilot yelled angrily over comms. As the dropship lifted up, another bullet flew into it, hitting an engine. Trailing smoke, the dropship limped into the sky. With a deafening crack, however, a massive hole appeared in the passenger compartment. "What the-" The pilot started before, presumably, a bullet shredded her body. The dropship lost speed quickly, dropping, crashing and exploding about a quarter mile off.

    "Sweet mother of mercy," a soldier muttered the age-old Heart Prayer beginning.

    Their dropship's destruction more or less signed their death warrants, one and all. And all of them knew it.

    "Why are we waiting here," one soldier muttered. He grabbed a grenade from his bandoleer, tossing it into the entrance of the shrine room.

    The grenade exploded, releasing both toxic gas and shrapnel. They moved into the room, helmets filtering out the toxic gas. No blood, no bodies, not even a footprint in the ground, despite the thousands of bullets poured into the room. How had the aliens gotten so many killed without a single casualty on their side? How?

    "Screw it all," one soldier shouted, kicking the large sentinel-statue of Aris in the center of the room. Due to his power suit, his kick managed to demolish half of the statue.

    The Dedicate-Colonel knelt down on one leg, looking at the statue. He looked into the carven face of Aris, remembering the daemon who had killed her. Like that monster, these aliens would face the consequences of crossing the Knight's Order.

    "We have a mission. Even if it is our last act, let it be a damn good one. Move out." He said the last with such an air of authority that the soldiers looked at him with a glimmer of hope, standing just a little straighter. The stepped onto the elevator platform that would take them deep into the bowels of Casius. As Dedicate-Colonel Wilhelm Standworth keyed in the required phrase into the controls, the elevator platform started its long, slow decent.


    Knight's Order Planet, Zaranum, Casius Time, 7:40


    "What do you think of this, Wanderer? You always seem to understand these things."

    The man in the corner of the room looked at him, saying slowly, "I think that you have a public relations problem on your hands of massive proportions. Your men will probably all die. They will undoubtedly complete their mission, but the will die nonetheless. With some 20000 soldiers, crewmen included, dead, you can't hope to pass it all off. At best you'll be replaced, at worst there will be open rebellion amongst the Order itself."

    Prelate-Lord Arcanis leaned back in his large armchair, looking at his tactical adviser sullenly. "What is the situation?"

    "The entire Cleansing-Fleet is gone, floating spacedust. Two dropships were destroyed, but all soldiers got off of them first. Otherwise... the Wanderer is right."

    He cursed lightly, angry at his underlings' failures. Wanderer, the man standing in the corner, spoke quietly. "Despite their losses, the most important sliver of Fate has successfully inflitrated the facility. They will reach the Main Generator, and they will successfully destroy it. Afterwords... afterwords it is anyone's guess. Well, to a certain extent." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Even Vareskal is in position, the next most important piece of this puzzle."

    "Who in all the hells is Vareskal, Wanderer?"

    "You'll see, I think."
    Last edited by Kailrik; 10-24-2010 at 09:39 PM.
    I have heard flaming shots are fun. Anyone want to try?

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    Casius Shrine Main Hall, upper floor, Local Time, 7:55


    The platform slowly rolled to a halt, the dull think of metal-on-metal masked by the sudden sounds of gunfire, evidence of a massive firefight. The upper floor of the room was more of a small walkway, a metal guard keeping any careless person from falling down. Vaguely cylindrical, though the normally flat edges of a cylinder were rounded.

    "Positions! Get against that guard," Wilhem yelled over the comms. From his new vantage point as he knelt behind the wall, he could view the whole battle. There were dozens of dead human fighters on the lower floor, strewn out in a bloody mess, holes in their suits highlighted in their own crimson blood. Curiously, a few had slice-marks with singed edges on them instead of the bullet-wounds. Wilhelm filed that away for later, mentally.

    "This is Dedicate-Colonel Wilhelm Standworth. Who is in command here? I want to know the situation," he said on the Command Frequency.

    On the same frequency, some said, "This is Dedicate-Officer Yarrof Dymitriko! Lost a lot of men. The lower floor is completely lost, forced us to retreat. Ammo is low. Every time I see a glimpse of one of them, they move before I can hit them. Same goes for everyone. Doesn't stop them from dropping my men, though. Also, as we retreated to the upper floor, you might notice a few slashed-up corpses down there. They have some kind of powersword. Might be useful to acquire a sample."

    "Can you keep them hiding for a few minutes more? My squad needs to go through the center of this room."

    "Is this a joke," the man asked, dead serious.

    "Negative."

    "Sir, even if we didn't have to help you guys through, we can't hold 'em much more than twenty minutes more, less if they make any kind of attack on us up here. Much less. However, if you are going down there, then you can grab the three men I have stuck down there."

    "Look, I'm tired of games. You are all here to keep this place clear and to keep the aliens occupied. No matter what happens here, you are required to help us get across the lower floor."

    There was a pause. Now that Wilhelm really thought about it, even with friendly bullets pinging on every open square inch the entire room, he would be hard-pressed to get his men through the room alive. And if he lost his entire squad... he could say goodbye to his career with the Knight's Order.

    "Alright, sir," the Dedicate-Officer said, cutting off Wilhelm's thoughts. "We'll lay down covering fire, and you can just take my three men from the lower floor. They'll probably be safer with you than they are now."

    "Alright." Switching to the open-squad frequency, Wilhelm said, "This is Dedicate-Colonel Standworth. My men, regroup at the main stairwell."

    Halfway down the stairway, it turned an about-face to point towards the opposite end of the hall. Moving carefully down these steps, motioning for the others to wait, he looked carefully over the entire room, right up to their target location. For every step down they would be completely open to the enemy and on top of that, past a small reception desk at the base of the stairs, there was very little cover near the stairwell. The closest additional cover was about twenty feet away, a small pillar, hardly able to cover one man, let alone a half dozen, meaning that their only chance was to run straight across. Losses would be increased by a few, but it would be almost certainly better than trying to hide far too many men behind too little cover. Thirty soldiers remained, which meant that, with enough care, a decent number of men would make it through this.

    "Yarrof," he said over the command frequency, "where are your three refugees holed up?"

    "Roughly fifty feet away from your position. All together behind the upturned table on the right side of the room."

    "Alright, I see them." Switching to squad frequency, he said, "this is Dedicate-Colonel Standworth. You three on the bottom floor of the Main Hall. My squad is going to come through your position, and you're coming with us. Do you understand?"

    Three "Yessir"s sounded out.

    "Good. Get ready. Everyone, we're running straight through, but keep to what cover you can. May not stop the bullets, but it'll hide you from their view." Once more switching back to command frequency, he said "Yarrof, on my mark, have your men lay down suppressive fire."

    "Understood."

    Wilhelm gave them thirty seconds before saying, "Alright, MARK!"




    This is my first draft, a story I dreamt of last night and wrote down during the day. I'll update as I write. I hope to have it finished by tomorrow.

    EDIT: BTW, the grammar issues in the title of the page are purposeful.
    Last edited by Kailrik; 10-26-2010 at 12:37 AM.
    I have heard flaming shots are fun. Anyone want to try?

  3. #3

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    Is there any background information?Like a setting,characters,date, or anything?

    It sounds interesting im just a bit confused.
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    Its a rather short story.
    The only real power comes out of a long rifle. - Joseph Stalin

    A Kentucky Long Rifle

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    Information is revealed as the story continues. It is set in a far-future in which humanity has met only a few races. It set itself as the dominant race and enforced a highly racist government (Empire, Starwars, anyone?). The Knight's Order, an order dedicated to a god that revealed Herself as true (along with several others, though that is nothing important for this story). The Knight's Order itself is a powerful group of many, many humans. Some are scholars, and some joined the massive military force (think Knights Templar).

    Otherwise, because it is a dream, I haven't had time to come up with anything else. No character backstory, yet, though I have written beyond the point I posted.

    Humility, it will be a short story, but it isn't done yet.
    I have heard flaming shots are fun. Anyone want to try?

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    Quote Originally Posted by Kailrik View Post
    Information is revealed as the story continues. It is set in a far-future in which humanity has met only a few races. It set itself as the dominant race and enforced a highly racist government (Empire, Starwars, anyone?). The Knight's Order, an order dedicated to a god that revealed Herself as true (along with several others, though that is nothing important for this story). The Knight's Order itself is a powerful group of many, many humans. Some are scholars, and some joined the massive military force (think Knights Templar).

    Otherwise, because it is a dream, I haven't had time to come up with anything else. No character backstory, yet, though I have written beyond the point I posted.

    Humility, it will be a short story, but it isn't done yet.
    Looks good.
    Lookin forwrd to readin the next addition ;D
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    Oh, I'll be back when it is done.
    The only real power comes out of a long rifle. - Joseph Stalin

    A Kentucky Long Rifle

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    i like dream stories i still have my log somewhere of when i was writing my dreams down.

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    Updated. Also, I have finished the main story on paper, just have to write the conclusion. I'll be updating it as often as I can.
    I have heard flaming shots are fun. Anyone want to try?

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    good good.

    (giggle) i love that pict

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