"Yes, that's right.. They looked like children, one was a.. No I
haven't been.. Of course not.. I'm telling you, they were human, or looked
human... No I am not delusional!"
The Lieutenant was "on the horn" with HQ, as the rest of the squad just stood around, stupefied by what had happened half an hour ago and discussing what the hell it was they had see.
"Maybe it was all an optical illusion," spoke Joe 'Ox' Punchinello, a big brute of a man. "Just like, ummm.."
"Yeah, it was just swamp gas that was hit by moonlight at a funny angle," retorted Jim Alden in a sarcastic manor.
"Well, it sure as hell was real, I can tell ya that," spoke up Williams, as everyone else went silent. "We all saw it, and we definitely heard it." There were several nods to that, as a few troopers still had ringing in their ears.
"Well, screw you too, asshole!" The Lieutenant was pissed at the operator on the other end, and slammed the radio phone to the ground as he walked back towards the group. "I want everyone back to your positions now! Sergeant, pick two men and head into that woods. See if you can find the little 'illusions' and report back."
"Yes, sir; Williams, Alden, you're coming with me. The rest of ya heard what the lieutenant said, now move it!" Sarge started marching into the woods, as Williams and Alden followed close behind. They disappeared in the thick underbrush, watched by the remaining platoon members.
As they barreled through the forest, the items around them began to become stranger and stranger. Not only were the leaves purple colored, but the trunks were more green then brown. The "canopy" was only about two or three feet above their heads, which let in a good amount of light, and the whole wooded area seemed infested by tiny, green-furred creatures, which hopped among the trees and atop the marines' heads.
"Hehe, looks like you made a friend there Jim," said Mark as one of the animals sat atop his helmet. The little creature looked over the front of the helmet and both meet eye to eye. Jim gave a grunt, and brushed the nuisance off his head, continuing on. The little monkey-like beast clung to a branch, screeching at Jim. Thankfully, it was not as bad as the earlier creature's shriek.
Sarge raised his hand, signaling Jim and Mark to stop. He had come across a small path, which bent into two different directions where he stood. He thought of which way to go, as he switched his rifle to his left hand, and leaned against a tree with his right. The trunk looked strong enough to support him, but as he applied full pressure, the tree broke in two near the bottom, as both foliage and marine fell with a crash.
Neither Jim nor Mark could hold back their laughter, as even Sarge chuckled as he got himself back up. "Guess I don't know my own strength," he said, a grin in the corner in his mouth.
"Must be the low gravity; just enough for things to grow, but not as strong as regular gravity," assumed Mark, as the laughter died down, and everything was back to business.
"This way," declared Sarge, as he took the path to the right, and the two privates followed in suit. The path cut about two feet into the forest, and big, purplish leaves hung over into the troopers' faces. They marched on until they came to the end of the path, as it opened up onto another stretch of rolling plains like the one they had left.
"I don't see anything," said Jim, as the trio scanned their surroundings. "Nothing but this damn endless grassland and that damn jungle we just left."
"Lieutenant, we've reached the other side of the forest," spoke Sarge over the platoon intercom. "No sighting of the creatures seen earlier or anything of the sort."
"Alright Sergeant," the crackle of the Lieutenant's voice was heard over the radio. "The C&C has begun its final landing procedures, report back on the double." Sarge and Jim were making their way back into the woods when Mark motioned for them to stop.
"Hey Sarge, come take a look at this," he said, pointing out into the endless fields of tall grass. "Out beyond that far rise, tell me if you see what I see." Sarge stood besides the private, and adjusted the magnification on his visor. Just right where Mark had pointed, Sarge could see an outcropping of buildings; most seemed small and made out of sod, except for a large, greenish wall, which looked as if to be made of logs and hid from view what it protected on the inside.
"Well, I'll be damned," uttered Sarge, getting back on the intercom. "Sir, it appears we've found what could be a, err, village-"
"What the hell you mean 'could be a village', Sergeant? I want you to recon the area, and make damn sure you're positive of what you see." The Lieutenant sounded annoyed, as he usually was all the time, either at his own men, or the "armchair generals" above him.
"Well, you heard him. Guess we better get a closer look," said Sarge, who had been on the receiving end of the Lt's wrath more then once and showed it. "Williams, you take point."
The group of marines continued on towards the apparent gathering of buildings, going about in a more casual manor. The grass here seemed to be cut, which only came about knee-high in their combat suits. They also started coming across beaten paths in the grass, made by hundreds of feet over many years down to the dirt, which despite everything else, looked normal to the men. In the West the sun was setting, but in the East another was rising, this one not as bright as the first though. A flock of exotic birds flew overhead, calling out in high voices as if to warn all others of aliens on their planet.
So nonchalantly had the marines been walking, that they were taken back in surprise when they came over the next rise to find the little hamlet right in front of them. Oblivious to the three strangers viewing them, the denizens of the cozy town went about with their lives. All were wearing dull, brown clothing, though in some there was a variation of the design between the two sexes. The "adults" were taller and slightly larger then the children, but still seemed a foot or two short of the humans, and all had the same purple markings as the two before. The scene would have been reminiscent of a Medieval European village, if not for the trio of metallic figures standing above.
"Umm, you think we should get out of sight?" Jim posed the question just seconds before a scream rang out from the village. The marines were not sure who rang out the siren call, but they were sure that all eyes from below were fixated on them, and soon enough panic ran amok within the once- sleepy village.
"Now look what you did," responded Mark, as chaos was abound just below their feet. Babies were crying, couples were holding on to each other, families were busy packing their things.
"Look what I did? I didn't do anything!" Jim did like to cause trouble once in awhile, but to be blamed for something he didn't do.
"Yeah, I'm sure if you hadn't said something, they wouldn't have noticed," was Mark's retort. "You're always doing stuff like that. Remember the pub on Tarsonis?"
"Hey now, that wasn't my fault, those damn Fleet guys are way too cocky for their own good." Mark and Jim were in a staring contest, whilst the action down below intensified as the people began fleeing en mass from the buildings.
"Gentlemen," spoke up Sarge, parting the two parties. "If you haven't noticed, we have more important-" Before Sarge could finish his, a raving native, spouting some inane babble, had climbed up the little knoll and with a exotic dagger, leaped into the air and stabbed down into Sarge's chest.
Sarge just looked down, seeing the hilt of the dagger was meeting his chest plate, yet the actual blade, in more pieces then one, was lying on the grass by his feet. His Combat Suit's armor was too strong for the poor creature's knife, and more annoyed then afraid, gave the thing the back of his right hand, sending it flying off the hill and landing with a thud. It stopped moving after that, and a few of its limbs seemed bent out of place.
"Like I said earlier," as Sarge began moving down the hill, followed by two shocked privates. "We have better things to do then sit around here arguing." The platoon intercom crackled as Sarge reported in to the Lieutenant. "Sir, we have confirmation that what we found is, or was, a village of some sorts."
"Was? Explain, Sergeant," was the Lieutenant's next command. Something could be heard from his end, probably the engines of an incoming Command Center setting down in her new home.
"Well, it seems we scared away the local inhabitants, though a few are pretty hell-bent on killing us," reported Sarge, as another screaming alien, with an almost exact copy of the earlier knife, can running at Sarge. The cool, calm NCO lifted his Gauss rifle up and fired off a single 8mm metal "spike" at the angry resident. The very shell knocked him off his feet onto his back a foot from where he was shot, a gaping hole left dead center in his chest.
"Alright, recon the rest of this 'village' and report back on the double," was the Lieutenant's last order, as the radio chatter died with a suddenness like the poor native who had just eaten some lead.
"Mark, you check the inside of those walls, Jim, cover that half of the village, and I'll check this one," barked Sarge, the three soldiers splitting up to their own objectives.
Williams strolled up to the log wall and examined it for any kind of opening. Frustrated with several minutes of searching on his side, he thought "Aw, screw this." Lifting his rifle up and, cocking the underslung grenade launcher, he let fly a high explosive shell. The resulting hole was good enough size for him to walk though, but the overhead, having lost its support, collapsed and left a wide open tear in the wood wall, not to mention starting a few small fires.
Walking in, Mark theorized the walled-in place had been some kind of holding area, perhaps for some cargo or animals, or perhaps something sinister. For now, though, it was completely empty, save for a stone pedestal in the center, and one of the creatures hiding under it. It looked to be male, plain brown clothes, but fear was in his eyes, almost like it was consuming his sole.
As Mark started walking closer to it, he backed up against the wall as quickly as he could, as if trying to claw his way out. Apparently, there was an opening to the enclosed area, spying a crack on the opposite wall revealing a door, but Mark wasn't interested in that right now. Walking up to the pedestal, he looked curiously at the man, though his expression was hidden behind his visor. He was no different then the others, same dull clothing, short with purple markings, red hair and a passion to go with it. As Mark took a few more steps towards him, the man lifted a dagger into the air, shouting more gibberish with a mix of furor and trepidation in his voice.
Mark stepped closer, reaching his hand out as a gesture of friendship. "Maybe I can get through to this one," he thought, standing there with hand outstretched. To his horror, the man raised his knife high and, uttering some final words, stabbed himself in the chest, kneeling over on his side. As he was in his death throws, an idol he had been carrying fell out of his cold hands, rolling towards Mark before stopping at his feet.
Williams picked up the small stone doll, examining it and the dead figure before him. Each looked the same, but the little statue seemed more grandiose, in one hand holding a Partizan-like weapon, the other making some weird hand sign, and rays of light coming from behind his armor-clad body. Walking back over to the pedestal, he placed the figure back on top of it, and walked back out of the hole in the wall.
The Lieutenant was "on the horn" with HQ, as the rest of the squad just stood around, stupefied by what had happened half an hour ago and discussing what the hell it was they had see.
"Maybe it was all an optical illusion," spoke Joe 'Ox' Punchinello, a big brute of a man. "Just like, ummm.."
"Yeah, it was just swamp gas that was hit by moonlight at a funny angle," retorted Jim Alden in a sarcastic manor.
"Well, it sure as hell was real, I can tell ya that," spoke up Williams, as everyone else went silent. "We all saw it, and we definitely heard it." There were several nods to that, as a few troopers still had ringing in their ears.
"Well, screw you too, asshole!" The Lieutenant was pissed at the operator on the other end, and slammed the radio phone to the ground as he walked back towards the group. "I want everyone back to your positions now! Sergeant, pick two men and head into that woods. See if you can find the little 'illusions' and report back."
"Yes, sir; Williams, Alden, you're coming with me. The rest of ya heard what the lieutenant said, now move it!" Sarge started marching into the woods, as Williams and Alden followed close behind. They disappeared in the thick underbrush, watched by the remaining platoon members.
As they barreled through the forest, the items around them began to become stranger and stranger. Not only were the leaves purple colored, but the trunks were more green then brown. The "canopy" was only about two or three feet above their heads, which let in a good amount of light, and the whole wooded area seemed infested by tiny, green-furred creatures, which hopped among the trees and atop the marines' heads.
"Hehe, looks like you made a friend there Jim," said Mark as one of the animals sat atop his helmet. The little creature looked over the front of the helmet and both meet eye to eye. Jim gave a grunt, and brushed the nuisance off his head, continuing on. The little monkey-like beast clung to a branch, screeching at Jim. Thankfully, it was not as bad as the earlier creature's shriek.
Sarge raised his hand, signaling Jim and Mark to stop. He had come across a small path, which bent into two different directions where he stood. He thought of which way to go, as he switched his rifle to his left hand, and leaned against a tree with his right. The trunk looked strong enough to support him, but as he applied full pressure, the tree broke in two near the bottom, as both foliage and marine fell with a crash.
Neither Jim nor Mark could hold back their laughter, as even Sarge chuckled as he got himself back up. "Guess I don't know my own strength," he said, a grin in the corner in his mouth.
"Must be the low gravity; just enough for things to grow, but not as strong as regular gravity," assumed Mark, as the laughter died down, and everything was back to business.
"This way," declared Sarge, as he took the path to the right, and the two privates followed in suit. The path cut about two feet into the forest, and big, purplish leaves hung over into the troopers' faces. They marched on until they came to the end of the path, as it opened up onto another stretch of rolling plains like the one they had left.
"I don't see anything," said Jim, as the trio scanned their surroundings. "Nothing but this damn endless grassland and that damn jungle we just left."
"Lieutenant, we've reached the other side of the forest," spoke Sarge over the platoon intercom. "No sighting of the creatures seen earlier or anything of the sort."
"Alright Sergeant," the crackle of the Lieutenant's voice was heard over the radio. "The C&C has begun its final landing procedures, report back on the double." Sarge and Jim were making their way back into the woods when Mark motioned for them to stop.
"Hey Sarge, come take a look at this," he said, pointing out into the endless fields of tall grass. "Out beyond that far rise, tell me if you see what I see." Sarge stood besides the private, and adjusted the magnification on his visor. Just right where Mark had pointed, Sarge could see an outcropping of buildings; most seemed small and made out of sod, except for a large, greenish wall, which looked as if to be made of logs and hid from view what it protected on the inside.
"Well, I'll be damned," uttered Sarge, getting back on the intercom. "Sir, it appears we've found what could be a, err, village-"
"What the hell you mean 'could be a village', Sergeant? I want you to recon the area, and make damn sure you're positive of what you see." The Lieutenant sounded annoyed, as he usually was all the time, either at his own men, or the "armchair generals" above him.
"Well, you heard him. Guess we better get a closer look," said Sarge, who had been on the receiving end of the Lt's wrath more then once and showed it. "Williams, you take point."
The group of marines continued on towards the apparent gathering of buildings, going about in a more casual manor. The grass here seemed to be cut, which only came about knee-high in their combat suits. They also started coming across beaten paths in the grass, made by hundreds of feet over many years down to the dirt, which despite everything else, looked normal to the men. In the West the sun was setting, but in the East another was rising, this one not as bright as the first though. A flock of exotic birds flew overhead, calling out in high voices as if to warn all others of aliens on their planet.
So nonchalantly had the marines been walking, that they were taken back in surprise when they came over the next rise to find the little hamlet right in front of them. Oblivious to the three strangers viewing them, the denizens of the cozy town went about with their lives. All were wearing dull, brown clothing, though in some there was a variation of the design between the two sexes. The "adults" were taller and slightly larger then the children, but still seemed a foot or two short of the humans, and all had the same purple markings as the two before. The scene would have been reminiscent of a Medieval European village, if not for the trio of metallic figures standing above.
"Umm, you think we should get out of sight?" Jim posed the question just seconds before a scream rang out from the village. The marines were not sure who rang out the siren call, but they were sure that all eyes from below were fixated on them, and soon enough panic ran amok within the once- sleepy village.
"Now look what you did," responded Mark, as chaos was abound just below their feet. Babies were crying, couples were holding on to each other, families were busy packing their things.
"Look what I did? I didn't do anything!" Jim did like to cause trouble once in awhile, but to be blamed for something he didn't do.
"Yeah, I'm sure if you hadn't said something, they wouldn't have noticed," was Mark's retort. "You're always doing stuff like that. Remember the pub on Tarsonis?"
"Hey now, that wasn't my fault, those damn Fleet guys are way too cocky for their own good." Mark and Jim were in a staring contest, whilst the action down below intensified as the people began fleeing en mass from the buildings.
"Gentlemen," spoke up Sarge, parting the two parties. "If you haven't noticed, we have more important-" Before Sarge could finish his, a raving native, spouting some inane babble, had climbed up the little knoll and with a exotic dagger, leaped into the air and stabbed down into Sarge's chest.
Sarge just looked down, seeing the hilt of the dagger was meeting his chest plate, yet the actual blade, in more pieces then one, was lying on the grass by his feet. His Combat Suit's armor was too strong for the poor creature's knife, and more annoyed then afraid, gave the thing the back of his right hand, sending it flying off the hill and landing with a thud. It stopped moving after that, and a few of its limbs seemed bent out of place.
"Like I said earlier," as Sarge began moving down the hill, followed by two shocked privates. "We have better things to do then sit around here arguing." The platoon intercom crackled as Sarge reported in to the Lieutenant. "Sir, we have confirmation that what we found is, or was, a village of some sorts."
"Was? Explain, Sergeant," was the Lieutenant's next command. Something could be heard from his end, probably the engines of an incoming Command Center setting down in her new home.
"Well, it seems we scared away the local inhabitants, though a few are pretty hell-bent on killing us," reported Sarge, as another screaming alien, with an almost exact copy of the earlier knife, can running at Sarge. The cool, calm NCO lifted his Gauss rifle up and fired off a single 8mm metal "spike" at the angry resident. The very shell knocked him off his feet onto his back a foot from where he was shot, a gaping hole left dead center in his chest.
"Alright, recon the rest of this 'village' and report back on the double," was the Lieutenant's last order, as the radio chatter died with a suddenness like the poor native who had just eaten some lead.
"Mark, you check the inside of those walls, Jim, cover that half of the village, and I'll check this one," barked Sarge, the three soldiers splitting up to their own objectives.
Williams strolled up to the log wall and examined it for any kind of opening. Frustrated with several minutes of searching on his side, he thought "Aw, screw this." Lifting his rifle up and, cocking the underslung grenade launcher, he let fly a high explosive shell. The resulting hole was good enough size for him to walk though, but the overhead, having lost its support, collapsed and left a wide open tear in the wood wall, not to mention starting a few small fires.
Walking in, Mark theorized the walled-in place had been some kind of holding area, perhaps for some cargo or animals, or perhaps something sinister. For now, though, it was completely empty, save for a stone pedestal in the center, and one of the creatures hiding under it. It looked to be male, plain brown clothes, but fear was in his eyes, almost like it was consuming his sole.
As Mark started walking closer to it, he backed up against the wall as quickly as he could, as if trying to claw his way out. Apparently, there was an opening to the enclosed area, spying a crack on the opposite wall revealing a door, but Mark wasn't interested in that right now. Walking up to the pedestal, he looked curiously at the man, though his expression was hidden behind his visor. He was no different then the others, same dull clothing, short with purple markings, red hair and a passion to go with it. As Mark took a few more steps towards him, the man lifted a dagger into the air, shouting more gibberish with a mix of furor and trepidation in his voice.
Mark stepped closer, reaching his hand out as a gesture of friendship. "Maybe I can get through to this one," he thought, standing there with hand outstretched. To his horror, the man raised his knife high and, uttering some final words, stabbed himself in the chest, kneeling over on his side. As he was in his death throws, an idol he had been carrying fell out of his cold hands, rolling towards Mark before stopping at his feet.
Williams picked up the small stone doll, examining it and the dead figure before him. Each looked the same, but the little statue seemed more grandiose, in one hand holding a Partizan-like weapon, the other making some weird hand sign, and rays of light coming from behind his armor-clad body. Walking back over to the pedestal, he placed the figure back on top of it, and walked back out of the hole in the wall.