Meanwhile, the Marines are falling apart. They’ve been trained for some extraordinary shit, but they’re taking losses, and they don’t really have the gear they need to do anything about it. As their formation begins to break, they start edging toward their personnel carrier.
K squints. He’s not having this. Not now.
Without a word he draws the Noisy Cricket again, and a moment later, the personnel carrier explodes in a burst of metal and flame.
When the Marines recover from the blast and try to see what just happened to their only way out, all they see is a Man in Black in shades. Hefting that gun that makes all of theirs look like toys. And a ramrod posture even their Parris Island boot camp sergeants couldn’t have managed on their best days.
“I trust I have your attention, gentlemen?” K growls in a normal speaking voice that has no trouble cutting through all the Chaos and Doom, wraps a steel hand around their Fear, and starts squeezing the very life out of it.
K points at the wreckage. “You won’t be needing that. You are Marines.”
“You will not be losing your shit, gentlemen. Marines do not lose their shit. They make the other guy lose his shit, even if he’s some hell-spawned monstrosity from the very worst dimension you can imagine and then some.”
“And that is bearing down on us right now, gentlemen, and no mistake. Hell itself and worse.”
“And if you don’t stop it here, Hell’s next stop is each and every one of your homes. Where everyone you care about is sitting right now, waiting for you to do your jobs and send every one of these nightmares to the Nameless Abyss that unleashed it .”
“So I suggest you get about doing that. Now, gentlemen.”
And then K grins. “Because I don’t know about you, but I’ve got one hell of a lot of high-powered, plasma ammunition left, and I’m damned if I’m going to see it all go to waste in a target-rich environment like this!”
It starts with a low growl, but it builds fast to a shout and then full-on ROAR of fury. And then the men charge.
They are Marines.
They may be running to their Doom.
But those unspeakable sons-of-bitches are going DOWN.
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timeasmymeasure
Re: Action Time: Team Boom
Date: 2008-02-02 04:34 am (UTC)K squints. He’s not having this. Not now.
Without a word he draws the Noisy Cricket again, and a moment later, the personnel carrier explodes in a burst of metal and flame.
When the Marines recover from the blast and try to see what just happened to their only way out, all they see is a Man in Black in shades. Hefting that gun that makes all of theirs look like toys. And a ramrod posture even their Parris Island boot camp sergeants couldn’t have managed on their best days.
“I trust I have your attention, gentlemen?” K growls in a normal speaking voice that has no trouble cutting through all the Chaos and Doom, wraps a steel hand around their Fear, and starts squeezing the very life out of it.
K points at the wreckage. “You won’t be needing that. You are Marines.”
“You will not be losing your shit, gentlemen. Marines do not lose their shit. They make the other guy lose his shit, even if he’s some hell-spawned monstrosity from the very worst dimension you can imagine and then some.”
“And that is bearing down on us right now, gentlemen, and no mistake. Hell itself and worse.”
“And if you don’t stop it here, Hell’s next stop is each and every one of your homes. Where everyone you care about is sitting right now, waiting for you to do your jobs and send every one of these nightmares to the Nameless Abyss that unleashed it .”
“So I suggest you get about doing that. Now, gentlemen.”
And then K grins. “Because I don’t know about you, but I’ve got one hell of a lot of high-powered, plasma ammunition left, and I’m damned if I’m going to see it all go to waste in a target-rich environment like this!”
It starts with a low growl, but it builds fast to a shout and then full-on ROAR of fury. And then the men charge.
They are Marines.
They may be running to their Doom.
But those unspeakable sons-of-bitches are going DOWN.