| From: | Forgotten Horror <phinar@**.CENCOM.NET> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Bug City, from the inside |
| Date: | Wed, 14 Jun 1995 00:26:26 EDT |
+++++INVALID USER
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>>>>>[Heh. We drew straws ta see who'd get ta make this post. Everyone
misses the 'board, it seems. But I won. So fer all you out there who give a frag, sit
tight. See what we got in Chi-town.
I'm s'posin' it'd be a good idea ta fill y'all in a bit, seein' as how
we been quiet these past few weeks. Well, 'bout halfway thru the ol'
spook's briefin', Bedlam reconsidered his disagreement 'bout bringin'
along extra muscle. I think it was the bit 'bout magically active
folks lookin' like ten-course meals ta the bugs that really got him
thinkin' maybe we might like some back-up. Anyway, he had me import
Kim. And Kim, bein' the oaf he is, decided he needed ta bring his
buddy. So we added a coupla trolls to our team.
Oh, and afore I forget. This here was done with Kim's new eyes. I'm
only sorry y'all had ta be witness to it's crudeness. He ain't quite
got the hang of keepin' his head still.
+++++INCLUDE: Chicago.05-31-56.video
Smoke fills a city street as the initial images roll past. The
camera's motion is jerky -- almost vertigo-inducing -- but the
cityscape you see is not unfamiliar. It looks like nearly any other
barrens you have had the pleasure of avoiding -- littered with trash
from years long past, scarred with the aftereffects of frequent
gunfights and occassional automobile accidents. The same sense that
eyes peer from behind boarded windows draws your gaze to hunt out
shadows in doorways. Fortunately, the camera seems inclined to do the
same, though the jerking change seems less inclined toward careful
examination.
A rough voice breaks in over the silence. "Nice entrance, huh? The
UCAS boys weren't real partial to the idea of a Banshee loose in the
CZ, so they went and took the thang away from us. Told us they'd drop
a van in for us instead. So we hopped into a box and let 'em drop us.
The box had smoke charges on the outside, and when they went, the
bolts blew. Left us with a clear street. Almost."
It is at this moment that you see the first sign of activity in the
streets. The randomly panning camera freezes on a figure darting from
one burned-out wreck to another, nearly a hundred meters down the
street. The voice continues its narration.
"OK, now, keep yer eyes left. That's Bedlam, already looking for his
first interrogation. And as soon as he breaks, you'll see TopCat if
yer watchin' real close."
A dark figure slides past the outside edge of the camera almost as
soon as the voice quiets, and quickly blends into the shadows. Only an
instant later, you see a blur on the other side of the street. It
hesitates long enough for you to ascertain that it's one monster elf
with whiskers protruding from his face before ducking into an
alleyway.
A gun barrel, which an expert would recognize as the assault-rifle
configuration of a Steyr AUG-CSL, rises up before the camera, and
loadout information and ranges appear on the left and right of the
display. A crosshairs is painted across the vehicle the distant shadow
is presumably now behind.
"What a team, eh?" the voice continues. "Not even a hint of serious
threat, and already they're jostling for position to kill."
At that moment a line of bullets stitches the tarmac in front of the
camera. This is immediately followed by a jouncing motion and rapid
pans searching for the source of the gunfire. A car looms ahead for a
moment, then fills the lower field of view as the cameraman peers
across the hood. The crosshairs again draw in on the car down the
street, range marked 96.25m. The ammo readout does a quick flip as the
weapon system changes, and the crosshairs realign. Trails of exhaust
mark the arc of two grenades flying away in rapid sequence.
"Well, I could say a lot of bad things about that. I mean, our stealth
points dropped dramatically the moment that trigger was pulled. But it
turns out for the better."
Two twin flashes shred the targeted car as bullet holes begin
stitching cars in the immediate vicinity. The camera swings to the
left, where two figures huddle, one troll-sized and wrapped in black,
the other a human, both looking a little nervously back. The camera
dips in a nod, and the troll stands as the camera lurches unsteadily
upwards. The targeting indicators switch again, and muzzle flash
momentarily throws its glare across the screen, whitewashing an image
of multiple forms crouched in firing stance. The rangefinder indicates
a 102.6m distance to the nearest. The camera dips again, lowering to
peer across the hood. The crouching figures almost immediately rise
and fan out, seeking cover behind wrecked vehicles. For the first
time, it becomes clear that the aggressors are wearing some kind of
uniforms, mostly grey in color, with splashes of black insignia. Four
of these uniformed men fall en route, the bodies falling at an angle
that suggests attack from behind.
"Would ya look at that? Surrounded 'em in nothin' flat. Now watch
their response. These boys have been trained, it's clear, but not
well."
The surviving figures, as another drops, quickly head for a car. One
gestures, indicating both parties near the camera and also two alley
mouths, presumably where the other shots came from.
"Now that guy's got us figured out. And he decides ta hunker down. But
bad choice of hidin' spots. Watch this."
While four gunmen provide suppression fire, the small group (now 6)
moves toward a doorway. Upon reaching their objective, they vanish
into the pools of shadow. The camera flicks between the two alleyways
and the door, and soon, TopCat emerges from the one on the same side
of the street as the doorway. Before he even reaches it, however, you
see multiple flashes illuminate the doorway, and a fine spray of
pellets grays the air for a moment. A second later, a troll steps out
and grins, a smoking HK-CAW shotgun in his enormous paw. His
bedraggled clothes are those of a barrens dweller, and his stature
significant.
"So ya see, it don't pay ta frag the locals too often. Our friend here
told us all about these guys. Real drekheads. They swoop in on air
drops like vultures, shootin' the hell outta the local kids, then
bugger off to their little breeder enclave where they eat like kings.
But wait. The best part's still comin'."
The camera rises, and the big troll waves, a grin stretching his face
in unlikely directions. Meanwhile, TopCat visibly relaxes, lowering
his pistol, as another elf emerges from the other alley, eating a
sandwich. This new figure lopes across the street as he finishes his
snack, glancing around warily. As he gets about halfway across the
street, a car zips around a corner about five blocks away. It heads
toward the gathering for a moment, then pulls a quick bootlegger's
turn and begins speeding away. Moments later a van emerges from the
same cross-street, turning to follow the retreating car.
"Yep, you guessed it. There goes our car. And our extra ammo, extra
food, and our radio gear. Made me wanna cry. It really did."
+++++END FILE
Heh. And you all thought you had it rough.
-- Jolly Roger]
-- JohnnyM (BugKiller/SatteliteHacker)
