Well, I got so worked up about my next story idea, that I'm going to be working on Chronicles of Deimos, it's sequel (the last Altair story I'm going to write for a while), and this one, which will be a bit more gritty and realistic then Altair's heroic storyline.
Anyhow, the main point is this also takes place in the early 42nd Millienium, so don't be confused if some things stick out as weird.
Of course, this is MY story, so things are bound to be a little weird....
Corporal Tobias "Twitch" Stalger had seen his fair share of the Guard.
When the commissars had preached to his homeworld of Basis, he hadn't hesitated to sign up. He had taken a day and a half to gather his meager belongings from his hab, and had left his parents weeping at the front doors.
He had been met by a friendly sergeant named Reikan and a gaggle of new recruits. The sergeant gestured with a gloved hand at the back door of a truck. The boys climbed into the back.
Six hours later, a bruised and sore group pulled themselves from the truck. Tobias later learned that Reikan had removed the rear shocks on the truck before coming to get them.
Basic was easy enough. He was issued a bunk and a footlocker, which had two uniforms, a set of flak armor, a helmet, a kneepad, his belt (complete with a canteen and a bayonet), and an entrenching tool. A surly armorer provided him with a lasgun and laspistol.
Two weeks into Basic, he met a private named Kjel Berenson. Tobias learned that Kjel was only two bunks away, and with a little bribery to his bunkmate, Kjel slept on the top bunk of Tobias' bed.
The two quickly became inseperable, forcing Sergeant Reikan to put them both in the same fireteam, along with Ignis "Izzy" Chambers, Viktor Ghesmane, and a shadowy, thin sergeant everyone just called Ghost.
After four weeks, they began to drill.
"Hey, Twitch, how many do the Reds still have?" hissed Izzy over the comm.
"Four, Sarge took out their sergeant."
"Gotcha. I've got two over here, Kjel and Vick are with me. Contact." Tobias heard shots.
"Sorry. Hard Contact."
Ghost suddenly appeared next to him, making Tobias flinch. The man seemed to simply warp from place to place, and almost never spoke, earning him his name.
Ghost whipped his hand into a series of signals. Tobias' eyes widened at their meaning.
Two right above.
He looked up, each beat of his heart a bass drum.
Sure enough, two of Red Team's men were crouched in a makeshift treestand a dozen feet from where he and Ghost lay prone in the muddy undergrowth.
He heard them whispering, cursing himself for responding to Izzy's vox.
One leapt down from the stand, not ten feet from him. The man walked casually in Tobias' direction, his boots making noises like the habs falling to Tobias.
He was right underneath the man. He felt branches compress his back.
There was no way the man couldn't see him. He wondered where Ghost had gone.
The man squatted down above him, examining a bootprint. Tobias saw the look of terror in the man's eyes for a split second before his mouth opened to scream a warning to his comrade. Tobias leapt straight up, putting a paint round square in the man's visor. His friend tripped out of the stand and fell to the ground. Tobias was hit by the paint-blinded man in his stuggles on the ground. He tripped, cursing. The surviving Red lined up a shot. At this range, there was no need to aim high.
A paint round the size of Tobias' fist smote the man in the side of his head, knocking him out instantly. His helmet, upper chest, and visor were instantly coated in red paint.
Ghost stalked out of the treeline, holding a bolter. Smoke coiled from the barrel.
"Twitch, this is Izzy. Vick got hit, but we managed to hit both of them. Clear?"
"Yeah. Me n' Sarge got the missing two."
Ghost was impassive behind his emotionless visor. Tobias realised he had never seen the man's face. His sergeant wore a full-faced Kasrkin helmet, along with a full-length camoflague trenchcoat, making him almost impossible to spot in the dense forests of his homeworld.
Ghost put his hand on Tobias' shoulder. He nodded a "job well done", and left, carrying the knocked-out Red Team man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The blinded Red was still foundering in the underbrush. Tobias helped him to his feet and removed his helmet for him. The man nodded his thanks and together they left, meeting the other six men in the observaton shack a half-mile away.
You'll forgive me, but you must be mistaken. I've met your makers, and they don't even know your name...
GIVING CHASE- ORDO HERETICUS FIC (Updated Mar. 19)
Hat in the Ring