Short Fiction
Just some short blurbs I wrote, they are all from the same 'universe' as it were. A somewhat generic sci-fi world. Maybe one day they will congeal into something greater.
'I don't know what command has been telling folks back home, but I'm telling you those things are even worse then the 'cloud of locusts' images in the media. They don't just fall on a place and overrun. No...no these bastards are /organized/. Moving from building to building, leap-frog style, keeping each other covered while they clear out a room or foyer. It's like watching insects systematically pick a bone clean.' -Unauthorized trooper journal, seized by Investigations.
'I've seen them in their camps, dancing around listening to recordings of what most of us think of unintelligible noise, but the high concentration of percussion sounds and low sounding string instruments suggests a tribal song, possibly an a method of oral history, or a war song, explaining much about their aggressive and violent tendencies which they have failed to outgrow as a species.' - Classified scouting report on enemy behavior in the field.
'We had it surrounded, closing in, but the damn thing just wouldn't /stop/. It just kept yelling and yelling, firring it's weapon at everything that came at it. We lost seven troopers /seven/. God, I can still see my bunkmate's face when I close my eyes. They're scary man....I can't deal with... those little pink skinned things /scare/ me man.' - Classified debriefing after first contact with the 'Human' race.
'I don't know what command has been telling folks back home, but I'm telling you those things are even worse then the 'cloud of locusts' images in the media. They don't just fall on a place and overrun. No...no these bastards are /organized/. Moving from building to building, leap-frog style, keeping each other covered while they clear out a room or foyer. It's like watching insects systematically pick a bone clean.' -Unauthorized trooper journal, seized by Investigations.
'I've seen them in their camps, dancing around listening to recordings of what most of us think of unintelligible noise, but the high concentration of percussion sounds and low sounding string instruments suggests a tribal song, possibly an a method of oral history, or a war song, explaining much about their aggressive and violent tendencies which they have failed to outgrow as a species.' - Classified scouting report on enemy behavior in the field.
'We had it surrounded, closing in, but the damn thing just wouldn't /stop/. It just kept yelling and yelling, firring it's weapon at everything that came at it. We lost seven troopers /seven/. God, I can still see my bunkmate's face when I close my eyes. They're scary man....I can't deal with... those little pink skinned things /scare/ me man.' - Classified debriefing after first contact with the 'Human' race.