POLITICS AND SOLDIERS SILENT FAME

POLITICS AND SOLDIERS SILENT FAME

By Griffin Vengance

3rd May 2006


Deep inside an ancient asteroid crater which had become the site of the Imperial Intrasystem Defence Power Plant (basically, it fuelled the guns in space), there were many shadows. It was an extremely deep crater, so it was rare that sunsine could reach down into its depths; hence artificial light and the many natural shadows that came with it.
But there was one shadow that was hardly natural.
The peculiar shadow in question seemed to quietly scale the 50ft tritanium wall, and vanished altogether as the shadow slithered over the top.

Without so much as a hint of an impact, a heavily armed Skylordian solider landed gracefully onto the gravel floor.
As he made his way towards the first pair of guards, he couldn't help but reflect on just how he'd gotten here.
Before the war, all he'd really dreamt off was fame; he could practically hear the roars of the crowd and see the proud eyes of the Primeminister as he hung the medal on his chest. He had only dreamt of being a general, being a top voice in the highest affairs of office.
The slaughter of Twilight Citadel had drilled that green eared newbie straight out of his mouth.
Now he was ust a hardcore killer. It wasn't pleasant, he knew. It would never earn him the glory he had so yearned. But the Skylords needed hardcore if they were going to push back the alien Empire.
In the asteroid camp, he and the two other veterans had assessed the newbie. The Legionaire and the SAS Commando had proven themselves to be the ablest soldiers in Trent's experiene; he respected them for that.
But the young green marine who had been ordered to kill the enemy's general was no veteran. That simple. Heck, the only action he'd served in was the one at Helios XVII, and even then he had been poor. The kid had courage though; for what he lacked in sill, he made up for in courage and tenacity.
Still...
With a frown plastered on his helmeted face, he grimly primed a bio-grenade and witin seconds, the two brown aliens were on the floor, literally spewing their guts out.
Without even changig expression, Colonel Jack Trent stepped into the room. He was glad that there was no neeed for messing around trying to find the generator room, as the bomb would be just as efffective inside the building as right inside a generator.
Choosing the best defensive spot, he settled down and planted the spiky tactical nuclear bomb, the sat down and waited as the plant's sensors did their usual sweep of the facility.
Found the bomb.
And sent hundreds of Imperials to it.
When he heard the alarm, the Colonel cursed at his luck, but prepped himself ad with a sub-machine gun in each hand, starting blazing in is final moment of glory.
12...
A group of aliens are trampled.
8...A determined warrior climbs on Trent's back.
4...He knocks away the rifle.
With a hoarse whisper, Trent both acnowledged his non-existant fans and grinned his last words.
"Hey, sucker."
A translator clicks.
"BURN."

Onboard the Saviour, the Captain nods...and acnowledges his old friend with a round of thunderous applause.

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