He was doing a final check of equipment. He looked in horror at the empty space where his Unga pouch should be. Spirting from the alamo into med bay he suddenly collided with one of the doctors. The doctor in question was an odd fellow. Wearing nothing but his under uniform and sporting a large afro. Before the marine could say a single word, the doctor dropped a single injector into his hands. “That should handle any of your medical needs.” The marine tried to reply but the alamos alarm stopped that.
The alamo erupted into laughter when his face hit the floor. He looked around and realized no seats were left. Round two with the floor came shortly later and his fellow marines marched right over his body. One was kind enough to pull him up. However, it was his SL who kindly remined him that he was a puny magot and to get moving. As his squad marched around, he noticed how quiet it was. It was suddenly broken by the sound of gun fire.
He ducked behind a metal barrel. His squad was not so lucky. Bullets flew from all directions and in the longest few seconds of his life his entire squad died. When the gun fire stopped, he heard a voice “surrender now imperialist we have you surrounded.” His options filled his mind, but the glint of a sniper sight convinced him to surrender. The woman who cuffed him wore a ragged uniform with the word colonial liberation front hastily written on the front. Her hand forced his head down on the barrel before asking “rank and mission now.” He replied “privet first class. We were sent to respond to a distress signal.” Although he was expecting a verbal response, she instead put a bullet into his back.
He slumped onto the ground. The bullet let out some kind of thick tar from the barrel that covered his face. He was too weak to stop it. It filled his eyes and ears. The world went black, and the voices of the rebels became horribly muffled. The object in his pocket grabbed his attention. With the last of his strength, he forced his cuffed hand into his pocket and injected himself. He felt the pain stop around the injection point. The numbness quickly enveloped his whole body.
It did not hurt anymore. He did not feel weak anymore, his mind was now calm. Quickly he rose to his feet and the muffled voices became louder. A quite bang rang out and he felt a bullet dig into his chest. The pain and fear most men would feel was not here now. The zip ties could not hold his hands. For a moment he was amazed by his newfound strength. He punched at the noises and his fist hit one of the rebels. He felt the rebel’s soft flesh, then hard bone, then flesh again, before finally open air. The rebel let out a yelp before falling silent. Many more shots filled his body, but it did not matter. Soon he made sure every muffed bang and voice fell silent.
The tar on his face proved another matter. He quickly gave up trying to remove it, fearing he might take his head off. It was okay as he clearly did not need vision to kill. A crushing realization hit him he had no idea how to get back to FOB. That thought was interrupted by high caliber round tearing its way into him but bouncing off his rib. He thought to himself “ah right the sniper. Forgot about that.”
He charged at the sniper position. His body felt weightless, and the air rushed past him at extreme speed. He was not exactly sure how long he had been running when he crashed into some metal object. He felt it over cutting his hand on the wire. He thought to himself “wait a metal wall and barred wire. It’s a cade. Guess I found the enemy base. Luckly me.” A muffled voice quickly captured his attention. The words were beyond deciphering but his boot knife quickly silenced it.
Many other voices filled his ears. He grabbed his rifle and tried to fire. He could not tell why it did not fire but threw it down regardless. Quickly vaulting the cade he charged at the voice’s knife in hand. One voice soon became too many to count. Soon an storm of screens and bangs filled the world. The bullets fell on him like rain. He swung in the darkness hitting concrete, metal, and occasionally flesh. Each gave a muffled yelp before silence. Again and again, he swung till all, but a few were silent.
The few voices left weere behind a metal wall of some kind. He dragged his arm across it’s surface before finding a small crack. Digging his hand he pulled with all his might. He felt the mechanism give way causing the door to swing open. After 10 or so where silenced there was only one left. To his surprise yet another door was in his way, it too was quickly forced open. As soon as he opened the door a bang roared out. He felt the buckshot rip into his face tearing down to the bone. A load thud hit the floor confirming in return his knife had made its mark.
That doctor’s medicine was fast. It did not take long for his eyes to regenerate now free from the tar. He saw before him a dead man in a flight suit with shotgun in hand. However, any markings were too covered in blood to read. Looking around it became apparent he was inside some kind of dropship. Making his way outside he saw a base covered in blood and dead soldiers. He smiled imaging how many rebels he killed and what the CO would say. His smile quickly faded when he saw a blood-soaked flag of the UA still flying over the base.
(Any MP mains tell me what charges this guy would get.)