Story [Issue 14] Part 3: The Climax

[GoldRock 6,165]

Important: Whilst you are reading this, I, the author of this article, will be somewhere in the heart of North India, which is not known for providing access to reliable Internet connection. Therefore, as I won't be back 'til the 17th August, do not expect me to be able to read or reply to your responses and feedback until then. Thanks! ~ GoldRock.
 

Read the first part here.

Read the second part here.

HQ of Military Operations, Magistral.

The following Emergency Territorial Action Board meeting was in full swing. However, this time, the atmosphere was one of buzzing anticipation, almost excitement. "Tankmen, we have found the source of our mysterious enemy." grunted Generalissimo Fyodor in gravelly tones, and he shifted his worn-out M3 Mammoth slightly to one side. The stress of the ongoing war had taken its toll on the ETAB chairman. At that moment, he wished he was taking a relaxing stroll through the sandy streets of bustling Iran (which he had given the order to secure early on in his career) or taking a pleasant, non-violent tour of the new, award-winning sector code-named Future... He would retire as soon as he sorted out this mess, he mentally noted to himself.

Collecting his thoughts, Fyodor pressed on with his speech. "This is where their source is located. We managed to get this information from the key enemy leader we captured at Kungur". He pointed towards a map in front of him, first at the spot indicating the location of Kungur (which had a small label next to it reading 'Secured'), and then at a small area not far away. "This is their source" repeated Fyodor. "Sector 23". A dramatic silence, and then... "Erm, what exactly is this source we're dealing with, sir?" asked the Commander seated on his left. "Well... we don't know," admitted the Generalissimo, "it could be anything. It seems the hostile forces we'd captured in Kungur self-destructed at this point of the interrogation  like there was some sort of automatic sequence in place triggered by the attempted extraction of this information..." The anticipation of the board members had changed to a sense of apprehension. "Someone clearly doesn't want us to know." finished the Generalissimo menacingly.

~~~

Military base located at Kungur, the following week.

"Orders have just come through from HQ. We need to perform a grid search of Sector 23" Captain Lyonid declared to his squadron. There was a collective groan at this - grid searches involved splitting the squadron into pairs and combing a sector in directions perpendicular to each other, like a grid, and was often tedious and boring work. Lyonid continued: "We might as well get it over with now... Go on, get your equipment ready." The squadron members reluctantly got to their tracks, and made their way over to their designated barracks.

Once the squadron has assembled outside the military base, Lyonid led the way to Sector 23. The journey was fairly uneventful, with the squadron's formation only being broken once, so they could change direction to avoid having to go through a nearby minefield. For the last leg of the journey, Lyonid ordered his squadron to use up their standard stocks of N2O fuel - they would not be able to use it once they searched the sector anyway, as it was a no-supplies designated area. This was largely due to the fact it was located under a growing hole in the ozone layer, and they did not want to pollute the surrounding environment any further than it already had been. Lyonid had been told it was once a booming industrial sector, but the owners had gone bankrupt and the sector had fallen apart. Nowadays, it was mainly an abandoned area; the perfect place for furtive activity to take place unnoticed, little known to Lyonid...

~~~

Outskirts of Sector 23, a little later.

"Right, this is it..." said Lyonid uncertainly, the sentence trailing off into nothingness. The squadron were gazing upon a collection of old buildings, almost ruins, with a crumbling interconnecting bridge overhead. Lyonid snapped out of his mesmerised state. "Right - let's split into pairs, then. You can go with, erm... him, and you two can keep each other company..." Lyonid ordered, pointing out members of his squadron. Altogether, they had formed five pairs; one heavier hull each to a lighter tank. "So, let's split up. Pairs 1 and 2, head over to the north side of the sector. Pairs 3 and 4, stay here at the south. Myself and Third Lieutenant Volkov, pair 5, will make a beeline for the centre of the sector. Once we're all in position, I'll give the word, and we commence the search. Any questions? No? Good, let's go."

~~~

Pairs 3 and 4, south side of Sector 23.

The two pairs watched the others depart, waiting patiently for the order to start their search. Business as usual. A Wasp/Freeze in all-black paint darted from one building to another, unnoticed. A shadow flickered across the ground in front of the pairs, and startled, they looked around for its source. It seemed to have come from one of the buildings... apparently, the area wasn't completely abandoned. The pairs expertly aimed their weapons towards the building in unison, instantly alert. With a silent motion of his turret, a Dictator/Thunder from pair 3 beckoned for his Hornet/Railgun partner to follow, and they slowly advanced towards the building, the fourth pair holding its ground.

As they drew nearer, there was a sudden commotion of sound and light behind them, and they whirled around only to be frozen to their places from behind by the unnoticed, all-black Wasp. Helpless, they looked on as pair 4 was ambushed by a large group of assailants in black paint - the pair was burnt to a crisp, skewered with long-range shells, and stuck with flashes of red lightning before they had time to react. Their hollow, charred frames were thrown into the air seconds later as they blew apart. The Hornet/Railgun from pair 3 desperately tried to turn to meet the Wasp, charging up his weapon, but the shot missed widely whilst the Wasp danced around the pair, showering them with ice. Soon after, the Hornet exploded, debris knocking both his Dictator/Thunder partner and the Wasp/Freeze attacker off-balance as they span away from the scene. The Dictator/Thunder, by a stroke of sheer luck, landed on his tracks, and fired once at the Wasp, who was still skidding across the ground, blowing him apart. He felt brief satisfaction, and then desperately tried to radio the rest of his squadron for back-up... when the assailants of the fourth pair turned their attention to him. He never stood a chance.

~~~

Pairs 1 and 2, heading towards the north side of Sector 23.

The two pairs trundled over the rough urban terrain towards the north side of the sector. Suddenly, there was static interference over their radios, which cut out after a couple of seconds. "Blimey, we need to replace these things; getting a bit faulty, it seems," commented one half of pair 1, a large Titan/Smoky. "Probably just the humidity," replied his Wasp/Isida partner indifferently, and the Titan shrugged. Little did they know that the static was the result of an attempt to radio the squadron from a certain Dictator/Thunder, cut short in his last moments...

"Nearly there, n-" And then there was chaos. First of all, the Wasp/Isida was hurled into the air as he was ripped apart from beneath by a well-concealed mine. Then, the remaining three turned and fled as they were gunned at from ahead by hidden Shafts. One by one, they were picked off, until the last survivor, the Titan/Smoky turned to face the direction of the enemy fire. "I won't go down like this!" he bellowed, and fired towards a nearby building, hitting a hidden sniper. Lightning crackled, and the sniper was hurled backwards off his perch behind the building, down into the empty space below the edge of the sector where he was ripped apart by the pressure of the drop. A fleeting feeling of triumph crossed the Titan/Smoky's thoughts as he saw the effect his critical hit had, and then he was blasted apart by 4 different radioactive orange shells, taken to the turret.

~~~

Pair 5, the centre of Sector 23.

All was going well. Captain Lyonid and his partner, Third Lieutenant Volkov, had made it to the centre of the sector without mishap. Lyonid checked his radio, which had emitted a couple of seconds of static at one point on the way (he kept telling his squadron not to lean onto the side of their hulls containing their radios since they might accidentally broadcast for a bit, but they never listened), and activated the broadcast setting. "Pairs 1 and 2: do you read me, over." No response. "That's odd," commented Volkov, frowning. Lyonid sighed - their radios were probably acting up again - and broadcasted "Pairs 3 and 4: do you read me, over." Again, no response. "But this is even more odd," pointed out Volkov, a look of fear on his face. Lyonid turned to look at what he was pointing, and he instantly wished he hadn't.

Ahead was a scene of destruction. Destroyed tanks littered to landscape, and signs of fierce fighting were clearly evident. The buildings here had been utterly demolished, though the overhead bridge remained intact. Two trenches had been carved into the rocky ground a fair distance from each other, but they looked as though they would provide minimal cover in a battle. "How nice of you to join us," a voice echoed from behind the pair, "we always appreciate a little company." Lyonid and Volkov whirled around, and they saw a group of all-black tanks standing before them. "Ah... you must be Lyonid! The distinguished brother of the famous Leonid... who we disposed of at Forest". There were unpleasantly appreciative laughs and whoops from the group. Evidently, the tank at the front of their group, who had said this and who was now sneering at the pair, was their leader. Anger filled Lyonid's emotions, and it must have shown on his face, for their leader said quietly, in a dangerously threatening tone: "Go on, then. Attack us. Let's see how much longer you'll last than your brother." None of the group laughed this time.

~~~

HQ of Military Operations, Magistral.

"What do you mean, they've taken Captain Lyonid? Spit it out, kid!" Generalissimo Fyodor shouted, not quite believing what he was hearing. The unfortunate messenger stammered: "Erm... w-w-well, the se-search party s-sent to S-S-Sector 23, sir..." Generalissimo Fyodor's eyes blazed as he leaned in toward the messenger. "Yes?" The messenger finished lamely: "...d-didn't return t-t-to base". But the meaning was enough to the Generalissimo. Lyonid had been captured by the enemy, and was probably being held hostage. "Send the message to prepare a complete attack force, I'll see to this myself," said the Generalissimo, buckling on his weapon. The messenger realised what the Generalissimo was planning to do. "But s-sir, you can't go in t-th-there y-yourself, it's too d-dangerous!" he pleaded, aghast. Fyodor's vehement look of disgust was answer enough.

~~~

Unknown location, Sector 23.

"This," said the all-black enemy leader, "is an area we call Factory." It wasn't hard to see why. All around him, inside the dilapidated buildings, Lyonid could see hundreds of tanks being manufactured; hulls, turrets, armour, tracks, and all sorts of other parts were being made... "We were going to call the area Abandoned Factory, but we figured it's not really abandoned anymore, now that we're using it." The enemy leader chuckled as if he had just told a very funny joke. And sadly, it was very funny by his standards. "You see," continued the enemy leader, recalling their brutal attack on Lyonid's squadron, "we're allowed to be inhumane, as we're tanks!" At this, he burst out laughing, and his all-black guards did the same. Volkov and Lyonid groaned almost at the same time. They didn't know what was worse - the fact that they had been taken hostage by a mysterious enemy with no means of escape, or their enemies' sense of humour.

~~~

A few hours later, just outside Sector 23.

Generalissimo Fyodor glanced over his equipment, checking it was securely in place. All around him, his troops were doing the same. There was a palpable nervous atmosphere surrounding the troops, as here and there they glanced nervously at their leader, whose expression was set. "Right, we need to strike as soon as possible," the Generalissimo growled, "so we have the element of surprise over our unknown enemy. Whatever happens, do not abort the attack. This is all or nothing." He swallowed, which was uncharacteristic of such an experienced, battle-hardened leader, and gave the order to move in.

~~~

Unknown location, Sector 23, immediately afterwards.

"So, anyway..." said the enemy leader, "do we really need you alive?" This question was directed at Volkov, as Lyonid and him were led towards another building. "Erm, well..." Volkov trailed off, appealing to his senior. "Don't you dare lay even a track on him!" snarled Lyonid in response. The enemy leader wheeled round until they were face to face, his guards black-painted hulls creaking menacingly as they did the same. "Excuse me," whispered the enemy leader with malice, "but d'you really think you're in a position to be giving threats?" Lyonid gave him a very ugly look in response, but said nothing. "Good..." the enemy leader purred, and then turned to his guards; "Kill the common soldier. He is of no use to us."

Volkov and Lyonid dived away from the enemy leader and his guards at this point, and let off a volley of shots in their direction, dealing considerable damage to them. But two Thunder shots from the all-black Mammoth guards later, and the commotion was over. Volkov's destroyed hull lay some distance away, Lyonid restrained between the two Mammoths, looking on in horror. Panting heavily with black marks now visible on the front of his hull, the enemy leader commented. "Ah, look who it is! Just the right moment, too!" Lyonid wrenched his gaze from Volkov's corpse to see his allies storming towards the outer buildings of the sector.

~~~

Unknown location, Sector 23, during the attack.

Generalissimo Fyodor and his troops were involved in a desperate struggle. All around them, tanks in black paint emerged from buildings, firing as they advanced. The Generalissimo was rammed on one side by an Isida, leeching off his health by zapping him with bursts of red lightning. He turned his turret and fired, destroying the persistent Isida, but the splash of his Thunder had dealt significant self-damage. Checking his health bar, he saw that it was just past the halfway mark... but he'd been in more dire situations before. He pressed on, taking building by building and destroying the clanging machinery which was churning out parts as they went. The force was nearing the centre of the sector as they furiously duelled the all-black defenders...

 

To be continued...

[hogree 4,179]

Great, as always.. just a bit of a pain that it was stopped where it was!  :P

[r_The-Player20 313]

nice.

 

also:

 

why black spot around text? :(

Edited August 2, 2013 by r_The-Player20

[Lhamster 4,081]

Thats just the way it works when I make it. The text actually had a square black backgound, which I change to the same colour as the tanks have. However, the change only goes up to the edge of where the orange glow actually stops (although it might not seem like it). So unless I zoomed in and changed it pixel by pixel, I can't change that bit too (and it would actually end up looking weird)

[GoldRock 6,165]

Thanks Selena for adding the 'To be continued' bit!

 

Great, as always.. just a bit of a pain that it was stopped where it was!  :P

I'll just have to do a fourth part, I guess :P

[cole1811 1]

can you make yourself the hero of the story?

[cole1811 1]

:)  ;)  :P  :D  :lol:  :(  :angry:  :mellow:  :huh:  ^_^  :o  B)  :rolleyes:  -_-  <_<  :wub:  :unsure:  :wacko:  :blink:  :ph34r: 

[TriNitroToIuene 4,765]

Hey what do  you mean North India's not got Internet connection!

[I.King.Lagger 86]

Great work