Story [Issue 36] The Story Behind the Colors: Swash

[Kevred 1,586]

Note: Enhancing Your Reading Experience

 

 

It is recommended to those who are reading this story to play the video below:

 

 

It is a BGM (background music) video which, if played while reading, will greatly enhance your reading experience. Comments on your opinions about this will be appreciated.

 

Music by: Two Steps From Hell

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The Tal’s recent actions are unacceptable, says the Eurasian Crown. Indeed, their use of chemical and biological weapons on London and surrounding urban areas have risen them to the level of global threat. Already two billion civilians have died from the virus they unleashed. It is now apparent that they are willing to go to any extent in order to gain what they wish. As such, the government has decided to eradicate them as soon as possible, not only to preserve the Eurasian nation, but also to preserve the human race.”

 

General Lox paused the News Feed and turned his vision away from the screen, and back to the three men sitting in front of him.

 

“The United Nations have given us the permission to ignore the Charter of Human Rights in regard of the Tal Ourouk. You know your task.Get to the Geographic South Pole, activate the Aurora Beam and let science do the rest. Good luck, gentlemen, and may Operation Cold Victory be a success.”

 

 

-

 

 

The General’s words resonated in commander Urban’s head as his squadron trudged through the bitter winter carpet of Antarctica. A small blur of grey and black uniforms, solitary amongst a sea of white. Even though the Viking shielded him from the brunt of the polar continent's perils, the blasting wind still froze his sweat before it even appeared. The tank’s specially modified tracks carved a path through the otherwise rough hardened snow, through which marched the army of 50 men accompanying Urban, Julian and their tactical analyst Espon.

 

They had proceeded as such across two hundred kilometres, one sixth of the distance from Antarctica's coast to the South Pole, when they came across the Ellbruis mountain range, extending tall into the white sky. Exhausted, the group nevertheless started its way through the Vostok valley, the unique pathway through these towering land formations.

 

The devastating attack happened on the 23rd of May. The group was nearly at the exit of the winding valley when suddenly huge chunks of ice came rolling down both flanks from high above, blocking the path they came from.

 

“We’re under attack! Everyone get into cover!” Urban leaped behind the Viking tank as the Eurasian soldiers scrambled around in complete chaos. The Tal shot and fired down at the assaulted group, creating a cloud of snow dust, ironically hiding the Eurasians from their view.

 

Taking advantage of the momentary safety, Espon rejoined Urban behind the tank. “Espon!” Urban said after he realized his presence. “Stay here with the men and resist as long as possible. I'm going with Julian further down the canyon. We’re going to use the Beam on them, but it only works on long distances.”

 

“Roger that. Make it quick,” Espon acknowledged as he readied his weapon.

 

" ‘Course we will. We’re professionals, after all,” Urban winked, gave him a light pat on the shoulder and headed down the opposite path to the boulders sent by the Tal, accompanied by Julian. Shooting à l'aveugle towards their enemies stationed on the two cliffs, they managed to escape the death zone and started their progress towards the exit of the ancient river bed.

 

The duo had walked a long way when suddenly their boots’ crampons lost hold on the numerous sheets of ice. The ice prolonged into a frozen river, and the two men, powerless, slid down its icy current. They desperately tried to stop themselves, but the force of gravity kept forcing them down the slope, demonstrating the impotency of humans against such great natural powers. Gravity dragged them down for miles until they eventually crashed into a stray mound of snow.

 

Coughing and gasping from the unwanted roller-coaster ride, Urban wiped the snow away from its face and pulled more of it out of his collar. Julian stood besides him, staring at the deep silence separating them from their group.

 

They were outside of the valley. All around them lay kilometres of snow fields and hills. It was a desolate but solemn landscape, devoid of any form of life or nature. 

 

“I think we’re far enough to use the Beam now,” Urban pointed out aloud, pulling the two men out of their reverie. Julian not so much as mumbled a reply as he set up the long titanium cylinder referred to as the Beam.

 

“Ev’thing’s ready,” he finally said after a while of impending silence, reinforced by the solitude of the Southern scenery. 

 

“Got it,” Urban pulled out his walkie-talkie: “Espon, do you read me? Espon, come in.” He paused for a moment, awaiting an answer, but all that came out of the device was static buzzing. Exchanging a look with Julian, he tried again: “Espon, Espon, come in.”

 

“Urban! We’re taking heavy fire!” Espon finally replied. Background gunshots and shouts could be easily heard over Espon's voice.

 

“Espon, the Beam is charged. We need the Tal’s coordinates.”

 

“Right! 34-x, 12-3-y, 6-z! Make it quick!”

 

“Hang tight Espon, help from above is coming,” worried, Urban closed his walkie-talkie and turned to Julian, asking him a silent question. 

 

“Coordinates entered. Ready when you are,” Julian answered. "Are...are you sure about this?"

 

Urban noticed the slight shaking in Julian’s voice, but took no notice of it.

 

He nodded. “Give the Tal a taste of Sun Power.”

 

 

-

 

 

The two lone men anxiously sat in wait for their team to meet up with them. Hours had flied by like the Antarctican winds when finally Urban caught the first sight of the tip of a dinged, but nevertheless working Viking.

 

“Julian! They arrived! Hey! Over here!” Both of them, invigorated with renewed energy stood up and made frantic gestures with their arms. The procession came out of the valley and made its way towards them, causing the smiles on the two commanders’ faces to quickly disappear as they noticed something was terribly, terribly wrong. A red substance could be seen splattered all over the tanks’ armors and the men’s uniforms, and the group was way too small.

 

Anxious, they ran to rejoin their approaching friends. Espon was at the head of the succession, unharmed, in contrast to the rest of the troops, or...what remained of them. Of the fifty soldiers, only a handful injured and drained men and women remained.

 

Julian extended his arms to clasp his friend when the latter raised the carbine hanging at his neck and pointed it at him.

 

“You piece of junk…” Espon digged the cold steel barrel into Julian’s neck. “That beam nearly killed us all.”

 

Urban attempted to interpose himself between Espon and Julian, but a woman held him in check with her submachine gun.

 

“Stay back,” she flicked her gun. Reluctantly, Urban backed up.

 

“What’s going on here?” Julian muttered, cautious of the gun barrel poked into his neck.

 

“The Aurora Beam! It annihilated us...didn't even scratch the Tals. As if you didn't know, traitor.”

 

“That’s impossible. It’s proven to never miss his target,” Urban interrupted.

 

“Exactly. Which means you purposely targeted the wrong location. Way to prove yourself guilty.”

 

“I personally entered to coordinates 34-x, 12-3-y, 6-z. If there an error, it was on your side,” Julian argued.

 

As Julian enumerated said coordinates, Urban witnessed hesitation graze Espon’s eyes.

 

“I did not say those numbers...I specifically remember saying 54-x, 12-3-y, 4-z…”

 

Strangely, Urban detected a touch of anxiety and nervousness in Espon’s voice, but attributed it to the cold. He then replied, “That’s impossible, mate. We didn't hear that.”

 

“No, it’s not impossible...my communicator must have been rigged,” Espon’s tone was firm, but there was trace of doubt in the way his vision switched from one point to another so often. 

 

He continued, "Yes...it’s been rigged...and the one who last touched my communicator is…” He pulled his gun away from Julian’s neck and pointed it instead at a young man standing besides him.

 

“Private Robert Cast,” he said as he clicked the trigger. The limp body smashed onto the cold ground, raising a cloud of snow.

 

“Espon! Have you gone out of your mind!” Julian protested as he wrestled the gun out of Espon's hands, horrified at how easily he killed one of their own.

 

“There’s no place for traitors in our team. Lets keep moving. After all, the bosses are still waiting back home for us, in their big comfy couches, warm and all,” Espon justified.

 

Without further ado, he marched away, followed by the remnant of the expedition, all previous hints of worry gone. Baffled, Urban and Julian had no other choice but to follow along.

 

 

-

 

 

“Espon, pass me your communicator, mine’s broken,” Urban asked.

 

The group had travelled for one entire month since the event of the valley. The majority of their equipment lost during the Tal Ourouk ambush in the mountains, they had no idea where they were, and how much distance was left. At night, they oriented themselves thanks to the stars, and rested during the day. The bitter cold was sapping their vitality. Only last night, the last of the two remaining soldiers died of hypothermia. The others had buried him in a snow tomb, just like everyone else. These white mounds periodically marked their passage, indicating the final resting places of the members of the expedition. Of all the soldiers, there was only one left.

 

Without reply, Espon passed his communicator to Julian, who then gave it to Urban. Squinting through the snow, the latter dialled a number.

 

“Hello? Cindy, do you read me?” He asked. The last of the original force of 50 Eurasians was walking way behind, covering their back.

 

“Yes, sir. Anything wrong?” Cindy answered.

 

“How’s the weather back there?”

 

“Uh, snowy and cold as usual, sir. Why?”

 

“Oh, nothing,” Urban shut off the communicator and threw it back at Espon, after giving a quick shrug as a response to Julian’s questioning look. He readjusted his anorak as he kept on treading through miles of deep snow. Ahead and behind we’re nothing but vast plains of white. Deadly, blinding, treacherous white.

 

 

-

 

 

The dawn of the seventh day of the second month arose as the group reached the summit of a cliff. They stared at the immensity of Antarctica when suddenly Cindy spotted something in the distance. She raised an arm, the other one grasping the three men's coats and trying to make them see what she was witnessing.

 

“Sir! Look! There! The South Pole! We made it! We made it!” The red pole appearing in the far horizon replenished them with new energy. The bright red flushed out tiredness as all four began jumping and shouting wildly, unmindful of the snow seeping into their coats.

 

"We made it! We made it!" Urban attempted to clasp Cindy, but lost his footing on the slippery ground, bringing the others with him into a bumpy slide down the other side of the cliff. They tumbled into rocks, cut their hands on jagged ice, but when they finally came to a full stop at the bottom, they stood up again, unfazed, and sprinted relentlessly towards the faraway pole. Their boots thumped the hard snow like a rhythmic heartbeat, bringing life and hope back to their eyes. Their hands clutched the ground, aiding their feet to maintain their balance on the slippery and abundant frozen water. Finally, completely exhausted, the quartet arrived and surrounded the pole, hands extended in a loving embrace of the glass globe topping the white-and-red rod anchored firmly into the ground by men who lived more than a century ago.

 

“We made it...we made it,” Julian murmured the word over and over, as if trying to convince himself. Espon, the least excited of the four, reminded them of their mission.

 

“Come, set the Aurora Beam, lets get this over with," he ordered, his voice firm.

 

Julian continued to laugh joyfully, not noticing the strange sparkle in Espon’s eyes. "No, don’t set it there, set it on this side of the Pole. Your side is tomorrow, my side is today. Time zones, remembers? Bring it here, so we can make the end of the war happen one day in advance!”

 

Espon ignored Julian's jokes as he decided to grab the Beam himself. He rose up from his crouched position, but was brutally stopped by the cold contact of metal on his head.

 

“Not so fast,” Urban ordered, holding him in check with his handgun. The smiles immediately disappeared from the others' faces.

 

Urban explained. “I tried your communicator, Espon. It works. Which means you were lying to us,” Urban continued.

 

Before Espon could reply, Cindy pulled out her own gun and pointed it at Urban.

 

“Espon’s no traitor! Put your gun down, sir, now!” She ordered.

 

“Cindy, leave it," Espon murmured, "I’ll handle this myself, like a man should, unlike the Eurasian generals. Because Urban’s right...I work for the Tals.” Espon suddenly pulled out his gun and the sound of a gunshot perturbed the cold silence. Urban looked at his own body, expecting to see a blood, but found nothing. He then looked up and saw the shock and confusion mixed in Cindy’s expression, right before she collapsed onto the ground. Espon then directed his steaming gun to his two shocked former friends.

 

“Espon...what has gotten into you? The Tals? You’re working for them? For evil, for cruelty, for inhumanity?”

 

“Inhumanity! You call the Tals inhuman? I should remind you that two seconds ago we were on the verge of using one of the most devastating nuclear weapons ever, which would have nearly eradicated the ozone layer and caused genetic mutations for generations to come!”

 

“Many mutations are still better than a few deaths. It’s for the greater good,” Julian replied.

 

Espon sighed as he slowly shook his head. “No, no, no...wake up! Those soon-to-be-born people won’t be given the option to choose whether they accept to selflessly give away their body’s symmetry. The Eurasians are forcing those mutations onto them. They’re forcing them. To my knowledge the Tals have never done such a thing.”

 

Urban noticed how Espon referred to the Eurasians at the third person, as if himself and Julian were not part of it. He then realized Espon was trying to convince them to switch sides. That idea curved him into a cold laugh.

 

“Oh my dear, ‘the Tals have never done such a thing’? Did you really just say that? Hmm, I wonder if the inhabitants of London chose to be wiped out by an atomic bomb,” Urban sarcastically asked.

 

“The majority of the population had already been killed when the bomb struck. Some of them even died as collateral damage from the Eurasians’ own rockets! And besides, I’ll have you know that, in fact, the Tals actually issued a warning, telling all citizens to evacuate,” Espon paused as he witnessed Urban’s sarcastic smile immediately disappear. He continued: “But the Crown still reserved the transports for the military instead of the population. Why? Because an army is useful for increasing your own power, whilst civilians help you in no way and instead eat your resources.”

 

“Shut up, liar,” Julian intervened. Espon’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Whatever. Now activate the Aurora Beam. It’s time to...switch its target. Today is the day the Eurasians fall. Activate it!”

Julian remained immobile, his head tilted towards the ground in stubborn refusal to obey.

 

“You two are the only ones with the activation codes…” Espon said, more to himself than to them. “Activate it Julian, or I shall kill Urban and extract the necessary information from his brain."

 

Espon smiled. "You have no other option.”

 

Julian shot Urban a look. In his eyes were mixed feelings, Reason clashing against Friendship, Duty against Hope. Urban stared at his friend’s eyes, his face expressionless.

 

Julian finally spoke. “Eradicate evil from this world, Urban. Do what you deem right.”

 

Before any of them could react, he pulled out his gun, but instead of aiming it at Espon, he instead emptied his cartridge onto the ice below their feet. Espon’s gun went off afterwards and sent a bullet straight into Julian’s chest, but it wasn't enough to stop him. Julian then pushed his old friend Urban off the hill on which the South Pole was planted, getting another bullet into his thigh in the meantime. With one final defiant shout, he smashed the ice under him open with his boot, creating fissures which spread all over the mound. Then all went silent. Urban was at the feet of the hill, gasping. Espon and Julian faced each other into a deadly stare, blood drizzling down the latter’s tattered coat.

 

Then, suddenly, time slowed down as the ice of the hill cracked open, revealing the freezing dark waters underneath. The dark mass came up into a geyser, swallowing the entire hill, before crashing back into its gloom bed. The ice plaques crashed back onto the water, then everything turned silent once more. All happened in a matter of seconds. As Urban, sent on his back by the shockwave, turned around, all he saw was the dreadful white stretching all around him into the horizon. Julian, Espon, the South Pole, the hill, all gone. There was only one lone Viking tank, still sitting besides him. A Viking and...Urban spotted an object protruding from the water. The Aurora Beam. Julian had shoved it aside right before he was devoured by the frozen lake. Fishing it out, Urban, without thinking entered the activation codes, too dehydrated to cry tears for his comrade.

 

“Beam, activated. Beam, charged. Target: Tal Ourouk. Target, locked. Beam, ready to fire.”

 

The pleasant computer voice enumerated the steps like a lullaby. Urban collapsed onto his back, his hand hovering over the ‘fire’ button.

 

We were on the verge of using one of the most devastating nuclear weapons ever.

 

A ghostly Espon whispered into his head, as Urban shook his head, trying to make him go away. The ghost persisted, moving Urban's hand away from the 'Fire' button with every word.

 

Many mutations are still better than a few deaths.

 

Julian’s voice then emanated from the opposite part of his mind. The two ghosts then commenced a war of words, splitting Urban’s conscience into two burning halves.

 

The Eurasians are forcing those mutations onto them.

 

You work for evil, for cruelty, for inhumanity.

 

Some of them even died as collateral damage from the Eurasians’ own rockets.

 

An army is useful for increasing your own power, whilst civilians help you in no way and instead eat your resources.

 

Urban clutched his head, shaking and trembling, from fear or from cold he did not know. His hand lingered above the red button, not knowing what to do.

 

I wonder if the inhabitants of London chose to be wiped out by an atomic bomb.

 

Today is the day the Eurasians fall.

 

Eradicate evil from this world. Do what you deem right.

 

Target: Tal Ourouk. Target, locked, Beam ready to fire.

 

Daddy! Daddy! Don’t go! Daddy!

 

I’ll wait for your return, love. Come back to me, please.

 

Finally, as hundreds and thousands of voices came into existence, his children, his wife, his friends, his soldiers, the Tals he killed, everyone spoke louder and louder, in attempt to make themselves heard over the growing tantrum. The result was an indescribable chaos, bits and pieces of words swallowed by the fire spreading all over his mind. He couldn't even tell if it was real or not anymore. His hand fell to his side, onto the cold snow, inanimate.

 

 

-

 

 

His eyes fluttered open as an electrical shock spread through his body. Groaning, he got up as he realized he was surrounded by Eurasians, all with guns pointed at him. A man in a general’s suit was kneeling down next to the Aurora Beam. The latter, upon realizing Urban had awaken, lifted his head, and Urban recognized the determination of Jonathan Lox.  

 

“Urban Decuel, you are under arrest for the murder of Espon Litz and Julian Boiller,” he said in a weary but expressionless tone.

 

Urban decided not to try to prove his innocence. He now knew that it wouldn't change anything. He stayed seated on the ice, an impassive stare directed towards his former boss.

 

“Urban Decuel, the Aurora Beam has been fired. The Tals have been defeated," Jonathan enumerated, not knowing that his words were like a sword stabbing through Urban. "We have won the war. You have no hope, so give us the blueprints of this weapon.”

 

Urban's mind worked overtime as he processed the overload of information. However, one phrase kept coming back. The war is over. Finally he spoke.

 

“Why do you want the blueprints? So the Eurasians can make more of it and use it to dominate every nation in the world? You fool. Do you what you have done? The Tals have been vanquished! There is now nothing in this world capable of stopping the Eurasians," Urban murmured, the words tasting sour on his frozen tongue

 

“Urban, give us the blueprints,” the General said, ignoring Urban's explanation.

 

The lone commander opened his mouth and pronounced a single word. “No.”

 

“Think again,” the General urged.

 

“I did, Jonathan. I have thought a lot. And I now know what is the real evil in this war. And I have made my decision. I won’t help you.”

 

“Decuel, enter the code, or I will be forced to use a truth serum on you. You know what it does to people. So enter the code. You have no other option.”

 

You have no other option. The General’s coaxing sounded so similar to Espon’s last words.

 

“You’re wrong. I do have another option,” he said, both to the imaginary Espon in his head and to the flesh-and-bone General standing in front of him. In a flash, he pulled out his handgun and pointed it at his own head.

 

“No!” The General screamed and lunged forward as the shot went off. The body fell to the ground, and the men saw that a primed grenade was clutched in Urban’s right hand.

 

“Everybody down!”

 

The explosion went off, as the dark waters once again surged upwards from its bed, engulfing everything in its path.

 

 

-

 

 

“General, we managed to recover the Aurora Beam. The Viking has also been extracted from the waters. No trace of Urban, however.”

 

“No matter. Send the Viking back to the mainland. We need to analyze it for any possible clues on what went wrong in this operation,” he dismissed the soldier as he turned to everyone else.

 

“Listen carefully, men. From now on, Operation Cold Victory has never happened. The defeat of the Tals was purely through good strategy and tactics. The Aurora Beam was never created. Urban, Espon and Julian were never born.”

 

“What will we say to the scientists when they see the Viking, sir? It’s covered in ice and water,” one soldier amongst the crowd pointed out.

 

“Say that it's a prototype covered in an experiment paint stolen from a secret lab no one knows about, and we need them to analyze the paint or something, it doesn’t matter. Remember, anything goes as long as no one knows about this mission’s catastrophe.”

 

“Catastrophe, sir? But the Aurora Beam worked! We eliminated the Tal!”

 

The General stared into the horizon, holding his right arm on the stump which was once his left arm, before it was taken away by the frozen waters called forth by Urban Decuel.

 

“Exactly.”

 

 

The End.

 

 

Storm

 

Sakura

 

Prodigi

 

Tiger

 

                                           

Edited January 7, 2018 by Hexed

[hogree 4,179]

Goooosebumps. Music makes it. Superb series!

[anuclearbomb 220]

love the idea of having music in the background although i only listened to the first bit because i have my own music.

grats' on ranking

[genak138 950]

I must say, the music made a great addition :D Although I couldn't finish the story because I was too busy trying to break down the music and seeing whether or not I could compose a French Horn duo or trio out of it :lol:

I'm weird like that B)

[BlazingCoder 108]

Music makes it more fun to read!

[Kevred 1,586]

I must say, the music made a great addition :D Although I couldn't finish the story because I was too busy trying to break down the music and seeing whether or not I could compose a French Horn duo or trio out of it :lol:

I'm weird like that B)

French Horn?

 

Yes, the music is awesomely out-of-this-world, no? Not surprised you got completely sucked up by it :P

[Lhamster 4,081]

seeing whether or not I could compose a French Horn duo or trio out of it :lol:

Good luck with that, the music is done with a full orchestra!

[genak138 950]

Good luck with that, the music is done with a full orchestra!

Yes, it sure sounds like it. Even if I don't manage to do it, it's nice to get an idea partway :)

[Yisroel.Rabin 16,224]

:LOL: The music gives it a good feeling.

[Extatic 68]

A very well done and written artical, informative, Interesting and followed with the awesome music, exciting. Good job!

Hoping to see more of this series in the follwoing Newspaper

Edited June 28, 2015 by Extatic

[mplush 0]

awosme

[mplush 0]

I would like to know what are we able to submit for? I was begining to write 

The Story Behind the Colors: Swash

Can I ? 

 

Here is a little bit of what i wrote

 

Entry #1: It has been 2 weeks since the last drop box. It has been hard to survive on this desert bare island. The last thing I remember before the crash was falling from the cargo plain. My tank is small and has no protection to the native tanks that i have encountered so far. It is not made for an actual battle, they are only made to use during target practice, my turret is what has been keeping me alive these past 2 weeks, it is a fully micro upgraded m2 smokey. It is the only battle worthy item on my tank that is useful. My m0 wasp and blue paint is useless to the natives, they have m1 mammoths and firebird and green paint. 

[Kevred 1,586]

:lol: The music gives it a good feeling.

Dun-dun-dan-dan-dundundundun....dan-dan... can't get it out of my head :P

 

Yes, it sure sounds like it. 

The orchestra:

 

 

 

 

 

I would like to know what are we able to submit for? I was begining to write 

The Story Behind the Colors: Swash

Can I ? 

 

I'm not sure what you're saying... :huh:

[aquafurgle1 95]

soo long.. swash iz bae paint doe. suits my name

[tankkipankki 72]

Great story <3 !! it was a bit long story, but very interesting :3  i would like to know the story behind the inferno colour :D

[Pallidium 17]

The Story Behind the Colors

A Tanki Online Original Series

 

The music made it feel like a movie! Awesome! Normally I would pass things like this up, but the music really made it entertaining! Kinda like a bait into the story.

[P_E_R_S_I_A_N 246]

amazing video amazing story 

[TriNitroToIuene 4,765]

Your best so far!

[anuclearbomb 220]

i would like to see a story behind the colours (Queen's english) for green or white or orange and all of em 

[Gunslinger300 45]

why do you like bloody stories?

[Penguin40 1,714]

will you stop making such weird stories? 

 

No, this was awesome. Good job Mr. Chicken. 

[applications_tanki 129]

I sTill duno what it is about but ok kev :) and u ranked

[Guest]

nice

[TriNitroToIuene 4,765]

Read it again, it sounds much better than before! 

 

One correction in your otherwise flawless story- 

 

 

 

Do you what you have done

 

Put a 'know' between the 'you' and the 'what'. Thanks

[greyat 2,972]

why do you like bloody stories?

Because he's Kev the Red, little known descendant of Erik the Red, with an unusual taste for blood and gore inherited from the Vikings.

Edited July 20, 2015 by greyat