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#1 default Mother-Ship


Author notes: I wrote this for an english assignment. It hasn't been edited by my teacher yet but will be soon (♫ printed in the magazine!♫). Personally I think this is a 8/10 story for me (like, what I expect me to write, not how I judge other peoples stuff). I like it and I hope you will too. Enjoy!
P.S. I like using A6 in my stories. Repetition much?

Fire and metal rained from the sky as if hell itself had opened. The frosty ground was hidden beneath the wreckage of a N.A.F mother-ship which was already starting to freeze after only a few minutes of exposure to the bitter cold.
A6 lay semi-conscious sprawled across the ice covered grass dreaming of a warm day; he had only vague memories of the hot sun from his childhood, before the ice had spread. At the dawn of the 23rd century, the world had suddenly become a giant snow globe with super-blizzards subjecting Earth to its sixth major ice age.
K3’s moan of pain crackled through the radio, indicating that he too was alive.
Struggling to his knees, A6 pressed a button on the side of his helmet and spoke carefully into the com.
“Squad sound off.”
After a minute or so, K3 replied with difficulty, “K3 here.”
No-one else of the 5 man team had survived. Considering what they had just done, the numbers were pretty good. But ‘pretty good’ didn’t cover the lives of three elite soldiers.
“K3,” commanded A6 “signal your position.”
Even now standing up, the world was disorientating with the sky as clear and white as the snow laden ground. The only difference between the two was the cold burning carcass of a giant machine.
A green flare rose up into the air, indicating the location of K3. The snow crunched under his feet as he worked his way towards the source of the signal.
After about three minutes, A6 arrived at the location where his squad member should be. Instead he found a pile of twisted metal two metres high. He shouted into the depths of the tangle of metal.
“K3, are you there?”
No reply.
A6 looked around for the source of the sound until he realized it was coming from his wrist. No, wait. It was coming from one of the five small electrocardiograms on his wrist. Three of them were black and blank. One was depicting a healthy heart beat. The last one showed a straight green line and emitted a long tone.
A6 turned away from K3’s grave and stumbled numbly forwards until he fell against a charred sheet of titanium alloy which had survived the destruction. The world had suddenly become dull and empty.
He was the last one alive. A6 realised that all those soldiers, even the forty support troops, had meant more to him than he thought. He had led them to their deaths. The soldier part of him was screaming.
“This is a war,” it said “people die. Stop moping about and get it together! You’re in a danger zone here!” But still he gazed at the screens, exhausted, and relived the terrible fates of his comrades.

X4, the first screen.
Their squad, 6T, had been launched aboard the N.A.F mother-ship from ground-to-air carrier pods in the dead of night. They’d landed silently on the flight decks of the mother-ship and crept quietly towards the guard towers, taking cover behind parked air-craft. But unknown to 6T, the odds were already against them; the N.A.F troops were prepared for the attack. Just as they left the protection of a fighter craft, machine guns opened fire upon the team from the towers, forcing them back.
A6 had quickly realised that there was no way they could pull the mission off alone.
“Send in the support units in!”
Almost at once forty single-man carrier pods rose into the air and landed heavily around the flight deck, splitting open to reveal heavily armed support troops.
“Support, cover us!” A6 shouted over the radio, “6T follow closely!”
N.A.F soldiers poured out of the base of the towers, weapons blazing, and engaged the support troops while the team ran through the raging battle, dodging bullets and fallen bodies.
A6 knew that sound.
X4’s head flung backwards and his body crumpled to the ground. The projectile had speared through his visor and out the other side.
A few of the team slowed.
“Leave him,” commanded A6, “We have a mission to do.”

B9, the second screen.
6T ran down a long hallway which opened up into a gigantic cargo hold. Metal crates were stacked several metres high but were still far from touching the top of the room. Rows of boxes extended for two hundred metres or so.
A6 looked around, compact rifle raised, expecting N.A.F soldiers to jump out in ambush. There was no-one there.
“Check the fifth aisle on the left. There should be a door there.”
“Should?” questioned B9.
“Yes, should.”
“What about a will?”
“Shut up. You’re rear-guard”
B9 shuffled to the back of the line.
K3 looked around. “Careful, there’s something wrong here.”
A giant metal crate crashed down not five metres from B9.
They looked up.
The towers of stacked crates were falling like dominoes.
“Get to the door!”
6T dashed madly towards the fifth aisle, about sixty metres away.
Gigantic metal containers crashed around them, the soldier’s inches away from death.
D2 looked up.
Someone grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to the side.
“Watch your step!” shouted A6, letting go of D2 as a crate embedded itself in the floor where D2 had been milliseconds ago.
Amid the deafening noise of the crates, they heard gunfire from behind them.
A6 glanced back for a second.
There were N.A.F soldiers firing from the doorway that led to the flight deck. B9 was on the floor, being torn apart by bullets. He was looking at his team, arm reaching out for the help that would never arrive. Then a two tonne crate crushed down on B9, entombing him.
And like that, it was over.

The snowfall was clearing up now. The white clouds had moved away, revealing the black night sky which was covered with stars.


D2, the third screen.
They had arrived at their target. It had taken them an hour to reach the engine, located in the middle of the mother-ship, without raising the alarm. 6T set charges around the vital parts of the engine and then snuck quietly out of the engine room.
A6 whispered over the radio, “We’ll need to get off the ship before we detonate it.”
D2 and K3 nodded, another hour of stealth up ahead.
They crept down deserted hallways and ducked away into cover when enemies approached.
Forty minutes later they arrived at a long corridor which was devoid of any obstacles.
“We get the elevator here,” said A6 pointing at a large door.
They silently made their way to the elevator doors which were situated in the middle of the corridor.
D2 punched a code into the control panel. Nothing happened.
“The security code’s changed!”
K3 took out his multi-tool and started fiddling with the panel.
“Then they know we’re here.”
Footsteps echoed down from the previous corridor.
K3 worked faster at the panel.
A6 and D2 raised their compact rifles.
The footfalls were getting louder.
“Nearly done,” said K3.
A N.A.F guard came around the corner….
…and had a bullet nailed through his head.
The gunfire attracted the rest of the guards like moths to a candle-light. They got too close, and burned.
They opened fire on the guards as the rushed to the corridor, killing them instantly.
“Door’s open! Get in!”
A6 turned around and was tackled into the elevator by a guard that had snuck up to them. He kneed the guard in the gut and K3 threw the man off him. A6 looked up and was kicked hard in the chin, his helmet stopping his neck from breaking.
The door of the elevator closed. There were three guards in it along with D2, K3 and himself.
Everyone paused to glare at each other as the elevator rose, and then broke out into a brawl.
A6 ducked under a swing and elbowed the guard in the stomach who then grabbed A6 in a headlock.
The guard dropped him to the floor before he could wriggle out and followed it up by kicking him in the side.
A6 grabbed the guards’ legs and tripped him, dodging a kick and aimed to punch at the guard but missed, leaving a dent in the wall.
Just as the guard stumbled to his feet A6 spun around and kicked the guard across the head, knocking him to the floor.
The others had finished dealing with their guards.
“I didn’t know you could spinny kick,” said K3.
The elevator had reached the top floor.
“What the-?”
Looking down at the detonator on his arm, A6 saw that it had activated during the fight.
“Get off the ship!” shouted A6.
Explosions echoed around the airship, making the floor shake.
They were running again.
Dashing down corridors, left, right, left around corners. It would take roughly 30 seconds for the ship to explode.
As they sprinted down a metal hallway a guard attempted to stop them. A6 twisted the gun out of his hand and flipped the guard over his shoulder, all in one fluid movement.
A6 checked his timer.
20 seconds left, 100 metres to go.
6T skidded around a bend and jumped down a flight of stairs, knocking some surprised soldiers out of the way.
10 seconds left, 55 metres to go.
A6 looked at his timer. The floor was shaking like an earthquake. They would never make it.
5 seconds left, 25 metres to go.
They were on the second flight deck. They just needed to get to the end of it. A6 could feel the floor of the flight deck shake and tremble and heard explosions closing in on them.
When they reached the end of the flight deck they leapt off the side of the ship, thousands of metres above the ground, and not a moment too soon. The flight deck exploded, fuelled by the gas pipes beneath the floor, sending debris and shrapnel flying through the air like bullets.
A6 and K3 were hurled another fifteen metres through the sky by the spontaneous combustion of the deck.
But D2 had jumped too late and had been consumed by the fire.

They had rocketed through the air head first at over four hundred kilometres per hour. Fragments of the mother-ship fell around them in the snow white sky.
A6 felt his leg get uncomfortably warm but put it off as heat from friction against the air.
“Watch out!” K3 radioed in.
Peering upwards, A6 saw that his right leg had been set alight by one of the flaming debris.
He reverted to streamline position, hoping to reach the snow on the ground before he was completely ablaze.
The flames quickly spread further down his leg.
Soon half his body was blazing.
A device on his shoulder started beeping. Time to open the parachute. A6 ignored it, he would be roasted by the time he hit the ground. K3 followed suit and didn’t open his parachute.
The fog covered ground was getting closer.
“Now!” shouted A6 as he released his parachute. K3 complied and they started to slow down.
Fifty metres above ground, a chunk of metal tore through K3’s parachute. The parachute started to tear open.
K3 looked up at his broken lifeline and cried out as he dropped through the air and disappeared into the mist. A6 was desperately trying to stop his parachute from burning up. His efforts, he realised, were futile. The fire burnt through the canopy of his chute and had left A6 helpless as he fell to the earth covered in flames.

K3’s screen was now blank.
A6 looked up at the sky. He decided that the memories of this place were to be left behind and trouble him no longer. He took off the electrocardiograms and placed them in the snow, facing up, and left just as the rosy fingers of dawn reached out across the sky.

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