Harmonica music wailed in my ears, the soft sound of bowl acids assailed our tiny cacoon. “go fish” one of the people said beside me “and will you quit the music!” he added. You might be wondering, where are we? Why am I stuck with friends playing go-fish and listening to cliche harmonica music? Well it all happened 3 days ago.....
Chapter 1: The Mission
“God dammit Rosco!”...... “don’t you start with me!”........ “I’ll start with you anytime I like!”......
The sounds of the argument echoed out into the tundra back at our tiny outpost.
“If you hadn’t missed that shot we would have nailed those bandits!”
one of them yelled,
a katana in one hand ready to strike. That was Wess..... A reformed prisoner who always carried a katana, we never had the guts to ask why. Of course that isn’t his only weapon, he carries a modded Guass rifle with red-dot sight and armor piercing rounds. Wess could get through tooth and nail, get home and still have enough energy to wrestle a pack of lyotes.
“I wasn’t the one who ran right in there with that oversized toothpick!”
the other one replied.
Rosco, the best shot this side of the fringe world. He’s the womanizer of the group but the only thing he every keeps in his bed for more than 1 night is his trusty commando model C-20 sniper rifle.
“There they are going at it again”
Someone mumbled beside me.
Ross was the veteran of the group, he lost his arms in the brood war days and had em replaced with perdition flame throwers, not even Wess has the guts to mess with him. But because of his amputations he never takes off his suit. I finally mustered the guts to step between the 2
“Guys lets just calm down and think about this for a second”.
Of course there’s me, the combat medic. I suddenly realized how stupid I had been. If these 2 start a brawl all I had to defend myself was a combat shield and plasma pistol.
relief flooded through me as I got backup from the veteran.
“I know being stuck on Melgan wasn’t the ideal way of spending your life serving as marines but we have to get used to this tundra world and the tiny outpost we live in”
Wess and Rosco relented, both going back into their dorm rooms mumbling insults and other profanity. Just another day in the life of squad A-230-B, or as we like to call it the life of the royally f*cked.......