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Thursday, April 21, 2005


  tracer: let the story go on

i'm includin the original snippet (massaging it a little for better flow) and expanding with more story - i'm re-including it cause i saw some stuff i didn't quite like the first time, but want to leave the original for historical purposes.

"Base Alpha, Report!" the transceiver squawked.
The seargent glared at the box. Every time he tried to reach Base, the damned trans would go out and he'd be stuck trying to bury himself in the mud just to keep bullets from skinning his nose. He slid the corporal's boot out of his way, earning the corporal a few more bullets. Pretty sure he wouldn't mind it though. It's not that hard to ignore the pain if your head isn't there. Damn mission had gone sour from the start.
Seargent Radcliff flicked the trans and reported "Tango Excursion Nogo, Determine Evac Route."
Radcliff listened for a few minutes and didn't hear a thing. Not even static. He thought back to before the mission when he double checked with the quartermaster that all his equipment was in tip top shape. He'd have checked it himself, but the damn brass said there wasn't time and he'd just have to trust the QM. Last time he was ever going to let the brass tell him how much time he had. He swore to himself that if he ever got back to Base Alpha, he would spend a little quality time thanking the quartermaster with his fists for the fine condition of his equipment. Hell, he might even invite the QM out for the next excursion.
Getting ready to try squirming back to the gully behind him for better cover, Radcliff noticed that something wasn't quite right. He strained with his senses to make out what it could be when it hit him. Or rather, it didn't hit him. There wasn't any noise. Not just a lack of gunfire, but that bush off to the left wasn't making a single pop as it burned to ash. That just ain't right. He started wondering if he was having another one of his episodes when the air around him started taking on a redish hue. Faint at first, it grew steadily brighter. The brighter it got the more it could be seen to start to shift through the visible spectrum right up through and out into the ultraviolet. That might have been okay if it wasn't for what he saw after that last bit of brilliant light had faded away. Walls. Four of them. He wasn't buried in the mud anymore either. He was lying comfortably on a nice smooth floor and getting it all muddy. Combat fatigue and confusion bore in on him like a mountain and smothered the last of his confused consciousness.

---

"Say John, you didn't happen to trans anything in the last twenty minutes or so have you?" a rather confused looking Ivan asked as he hunched over a console.
"No, why?" John shrugged.
"Well, we seem to have picked something up."
"Whadaya mean, 'seem to have picked something up'?"
"Just that, about twenty or so minutes ago something got transed in."
"Can't be, we didn't trans anything. Besides, we're out in the middle of the dead zone. Nothin' around for lights."
"You take a look at this then and tell me 'can't be'."
John walked over and took a peek at the console, shrugged, and started to walk away only to spin around and stare at the readout he had glanced over so casually.
"You've definitely got somethin'." John frowned in concentration. He didn't like this at all. They were out testing their newest scout ship, a supposedly top secret project, in the middle of nowhere and had somehow picked something up. Only one thing to do.


i'll have to think a little more about what else is goin to happen - again let me know if ya'll think it's worth it

tracer
 


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