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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1481392-The-End-of-the-Introduction
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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1481392
Universe 2 spirals into the Pirate age from the Introduction
The end of the introduction came with a click, the hammering hitting the metal casing of the bullet and a bang, the gunpowder exploding. The bullet traveled along the coils of the coil gun quickly, having force added to it through magnetism. It broke the sound barrier inside the barrel of the gun as it traveled towards its target. It flew across the space, little air left on the plant but enough gravity to assure the fall of the bullet if it wasn’t aimed right. It flew true though, as the small little lizard-man named High Marshal Thunder Rain took information from a double-agent human. Both wore re-breathers, what little air remaining in the atmosphere was toxic. The bullet was unseen as it traveled the kilometer to its target. It struck the target in the side of the head, sending him flying to the dirt and almost taking off his head. Lucky for him he felt none of the pain; he was dead the bullet hit.

As for the assassin who fired the bullet, he stayed a moment to register a kill before picking up his long gauss rifle. He was going to dismantle it, until he saw a gravity helicopter appear in the window of the concrete ruin he was using as a lookout post. Split second reaction let him fire a shot into the pilots face. The glass was too little to stop the powerful bullet at this range and the assassin himself was a marksman and sniper without equal. The body slumping over the controls sent the copter into a collision course with the building as the gunner tried to regain control. Slipping his hand down to the carry bar of his gun, he ran towards the other edge of the building, his lookout following him towards the edge.

He jumped off the building just as the copter started to slam through the ancient concrete, it still having effect on the rotor-less helicopter. He watched his lookout follow before grabbing the hand of the lookout and activating the gravity parachute to slow them down before hitting the ground. Touching the gray dirt of the world, he looked over to make sure the lookout was okay too. He gave him a curt nod before going on all fours. Not because he was hurt, but because he was more naturally a quadruped then a biped. The assassin may have been human, but his lookout wasn’t. However, there was little time for pleasantries as the now incredibly damaged copter came out the other side of the building, flying wobbly do to the damage; however none the less ready to fire it hidden under side minigun at them.



“Come on!” Yelled the assassin as he started off, sending the lookout in a scamper beside him as they ran in their power suits. It gave them the speed advantage they needed to get some visual cover from the concrete buildings. The coil gun minigun wouldn’t find much to stop it in ancient concrete, but best not to waste bullets. At least, that was a smart idea until the assassin returned fire by shooting a shot through the gunner’s window since it was still flying low. With both guys inside gone and the body slumping causing the control stick to fly off to the side and hit the ground. It slid into a building and that’s where it stays for now. The assassin was already off running to his pick-up point. He wouldn’t have long until the entire area was swarming with small lizard men looking for revenge. Who better then a guy in a black suit and a giant rifle?

The assassin switched on his radio and began speaking, “This is Pounder S, register Mothra.” He hoped his pick up craft was still hiding happily in the planet’s small moon’s dark side. Not a desiccated corpse left by some angry lizard people. That would be bad for him AND that mole that he saw on his radar was coming up fast. The lookout had his long ears perked for anybody who was hanging a little too close around. Even with amps, Alex’s lookout still had the better ears.

“This is Mothra. We’re picking up you and Nuum Runner. We’re downloading locations into your headsets now. The flyer will get you there. ETA three minutes,” Mothra radioed down after a few moments. The assassin breathed a sigh of relief but didn’t allow himself the laugh that he’d have accompanied it. It would reveal his position if he too much sound. The position wasn’t far, near a spire in the open park. Well, what USED to be a park. Now it was just dead, gray dirt with cracked concrete paths in it.

The assassin heard the wind sweep through the confines of the dead city before jumping over the wall to the park, some sad attempt to keep noise and pollution out. Alex just saw gray dirt, sloping here and there and bridges showing where water once was. He waited a second for his lookout to make it over before sprinting out towards the spire. He took a position near it as the mole came rushing over. Carrying a full length coil-gun assault rifle, he looked rather ready to fight, except he was wearing a business suit and a just a re-breather as protection.

His lookout laughed when he saw it, unable to restrain it until the assassin shushed him. That shut him up quick. The mole did not look amused and took up cover near the spire. “Hope this thing doesn’t fall,” the mole says quietly to his new partners.

“It will,” was the assassin’s only reply as he kneeled and readied his rifle to take down attackers. The lookout lacked ranged weapons, but could tell when the enemies were coming from far more then sight. This was their advantage, but it was a curse to have so little cover like this. The concrete may or may not stop the bullets from the infantry guns, but other then it, the only other cover was to hide under a bridge and that could be a death sentence.

“I smell lizzies,” came the lookouts warning, him going prone down into the ground, smelling the filtered air. It only took out toxins, so the lookout could tell things from it. “Front,” was his second quip, his simple intelligence not providing him with a good vocabulary or grammar.

“Okay, you focus on keeping their heads down. I’ll take them off,” the assasin’s words were to his partners, looking down the scope just as a black stealth ship floated in front of them. A human waved to them to come on in. Alex looked as if he dropped his rifle, but only to move it down to the grip and ran towards the helicopter. He jumped over the spire’s base, following his lookout and looking back to see the mole right behind him. Stepping onto the craft, he sat down and strapped down, ready for the blast off as soon as the last man strapped in. The doors closed and the assassin felt a jerk of gees as the craft lifted off the ground and started towards the area above the atmosphere. Unfortunately, something struck the craft and caused it to rock in flight. The pilot started cursing as he tried to maneuver his craft. The assassin felt it nose dive as the pilot watched an acrology grow closer in his view.

“I’m going to take some of those…” the pilot’s final words was cut short as an advanced alloy found its way a little too close to his head; his days of flying were over at the very least. The behind compartment left four groaning occupants, the assassin the first to gain sense of reality as he looked around. He shook his lookout, making him utter a few bits of nonsense before readying himself. The mole and the trooper brought along shook themselves into sense before they prepped to jump ship and use a ship from the acrology to escape. The assassin mashed the button on the craft, letting the bottom ramp try to move down. In reality, it fell off and slid out into oblivion. The assassin gripped the side of the craft hard and looked around the corner, since stepping straight out would mean death. However, there was a firm hallway to the each side of the craft. Alex swung his body out and around with his hands on the lip and landed on the firm hallway instead of the ramped one carved by their ship.

“Come on. Swing around and land over here,” the assassin told them as he readied himself to catch anyone who missed. His lookout was next and he landed just fine. The mole came next, almost missing the target if not for the assistance of the assassin. The soldier did the maneuver deftly, landing firmly on the safe ground. With this, they started out to the star port on this city. The four knew they had to move quickly as this place would try to lockdown soon with all the toxic gases coming in from outside. This would not be a pleasant day for their inhabitants.

“Think this will really result in peace after THIS?” the soldier tried the other two. They just nodded yes to their less informed companion as they ran. No soldiers were around, just civilians screaming at the screaming of alarms. Those lizard-men might have a warrior heritage, but warriors don’t fight toxic gases. As for the sound itself, it was deafening. All of them were glad for sound dampers for the moment, except the mole of course, as they dashed around the corridor with the label star port pointing that direction.

Then they saw the crowd of civilians in front of them, not looking at all very friendly to four very strange aliens interrupting their panic and run. They turned around, all of them, and stared at the invaders. Then a call went up from the crowd, “They let the toxins in here!” And the swarm of bodies came towards them.

“Time to get out of here,” came the sharp cry from one of their group as they switched directions and ran. As well equipped as they were, that crowd would be a little much. The soldier dropped a flash bang behind him as they took off. All of them had to hurry to escape the crowd’s wrath even with the slow down device. When they came to the scar left by the transport craft, all of them made running leap across. With some luck and some augmentation, all of them made it across the gap and kept running. The lizard men simply climbed on the walls to get around. Many of them had started to die on the spot from the toxic gas seeping in there, quickly reducing their advance’s speed.

The group didn’t have time to slow down as the crowd fell behind, losing too many to toxic gas now. Now the security control had issued a lockdown, which it was proclaiming loudly wherever there was a PA speaker installed. None of them liked the idea of getting locked out of the star port, so they followed the signs quickly but carefully. It was rather easy when your suit can take nanosecond photos of what you need. “More exciting than I thought this would be,” the soldier quipped as they dashed down the last corridor towards the space port; straight towards a closing blast door. The first one got under it without difficulty; the next had to bend his head. The lookout dashed under it easily and the soldier slid under it into the sealed spaceport now.

“How many civies you think are in here after we sent those some to their doom?” the soldier poked at the mole, him understanding the culture and their antics best.

“Plenty,” was the mole’s reply while the assassin checked the large doors into the star port. Plenty of civilians crowded the floor of the star port, but no more were coming in now. The assassin pulled his head back and gestured with it for them to start going. The mole and soldier nodded, while the lookout just followed. The assassin was last, covering them from the high ground as they walked to an elevator on the catwalk the door led to. It was a large catwalk, with a number of lizard men on it. They were too flustered to seem to notice the aliens now, most of them were on benches with eyes shut in frustration. Regardless, the elevator was reached without much fanfare and taken down with even smaller amount. When they reached the ground floor, they stared out onto the ground to look for a craft. Most were preparing to head out, and most were too small for any of them to stand in.

There was an exception sitting very near to them though. Its pilot walked onto the vessel, almost looking bored during this emergency. It was large and bulky, meant for bulk transport obviously enough. They dashed across the floor of the space port. The ramp wasn’t even closing when they banged their feet or paws against it and came up in the pilot’s cockpit. It was large enough for them, just large enough. The mole put his gun against the pilot’s head, causing the man to flinch. He may be unafraid of toxic gases, but guns were a different matter. “You help us, we don’t kill you. If you don’t help us, we kill you and take the craft from you. Got a deal?” The mole told him in a calm manner. This caused even more dread from the pilot. He must have partaken of a very small share of this “warrior heritage” that everyone hears about of the small lizard men.

The soldier thought it was too easy, so he checked the window to the cargo hold. It was brimming with eggs; lizard eggs in incubators. “Get the ramp up, now. We’ve got to go,” The soldier proclaimed, feeling that they had been seen. Plus he thought these things were ripe for hatching. Last thing they needed was about a thousand new-born lizards trying to kill them. The pilot did as commanded, letting his craft get off the ground and go towards the port outside. It had a seal that could be penetrated by solids, but not gases; selective energized filter as it was called. Their flight now was a little less eventful from the last one that they had just gone through. In one of the crafts of the lizard men, it was not the target of many “ground to space” rockets.

The pilot would have sweated on the entire way up if he could have done so. Instead he just shivered madly under the gun-point of the mole and his instructions. “Dark side of the Jondular moon,” He told him in a voice of command. The pilot shivered, but he didn’t flinch as he guided his craft out of the atmosphere and around the moon, looking like he might faint at any moment. He doesn’t and lands his craft peacefully next to the large human one on the surface.

“Mothra, this is a friendly craft. Pounder S and Nuum Runner are onboard. Please open,” the assassin said into his comm. unit. The craft’s blast doors on its docking port slowly opened.

“Understood Pounder S. Taking you onboard,” came the reply as those doors slid open, revealing the gaping inside of the dock of the Mothra. The pilot understood enough to take off the surface of the moon and fly inside. Upon landing, he was knocked out with a pinch on a nerve. The mole slammed the button to let the ramp down and there it was, the mission was succeeded. This was the end of the Introduction era, soon to bring new and more massive wars then these men had dreamed of. This was going to be a temporary peace, but, perhaps one that had led this galaxy on the path to salvation, despite the future ahead of them.



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