Lately, I’ve been playing some browser-based strategy card games, like Warstorm and Planetstorm. Pretty interesting, because they focus almost entirely on the strategic and logistical aspects of forming armies that can fight effectively, but don’t give you any control over the tactical aspects of actually controlling them on the battlefield. In any case, I was inspired to write some short stories as fanfiction, just on the spur of the moment and to practise my rather rusty writing skills. This story is set in Planetstorm’s grim, hard-edged military sci-fi world, featuring characters and soldier names from the cards used in the game.
Read the first part after the break.
Planetstorm: Prisoner of War
Disclaimer: Planetstorm and all related intellectual properties rights belong to Challenge Games Inc. This fanfiction is written for leisure and non-profit purposes only.
Episode 0 – Prologue
I stood shivering in the cold north wind, clad only in a loincloth and chained hand-and-foot to the guy in front of me. We were at the end of a long line of prisoners slowly shuffling out of the troop transport and into the military base, where we were to be processed for military service.
Military service, hah.
The judge had been very clear when he handed down the sentence at my trial – 15 years of service in the armed forces for the Kollective, or imprisonment for life. Except that they had no more jail space since the Koleika Prison got bombed by the machines, so they would probably just throw me into a cell and then shoot me.
Technically, I would have been imprisoned for life – however short that was.
So naturally, I had “volunteered” for military service instead. Which resulted in a jerky ride in a battered transport out to the Ash Wastes, where new units of the People’s Militia were to be formed. The moment we had entered the base, however, the Machines launched an aerial attack on the fortifications. An explosion shook the trenches, and I instinctively cringed. Many other prisoners were also cowering in fear, some blubbering and refusing to move another step.
“Oh please…” I heard the guy in front of me whispering. “Oh please oh please oh please…” He was squatting down with his hands over his head, and flinched as the sound of gunfire roared out of the trenches. A machinegun started to whine, and was rewarded with a distant explosion and cheering that signalled the destruction of the aerial scout.
“Get up! Get a move on, you!” a burly soldier with a mean expression went down the line, kicking and hauling the cowering prisoners to their feet. Most of them started to stumble onwards, blinded by terror. “You can shit in your pants later, when you actually got some.” He aimed a particularly vicious kick at the guy in front of me. “MOVE, I said!”
I heard a crack as the boot connected with the guy’s ribcage, and then the prisoner went berserk. He lunged out of the squat with his arms outstretched for the guard’s neck. My left arm and leg, which were still chained to him, were nearly yanked out of their sockets. His eyes were bulging and his throat were making horrible gargling sounds, like he was strangling except that there was no obvious cause.
The soldier was caught off-guard, and gave a shout as he was knocked down by the prisoner’s tackle. They both dragged me down with them as they struggled on the ground, trying to reach for the army knife tucked into the soldier’s belt.
BLAM!
A shot rang out, startlingly close, and the prisoner’s head was blown to smithereens. Bits of his face and other unnameable objects flew in all directions, splattering me all over with blood and gunk. I turned around and saw her for the first time.
A brown-haired woman, pale as a ghost and with an eyepatch covering her left eye, dressed in tan military fatigues and a brown cloak. She lowered the huge pistol she was carrying and holstered it before striding over to where the fallen guard still lay on the ground in bemusement. Everyone seemed to be in shock, because the world seemed unnaturally silent to me.
It’s amazing how some people can leave such a strong first impression on you. I would never forget my first sight of General Danova, or the feeling I got at the moment – a heady mix of fear, terror and sheer awe. She looked like one of the ancient gods of humankind, come down to earth to smite anyone who stood in her path. I was torn between an impulse to run away screaming or lie down flat in hopes she wouldn’t notice me. In the end, I did nothing.
She strode up to where the twitching body of the prisoner lay on the ground and drew her army knife. With a grunt, she severed the arm and leg which were still chained to the rest of us, and then handed the limbs to the soldier, who was just shakily starting to get to his feet.
“Private, you will carry these limbs in line with the rest of the prisoners until they are released from their chains,” she said, in a clear and commanding voice. “Perhaps this will help you remember not to show unnecessary abuse to people who will soon become your fellow soldiers,” she added softly, before turning around to face us and raising her voice again. “As for the rest of you, let this be a warning. The armed forces of the Kollective will not tolerate cowardice or rebellion. If any of you breaks under fire like this man did, he will be shot like the mad dog he is.”
“Now move.”
She didn’t even have to raise her voice for that last line. We all quietly shuffled along into the processing office without a word of protest. The private marched stiffly in front of me, back straight and face forward as he carried the arm and leg that was chained. She watched us go, arms folded and her mouth set in a grim line. Beyond her, the other soldiers manning the fortifications also watched silently, mercilessly.
I shivered again, but not due to the cold north wind. I was truly in the army now.
To be continued…
Leave a Reply