The scorching hot sun made the three massive space transports seem like mirages as the hot air rose from the expanded soil, distorting view. The transports opened their frontal gates, leaving their noses up in the air while three heavy-load trucks emerged from the opening, hauling one Bear-class and two Tiger-class Mekas, connected to all kinds of power supply cords, ammo feeders, and data cables, fueling up and getting ready for battle.
The generator that fed the sleeping tents, which lined up like giant white igloos, emulating blisters on the face of the red desert, made an incessant, deafening, high-pitched noise, and filled the place with a nasty smell of ashes, creating a charming setting in the windless desert created by UV-rays after the “death” of the ozone layer.
“I hate this place”, said an ungainly soldier, sitting on the hood of a light recon vehicle while lighting a cigarette. “Even if I can smoke as much as I want to”, he concluded, inhaling deeply on his cigarette and watching the horizon while holding the smoke in his lungs.
“Oh, but I love it”, responded sarcastically the thin woman seating next to him on the hood of the vehicle, visibly uncomfortable. “Why’d you have to mess with the Minister’s daughter?”, and now furious, “Now we gotta baby sit these boy scouts”.
The “boy scouts” were a group of no less than fifty tactical recognizance scientists who, as the soldiers spoke, worked on preparing the camp: raising tents, installing internal atmosphere filters, checking atmospheric fluctuation meters, and preparing the defense material brought in on the heavy-load trucks. In the meantime, brother and sister argued about their fate, sitting on the recon-vehicle, next to a container with a bar code that read something like “latrine seat protectors”, very appropriate for their present state of mind.
“Oh, stop it. At least it’ll be quiet around here”, said the brother, as the smoke he puffed out of his lungs joined the smoke from the generator, which would not stop making that annoying noise that ringed in his ears.
“I don’t think so. The Hive and the Confederation are deploying camps already”, she replied while turning frantically, trying to find the source of the noise that seemed to come at her from every direction, and showing the horrible scar that some previous fight had left on her face.
The noise came from a huge, inefficient and dirty hydro-electric genesis generator, connected to a large water duct which took putrid water from a nearby well, converted it into hydrogen, and then into energy to feed the camp. As residues were poured again into the well, they left behind smoke and a nauseating smell that penetrated even the highest grade gas masks.
“Cat”, said the brother as he jumped off the hood of the vehicle, looking towards the horizon beyond the cloud of smoke, the sickening smell, and the noise of the generator, “there’s something out there, and if we play our cards well, we could keep it to ourselves.”
“I know that, Vulture”, she answered, “but first we need to take care of a couple of problems”. As she said this, she took the rifle that hung from the seat of the vehicle and took one blind shot towards the campsite.
They couldn’t completely restore the site’s energy for two whole days, until new transports came in, but while the generator was being repaired, there was total silence.
The generator that fed the sleeping tents, which lined up like giant white igloos, emulating blisters on the face of the red desert, made an incessant, deafening, high-pitched noise, and filled the place with a nasty smell of ashes, creating a charming setting in the windless desert created by UV-rays after the “death” of the ozone layer.
“I hate this place”, said an ungainly soldier, sitting on the hood of a light recon vehicle while lighting a cigarette. “Even if I can smoke as much as I want to”, he concluded, inhaling deeply on his cigarette and watching the horizon while holding the smoke in his lungs.
“Oh, but I love it”, responded sarcastically the thin woman seating next to him on the hood of the vehicle, visibly uncomfortable. “Why’d you have to mess with the Minister’s daughter?”, and now furious, “Now we gotta baby sit these boy scouts”.
The “boy scouts” were a group of no less than fifty tactical recognizance scientists who, as the soldiers spoke, worked on preparing the camp: raising tents, installing internal atmosphere filters, checking atmospheric fluctuation meters, and preparing the defense material brought in on the heavy-load trucks. In the meantime, brother and sister argued about their fate, sitting on the recon-vehicle, next to a container with a bar code that read something like “latrine seat protectors”, very appropriate for their present state of mind.
“Oh, stop it. At least it’ll be quiet around here”, said the brother, as the smoke he puffed out of his lungs joined the smoke from the generator, which would not stop making that annoying noise that ringed in his ears.
“I don’t think so. The Hive and the Confederation are deploying camps already”, she replied while turning frantically, trying to find the source of the noise that seemed to come at her from every direction, and showing the horrible scar that some previous fight had left on her face.
The noise came from a huge, inefficient and dirty hydro-electric genesis generator, connected to a large water duct which took putrid water from a nearby well, converted it into hydrogen, and then into energy to feed the camp. As residues were poured again into the well, they left behind smoke and a nauseating smell that penetrated even the highest grade gas masks.
“Cat”, said the brother as he jumped off the hood of the vehicle, looking towards the horizon beyond the cloud of smoke, the sickening smell, and the noise of the generator, “there’s something out there, and if we play our cards well, we could keep it to ourselves.”
“I know that, Vulture”, she answered, “but first we need to take care of a couple of problems”. As she said this, she took the rifle that hung from the seat of the vehicle and took one blind shot towards the campsite.
They couldn’t completely restore the site’s energy for two whole days, until new transports came in, but while the generator was being repaired, there was total silence.
