- OOC:
- Totally non-canon
Bacredi was sitting in his Cepany manor, which was in the middle of the plains of Cepany’s eastern continent. The room he was sitting in – the Plain Office – was Bacredi’s main office. Outside of the room were two guards, and under Bacredi’s desk was a “Lucky Strike” shotgun and shells. Suddenly, the head of the guard, Captain Chamberlyn, walked in.
“Sir, we are moving the shifts to twenty minute patrols, every thirty minutes.” Chamberlyn said to Bacredi. Mark Chamberlyn had been Bacredi’s friend for awhile. Bacredi knew that Chamberlyn had an un-silence IvP-Tropov Machine Pistol in his shoulder holster.
“Why so?” Bacredi queried.
“A large social retreat near our location just got massacred. Supposedly a small guard contingent there drew unknown fire fifty minutes ago and was killed within minutes. We have been informed by radio-contact that we overheard.” Chamberlyn explained to Bacredi, Bacredi nodded.
“I hear you. Are the starfighters ready to launch?” Bacredi asked.
“Sorry, sir, but the fog has stopped any starfighter use that could be useful.”
“Damn, anyway, inform me of any other notices.” Bacredi dismissed Chamberlyn and went back to working.
-- -- -- -- --Gregory Marks and Gill Pez both walked through the garden and out into the open air. They were both members of the wing guard. They were both patrolling the area around the manor.
“What is up with these patrol dates?” Pez asked Marks. Marks shrugged and continued, Marks then hooked up his ear-com. They both walked for about twenty more minutes before turning around to retrace their steps. “Well, that was pointless.”
“GET DOWN!” Marks screamed as he took out his silenced Mynock Q33 Slugthrower. Two shots from an assault rifle peppered Pez and Marks fired multiple shots at the attackers. Fifteen came from the left, fifteen from the right, ten more from behind. Marks quickly attempted to report it in as he fired one more time. His gun jammed as he tried to fire again. He slowly put his weapon in the air as two more shots fired at him. He was dead.
Five minutes later, Captain Chamberlyn heard about the missing guards. “Sir, Pez and Marks have not returned. They should have checked in by now, I can’t reach their coms.”
“Ah, shit. Get me to the West Wing chief!” Chamberlyn screamed.
“He’s on the line, sir.”
“Thanks.” Chamberlyn put the com to his ear. “Chief, this is Captain Chamberlyn. Do you have any birds ready to air?” The com rang back.
“Yes, sir. Just give me two minutes to ready the crew.”
“Fair enough. I need you to encircle Pez, tracker code 98, and Marks, tracker code 68’s last known position.” Chamberlyn wanted them to circle the area that Mark and Pez had been reached via their tracking braslits.
“God it. Crew will hurry.”
It took two minutes and then the bird was in the air. The shuttle flew towards the last known position and slowly began to report back findings. “Nothing yet, nothing now, no bodies at all, nothing are here. Do you think they got lost?”
“They would never of gotten lost. You mind landing the bird and searching the area?”
“Sure, pilot, bring us down.” The chief said. Suddenly, the chief’s voice rang back. “Sir! We’re being painted!” Being ‘painted’ was a pilot term for having a missile locked onto them. This was not good. Suddenly, the receptionist next to Chamberlyn spoke up.
“Sir, we have reports of blaster and rifle fire at the east entrance.”
“Shit, send three teams over there! Secure every other entrance, I want everyone geared up into rifles and body armor.” The receptionist nodded and Chamberlyn ran into Bacredi’s office. Bacredi stood up slowly.
“I heard the com chatter. Were do you need me?” Bacredi asked.
“They are probably here for your possessions or a way off of this planet. They are close to the East Hangar. I already have security teams closing the steel doors.” Chamberlyn responded. “We believe that they are going to be in the east garden room. If we can stop them there, we might be able to well… cut them off.”
“I hear you. Let me gear up, get our MOMAGs ready.” Bacredi took out his Lucky Strike shotgun from under the desk. He moved over to his cabinet, opened it with his key, and saw his M1 LMG “Tyrant” Chaingun, he loaded it and cocked it. He then put on his body armor.
“Got it, my men are distracting them at the east entrance. They haven’t made it far. Close to one hundred of them, tanks and the lot. We are loading VnD-10Ms and VnS-10 Scyllas to the east garden room. “Oh shit, my guards had to pull back and close sublevel doors. The main doors do not have steel coating therefore it is moot to close them.”
“I hear you,” Bacredi threw Chamberlyn his shotgun. “Lead me to them.” Chamberlyn led Bacredi to the east garden room. The east garden room had close to three turrets and four grenade launchers. All the guards were armed with chainguns and long range rifles. No fire had been exchanged yet due to the fact that the guards were clearing out all of the other rooms. The air guard was being scrambled and the
Bedford being brought down from space.
“Sir, targets spotted.” A guard with a long-range chaingun whispered to Chamberlyn.
“All yours.” Chamberlyn sipped his coffee as he was still in the line of fire.
“Thank you.” The man peered through the scope and rested the chaingun on a plant, he then pulled the trigger. The man on the other side of the room hit the ground, not dead or hit – he was still alive. “Shit! Shell ‘em!”
