McKagan
29-06-2005, 04:04
Outside Territorial Waters, Universal Empire, 0300 Hours
Deep inside the amphibious assault ship several Marines set in a circle.
"So, a zombie virus eh? Not seen one of those in a LONG time." the Leiutenant said while checking the optical sighting system on an older production run CX-3 rifle.
"Right, the only thing with this is that it's human made. That means it has to have a cure, we hope, it's not as perfect as the last one unless it's mutated. That's why we've got to stop it when it get's out if we want to save the country." the Colonel in Command of what would soon be a 25 man evacuation unit said in a firm voice as he glanced down the long, dark deck at the vehicles and crates of weapons.
The Marine's were talking about the new current events.
A rogue terrorist organization had taken a bio-agent from a laboratory and modified it and then mass produced enough of it to do considerate damage.
"The virus is spread through direct fluid contact. Meaning unless you're bitten, or screw a zombie, you're not going to be infected. From the test we conducted on the tribe's of Haleia, we know the faggots can run faster than a Down's," refering to one of the zombie-proof variants of the Marine's APC's.
"Once infected, death occurs depending on the proximity of the bite to a major organ or vain, reanimation within 5 minutes tells us that once someone goes down you either frag the bastard or run like hell from the rest of them." The Colonel continued.
Breaking into the conversation, Lieutenant Strouth, the youngest officer in the team was apparently nervous. "Just how many are on that island?"
Colonel Aaron suddenly broke his jolly, rambo like attitude and took a more panicked voice. "They bombarded a city with the agent. That means 10-20 million at least. The problem is that now they've spread out through the rest of the country. The home military can't hold them alone and we're being sent to evacuate everyone to the 2nd island off the southern coast. SEAL's from the sub's will link up with us after we make beachhead and we'll start in clean sweep operations."
The 27th Tactical Wing, a special unit that had been used in this situation before asides from it's normal function as an Air Cavalry party, had a special variant on their APC's that made them the perfect balance. to keep from being turned over. Combined with the weapons systems, a small city could be liberated; and, if called upon, the units could be airlifted into an existing military instalation to keep it from being overran.
Aboard the Weiland Class Attack Sub, RMV Contraband, a more realistic military conversation had taken place between the CO and the special complement of 12 Navy SEAL's that were to take the beach.
The SEAL's all picked up their weapons, including 8 CX-3 Carbine's and 4 CX-2 heavy weapons.
Walking down the small coridor it would appear they were somewhat happy at the fact they were getting off the small overcrowded ship they were on, but the truth was, they were all terrified at what they had saw last time this happened.
"Ok, pressure tube locked. Launch us."
"Good luck." the operations officer said while feeling the tube up with water and allowing the SEAL's to exit.
At the drydock at the rear of the sub, a small ruberboat loaded with ammunition floated loose to assist the SEAL's.
Walking up to the beach inside a small bay, the SEAL's watched as other ships in the fleet fired their main guns onto the beach. The zombies soon followed.
Covered in blood, one member of the SEAL's team was automatically jumped upon for being too far up the beach.
As his teammate provided covering fire as his best friend was devoured the team began falling back into the water to avoid being overran, and to allow the naval guns and aircraft to launch their attacks.
Deep inside the amphibious assault ship several Marines set in a circle.
"So, a zombie virus eh? Not seen one of those in a LONG time." the Leiutenant said while checking the optical sighting system on an older production run CX-3 rifle.
"Right, the only thing with this is that it's human made. That means it has to have a cure, we hope, it's not as perfect as the last one unless it's mutated. That's why we've got to stop it when it get's out if we want to save the country." the Colonel in Command of what would soon be a 25 man evacuation unit said in a firm voice as he glanced down the long, dark deck at the vehicles and crates of weapons.
The Marine's were talking about the new current events.
A rogue terrorist organization had taken a bio-agent from a laboratory and modified it and then mass produced enough of it to do considerate damage.
"The virus is spread through direct fluid contact. Meaning unless you're bitten, or screw a zombie, you're not going to be infected. From the test we conducted on the tribe's of Haleia, we know the faggots can run faster than a Down's," refering to one of the zombie-proof variants of the Marine's APC's.
"Once infected, death occurs depending on the proximity of the bite to a major organ or vain, reanimation within 5 minutes tells us that once someone goes down you either frag the bastard or run like hell from the rest of them." The Colonel continued.
Breaking into the conversation, Lieutenant Strouth, the youngest officer in the team was apparently nervous. "Just how many are on that island?"
Colonel Aaron suddenly broke his jolly, rambo like attitude and took a more panicked voice. "They bombarded a city with the agent. That means 10-20 million at least. The problem is that now they've spread out through the rest of the country. The home military can't hold them alone and we're being sent to evacuate everyone to the 2nd island off the southern coast. SEAL's from the sub's will link up with us after we make beachhead and we'll start in clean sweep operations."
The 27th Tactical Wing, a special unit that had been used in this situation before asides from it's normal function as an Air Cavalry party, had a special variant on their APC's that made them the perfect balance. to keep from being turned over. Combined with the weapons systems, a small city could be liberated; and, if called upon, the units could be airlifted into an existing military instalation to keep it from being overran.
Aboard the Weiland Class Attack Sub, RMV Contraband, a more realistic military conversation had taken place between the CO and the special complement of 12 Navy SEAL's that were to take the beach.
The SEAL's all picked up their weapons, including 8 CX-3 Carbine's and 4 CX-2 heavy weapons.
Walking down the small coridor it would appear they were somewhat happy at the fact they were getting off the small overcrowded ship they were on, but the truth was, they were all terrified at what they had saw last time this happened.
"Ok, pressure tube locked. Launch us."
"Good luck." the operations officer said while feeling the tube up with water and allowing the SEAL's to exit.
At the drydock at the rear of the sub, a small ruberboat loaded with ammunition floated loose to assist the SEAL's.
Walking up to the beach inside a small bay, the SEAL's watched as other ships in the fleet fired their main guns onto the beach. The zombies soon followed.
Covered in blood, one member of the SEAL's team was automatically jumped upon for being too far up the beach.
As his teammate provided covering fire as his best friend was devoured the team began falling back into the water to avoid being overran, and to allow the naval guns and aircraft to launch their attacks.