Eredron
01-07-2005, 15:37
The black glittered maliciously against the light, an omen of doom. It was greeted with silenced horror, hatred, terror, a harbinger of death that fell upon them with venomous eager.
"Ace of Spades, suckers," the petty officer said in his sickly voice, a wheezing tone that contrasted sharply with his bulky frame and rough appearance. With a short grunt, he leaned forward and collected the pile of loose change, wrinkled Marks and various trinkets which had been growing steadily through the night.
He stuffed the wads of Marks and jewelry into his pocket with a meaty hand, smirking in response to the circle of frowns and unmasked anger his crewmembers directed toward him.
It was fast approaching 2 o'clock in the morning, according to the local Pacific time; the metallic click of the digital clocks would soon signal their fourth hour of gambling. Sitting under the harsh lights of the recreation hall, the mens' foreheads glistened with sweat; for many of them, a significant chunk of their paychecks had just disappeared into the petty officer's pocket, with a mere sixty minutes left for them to make it back.
The next round began with the sharp shuffling of the deck, which, tradition dictated, had to be shuffled and then ceremoniously tapped with a smooth golden globe, a fragment of a dud shell that had hit the E.S.S. Morning Glory six years ago.
With the air thick with anticipation, anxiety and fear, the round began.
---
His cigarette burned brightly, its glow intensifying and dissipating with each puff. The moonlight glinted off the barrel of his gun, resting against the guardrail at his side, before its cratered face disappeared behind a vast expanse of deep purple clouds that spread out to the east. Occasionally, he spotted a lit window from the distant port, whose normally robust night life had been subdued in the wake of a series of military restrictions.
In the distance he heard the dull whine of an engine, carried to him on the night breeze. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was four minutes past two. The incoming supply craft was behind schedule. The engine whine grew louder as the small craft neared the carrier; he could just barely spot it in the darkness. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he walked along the rail to the nearest light, and flicked it on; after a moment's delay, a thick beam of light cut through the darkness. He swung the probing light to the right until it fell onto the incoming raft: a hovercraft normally used in amphibious landings, it was one of several dozen tasked with bringing cargo to and from the port, along with sailors enjoying their R&R.
Stacks of crates filled the deck of the ship, with thick ropes stretched taught in a crisscrossing web. A half dozen men walked in and out of the shadows, looking at the blinding light and then at each other; after a moment's hesitation, two of them waved their arms as a sign of recognition.
He lowered the light as they came within a hundred meters of the carrier, walking back to notify the loading crews. The sound of the craft's engines grew louder, its rumble heavy in the air.
A series of loud cracks could be heard, muffled by the engine roar; two, three, four spotlights had lit up, their hazy beams cast out across the bow of the ship, zeroeing in on the incoming landing craft. A loudspeaker erupted:
"Incoming craft, you are ordered to adjust course one-eight-zero degrees. Shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded."
But it was too late; the landing craft, already a few dozen meters away from the carrier, put on a burst of speed, shooting forward even as a hail of gunfire fell upon it from a dozen guards on the carrier.
With a number of crew still on-shore, the carrier reacted slowly, drowsily rousing itself from sleep. Klaxons rang out like banshee wails, a short-lived cry from a doomed ship.
The spotlights illuminated a grisly scene, as two bodies fell from the ship into the calm ocean, their bodies torn and tattered; the landing craft sped forward, taking no note of the damage being inflicted upon it.
And then hell itself broke loose.
The landing craft hit the side of the carrier like a fly hitting a window, its appearance made diminutive in comparison to the carrier's behemoth proportions.
----
The last card in the discarded deck of a now forgotten game fluttered off the table as the first explosion rocked the Morning Glory; it was followed quickly by a second, then a final third: much larger, one that would engulf the entire ship.
A burning orb surrounded the carrier, lighting up the night sky like a fireworks display. The sound of shouting and sirens mixed with the cracks of emergency flares and the explosions spreading from the landing craft.
The low-grade, shoddy nuclear device enclosed amongst the conventional explosives had performed suitably to the job; a poor attempt at a dirty bomb, it had nevertheless served to augment the attack's power, leaving the carrier a hideous wreck of its former self; huge gashes and ruptures had appeared at the point of impact, leaving the carrier to fight futilely for survival, even as it was destroyed by its own munitions.
Helicopters and aircraft inbound from the carrier's distant escort were soon overhead, albeit holding their distance from the plumes of smoke and fire rising from the carrier as it succumbed to its wounds. The sea glittered crimson; the fire reflecting off the water gave the impression of a sea of blood into which the carrier was slowly disappearing as it took on water.
"Ace of Spades, suckers," the petty officer said in his sickly voice, a wheezing tone that contrasted sharply with his bulky frame and rough appearance. With a short grunt, he leaned forward and collected the pile of loose change, wrinkled Marks and various trinkets which had been growing steadily through the night.
He stuffed the wads of Marks and jewelry into his pocket with a meaty hand, smirking in response to the circle of frowns and unmasked anger his crewmembers directed toward him.
It was fast approaching 2 o'clock in the morning, according to the local Pacific time; the metallic click of the digital clocks would soon signal their fourth hour of gambling. Sitting under the harsh lights of the recreation hall, the mens' foreheads glistened with sweat; for many of them, a significant chunk of their paychecks had just disappeared into the petty officer's pocket, with a mere sixty minutes left for them to make it back.
The next round began with the sharp shuffling of the deck, which, tradition dictated, had to be shuffled and then ceremoniously tapped with a smooth golden globe, a fragment of a dud shell that had hit the E.S.S. Morning Glory six years ago.
With the air thick with anticipation, anxiety and fear, the round began.
---
His cigarette burned brightly, its glow intensifying and dissipating with each puff. The moonlight glinted off the barrel of his gun, resting against the guardrail at his side, before its cratered face disappeared behind a vast expanse of deep purple clouds that spread out to the east. Occasionally, he spotted a lit window from the distant port, whose normally robust night life had been subdued in the wake of a series of military restrictions.
In the distance he heard the dull whine of an engine, carried to him on the night breeze. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was four minutes past two. The incoming supply craft was behind schedule. The engine whine grew louder as the small craft neared the carrier; he could just barely spot it in the darkness. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he walked along the rail to the nearest light, and flicked it on; after a moment's delay, a thick beam of light cut through the darkness. He swung the probing light to the right until it fell onto the incoming raft: a hovercraft normally used in amphibious landings, it was one of several dozen tasked with bringing cargo to and from the port, along with sailors enjoying their R&R.
Stacks of crates filled the deck of the ship, with thick ropes stretched taught in a crisscrossing web. A half dozen men walked in and out of the shadows, looking at the blinding light and then at each other; after a moment's hesitation, two of them waved their arms as a sign of recognition.
He lowered the light as they came within a hundred meters of the carrier, walking back to notify the loading crews. The sound of the craft's engines grew louder, its rumble heavy in the air.
A series of loud cracks could be heard, muffled by the engine roar; two, three, four spotlights had lit up, their hazy beams cast out across the bow of the ship, zeroeing in on the incoming landing craft. A loudspeaker erupted:
"Incoming craft, you are ordered to adjust course one-eight-zero degrees. Shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded."
But it was too late; the landing craft, already a few dozen meters away from the carrier, put on a burst of speed, shooting forward even as a hail of gunfire fell upon it from a dozen guards on the carrier.
With a number of crew still on-shore, the carrier reacted slowly, drowsily rousing itself from sleep. Klaxons rang out like banshee wails, a short-lived cry from a doomed ship.
The spotlights illuminated a grisly scene, as two bodies fell from the ship into the calm ocean, their bodies torn and tattered; the landing craft sped forward, taking no note of the damage being inflicted upon it.
And then hell itself broke loose.
The landing craft hit the side of the carrier like a fly hitting a window, its appearance made diminutive in comparison to the carrier's behemoth proportions.
----
The last card in the discarded deck of a now forgotten game fluttered off the table as the first explosion rocked the Morning Glory; it was followed quickly by a second, then a final third: much larger, one that would engulf the entire ship.
A burning orb surrounded the carrier, lighting up the night sky like a fireworks display. The sound of shouting and sirens mixed with the cracks of emergency flares and the explosions spreading from the landing craft.
The low-grade, shoddy nuclear device enclosed amongst the conventional explosives had performed suitably to the job; a poor attempt at a dirty bomb, it had nevertheless served to augment the attack's power, leaving the carrier a hideous wreck of its former self; huge gashes and ruptures had appeared at the point of impact, leaving the carrier to fight futilely for survival, even as it was destroyed by its own munitions.
Helicopters and aircraft inbound from the carrier's distant escort were soon overhead, albeit holding their distance from the plumes of smoke and fire rising from the carrier as it succumbed to its wounds. The sea glittered crimson; the fire reflecting off the water gave the impression of a sea of blood into which the carrier was slowly disappearing as it took on water.