Orwell

4/6/98 Supplies obtained. It was hot.

EPILOGUE It wasn't my first hanging. Even from before the war. I knew Hammond. He was a resourceful sergeant, someone who finished your sentences before you could. Eager, you could say. He managed to get his cadre of friends, about a squad's worth, to defect. They were meant to sneak aboard a resupply boat, but got compromised before they could board. They slipped the bag over his head, and tightened the noose around his thick neck. The floor comes out, and that snap of the rope going taut. I watched his boots swing from side to side. They still had mud on them from when he was caught. Hammond was lucky. My first hanging, the victim's neck didn't break. He struggled, dangling and kicking his legs about while he tried to take in air. We had to listen to him die for some of the longest two minutes of my life. I had been reintegrated, since Hathor. The 311th had been reduced to a fraction of itself, and had to be reformed. A lot of guys got moved around. Schwab got sent to a mental hospital, El-tee and Top bought in a dropship crash. The rest are either dead, or somewhere on the Coalition, Skinny, and Neon front. Things were becoming tense. I avoid FedNet, but I hear the calls to make the ultimate sacrifice for the Federation coming more frequently. The last time I was on leave I saw an assembly of veterans, wrapped around the recruitment office. Disfigured, scarred, and burned. Things were becoming more fortified. There were more drills, and more warships in the sky. It's becoming suffocating. There are some places you can get away from it, though. You just have to look hard enough. If you're ever on Sanctuary, visit the Copernicus Summit. It's remote enough that you can be reminded of what this place used to be before the war. The air is clean, and you won't see any corvettes, dropships, or TAC's in the sky. A bunch of transplanted conifers from Earth. I've never been, but some of the people I've asked say it's like the old forests of Europe. They reach high into the sky, and their branches provide ample shade. Alone in the woods, separated from the rest of the planet on this tiny undeveloped summit, you can more easily trick yourself to forget. At least for a little while. We're heading to Epsilon Prime tomorrow. This is the last night I'm here. It might be the last time I'm here. I looked up and watched the dying embers merge with the stars in the night sky.

25/5/98 A nice change of pace from photographing the field. This may as well have been a battlefield, considering how much damage the city took, and how many dead there were. Of the photos I took, these were the ones that were accepted. I think of all the bodies I've seen, I find the bloated corpses of the drowned to be some of the most unsettling. Despite extensive lessons, the thought of drowning still skeeves me up. I still remember when I was young, and I saw my first dead body. A tropical storm came at us outside of typhoon season. We were totally unprepared, and a lot of people ended up dying. I was with my friend, a few days after the storm passed. I thought it was debris, or trash at first. We moved closer, pushing through the knee-high water in our galloshes. We saw the wet back of his, her- I couldn't, and still can't tell- shirt, and the backpockets of their pants slip underneath the surface of the water where they floated, completely motionless. You could see the outline of their submerged body underneath the water, their legs dragging along the obscured pavement, looming over something hidden in the water. I forgot how I old I was.

[THE FOLLOWING IS AN AUDIO TRANSCRIPT FROM CONVERSATIONS BETWEEN FEDNET CORRESPONDENT PFC. DAVE FOSTER AND TSGT. JOSHUA EDWARDS, DATED MAY 12, 2298] DF: Right... Name and Rank? JE: Joshua David Edwards, tech-sergeant of the 13th marauder detachment. Assigned to the 112th. DF: ...Alright. Technical Sergeant Edwards, you've been enlisted for how long now? JE: Served for three years and four months. Two as a infantry man, one and four months as a marauder. DF: And where did you train as an infantryman? JE: Dartford Infantryman Academy, just south of London. DF: An earthling, then. JE: Yep, born and bred in England - Terra. DF: My condolences. JE: Its fine. DF: There's much easier, safer ways to achieve citizenship than service in Fleet or Mobile Infantry. What first brought you to the MI? Why this? JE: Family, most of the males in my close family. Being my father and brothers are enlisted so I kinda' followed in their footsteps, I also couldn't stand where I lived - wanted to see more of the galaxy than just the same streets for the rest of my life. DF: But you went beyond that. You not only became a marauder, you've become a technical sergeant. Are you shooting for career? JE: Yeah, after the fall from Terra and well - the lost of my father to Sanctuary. I decided to stick it, I pushed myself and climbed the ranks and well now I co-lead this Marauder detachment. Prehaps one day I may even lead my own, but that is still a far sight for me. DF: You enlisted prior to the Civil War, of course. But, the 13th is attached to arguably one of the most instrumental divisions involved in some of the heaviest fighting the war has seen. What do you make of this war, as a marauder? JE: Hmm- tough question. As much as every time myself or one of my troopers drop. We may kill hundreds of men, I know myself I do not enjoy killing fellow infantry no matter who they fight under. The quicker we get this finished the quicker we can face the real enemy, is what I say. DF: This is a personal question, and you don't have to answer. How many men do you think you've killed? JE: Hmm, in my time alone as a marauder or over my whole career? DF: Whole career. JE: Pre-maraudering, fifty, maybe less. After.... JE: In the thousands? DF: Thousands, you think? DF: Hm. JE: Mhm, I take no pride in any of them. DF: We're lucky to be a part of a very active component of the war against our new enemies who laid waste to Earth, but relatively few companies have come into contact with the 'Neons,' as they're called. How would you describe them to your fellow trooper? What makes them different from fighting an Arachnid, or a Skinny? JE: Hmm, they are as if an Arachnid tanker, skinny and an OSW operative had a three-way and some how made a baby. They are twice as strong as the average human - Hell, some are even stronger than the marauder suits. Their weaponary is one hundred percent more deadly in my opinion than anything else you can face... JE: Even in a marauder suit their weaponry ripped my leg clean off, at quite some range. At least with a bug it normally has to get close. DF: Yes, lots of stories about energy-based weapons from the front. JE: Looks wise, they are bit black and glow. Hence the nickname neons, they aren't like anything an average trooper will normally see so you'll know 'em when they see them - yeah, we had first hand experience on Terra. DF: You want to share the story of how you lost your leg? JE: Hmm, it's a bit shady but sure. We were tasked with collecting intel and data from a local MI fort before the neons got their hands on it but by the time we got there the neons were already on our tails. We pushed into the fort, went deeper than I can remember underground, collected the data and then on the way back up once we reached the surface, I came face to face with one of the larger versions of the neons, not sure what we call 'em. I think striders, or something? Hell, well it fired its cannon. Hitting my left thigh armor before the plasma melted through and took my leg off, as if I had let that round hit anyone else I would of probably sentenced them to death. DF: Indeed, not a whole lot of options for Medical once you get hit with something like that. Have you seen the Ark, their ship first-hand? JE: Yeah, the Grant was one of the first ships to ever face it, and at the time I was guarding the bridge in case of boarding parties. I witnessed it rip apart our fleets like they were nothing - then of cause when it attacked Terra again, I watched it destroy cities like they were nothing while we fled. DF: As a native, it must've been quite perturbing. JE: Hmm, I took into account that I heard that England was one of the final countries to fall so most of the populace had been evacuated including my mother, but yeah, seeing my home world, or well, humanity's homeworld burning was not a nice feeling. DF: The... attacks on the Sol system significantly more-than-halved humanity's population. The following civil war has already exceeded death tolls in the millions; how do you see the victor of this civil war facing off against the Neons? JE: Hm, I presume you read up on past wars as a journalist? so you would of heard of humanity's 'world wars'. JE: More point being, like in those. We'll be faced with a force that is going to be twice as strong as us and we'll have the defensive foot but with smarts and trust in each other. We can find a way to defeat them and save humanity. No matter the cost. JE: Not sure how we'll win, but I know there's always a way and a chance. DF: What's something you've found as surprising about the events of the Civil War so far? JE: Hmm, what a man is willing to do to another man just to live. DF: You have any specific examples in mind? JE: I will not name anyone but there has been a case, we had a prisoner. He didn't look no older then eighteen. Someone cut his throat as he begged for his life and left him to choke on his own blood - I put a bullet in his head as a mercy and I will not see that knowing I have friends and family like him. DF: Very rough times we live in. DF: How do you see the final confrontation with Sanctuary happening? JE: Indeed but I try my best to help where I can. Just tryna' do my part and finish this fight before more unneeded lost takes place. - with O'Brien hiding behind her desk probably about to take the coward's way out. DF: Hm. JE: ...As for the final battle - by then I'm not sure if sanctuary will have the forces to even make it a battle. DF: Assuming we win, and that we manage to repell the Neons, what do you see yourself doing after that? JE: Taking some leave, heading back to my old homestreet. Perhaps rebuild a little or help. Then continue my career, perhaps marry a lovely lady. DF: There'll certainly be a lot of rebuilding to be done. Anything you'd like to say your fellow troopers, fleet, and marauders scattered throughout the galaxy? JE: Just keep pushing on together, although you think its going very slow. In a blink of an eye everything will change and you'll be looking back on this time as if it was years ago. But most importantly to remember even though you are still fighting one another you are still brothers and sisters. You are not the reason this war started so do not be the reason for unneeded lost. JE: So to show each other the mutual respect we all deserve. DF: Anything you'd like to say to anyone in particular? JE: Nah, I won't embarrass anyone over the Fednet. DF: Alright. You want to wrap it up here? JE: If thats all the questions you got, sure. DF: I think we've got enough. Thanks for your time, Tech. [TRANSCRIPT END]

12/5/98 FedNet's accepting less and less of my shots nowadays. They decided on this one after the tattered corpse in the foreground was cropped out. Spilling blood on holy ground is something disdainful, but this place was far from holy.

4/5/98 Bug meteors.

more like hazukashii

Chuck Malone

29/4/98 We won. Negotiations to follow.

'They will flock to the colors, no doubt.' 28/4/98 I haven't seen combat like this since Shoreridge. Sanctuary's really been fighting tooth-and-nail for any victory they can get. We're meant to finish our job here tomorrow. Here's hoping that I make it through in one piece. Note: took more photographs, but it was incredibly dark. Not much ended up showing in the end.

24/4/98 Lots of bodies lately. Probably won't be accepted, but I sent them in anyways. Want to talk to this guy named Lou, seems like he'd have some interesting things to say.

dont do me like this

update

[THE FOLLOWING IS AN AUDIO TRANSCRIPT FROM CONVERSATIONS BETWEEN FEDNET CORRESPONDENT PVT. DAVE FOSTER AND SGT. NEIL PFEFFERBURG, DATED APRIL 7, 2298] The recording begins. The sound of life support systems and the bustling of hospital orderlies could be heard in the background. DF: Full name and rank for the record, if you would. NP: Neil Pfefferburg, Sergeant. DF: You've been in the MI for how long now? NP: I enlisted shortly after Operation Breadbasket. DF: Where do you hail from? NP: I was from the Seychelles, on Earth. DF: My condolences. NP: My family was lucky enough to be some of the first to get out. DF: You were in the Aeneas system, lately. NP: I was. Our company, Harrison's Hoplites, the 74th, have been making patrols along that stretch of space since Faraway fell. DF: We're sitting in a medical bay right now, in the Castus system. NP: Yeah. I've spent the last few hours in surgery getting bits of metal picked out of my back. DF: You were on Feronia when they first hit, yeah? NP: Yeah. We were stopping to lick our wounds after we got into a brush with their armada. Our barracks got blown out into space, along with any personal stuff you might've brought. For a lot of guys that was all they had. It's tough when you and your buddies' bedroom is in the line of fire. DF: I can imagine. NP: It was rough. We were hanging out, standing guard while technicians worked over our ship. Sirens were blaring- we'd finished clearing civilians out of Diedenhofen and Nuevo Potosí. When Sanctuary came, they were still movin' people out. Just nowhere near us. DF: How long did moving all those people take? NP: Hours. You've got cities with millions of people, and we're scrambling to try and make as many evacuation points as possible. Towards the end we were evacuating anybody and everybody until they were ghost towns. DF: Anybody stay behind? NP: God, I hope not. If they did, I don't know how they'd be alive. Sanctuary about damn near leveled Diedenhofen from what we heard, and gave Nuevo Potosí a proper beating. DF: Where were you when the attack started? NP: I was eating when we saw the first ships pop up. The sirens started up again, and before we had a chance to react the bombing started. DF: Is that when you got wounded? NP: Sort of. We lost our ship, which was a sitting duck on the ground. After that, I figured our fate was sealed. Being on the receiving end of an OB is a terrifying experience. Constantly hammering the ground, one after the other. A real saturation bombing. DF: Jeez. NP: Our company got split apart in the chaos. I managed to get inside a storm drain with some guys from our medical detachment. Had no idea where our RTO was, had no idea where our CO was. Lots of walking in the dark, shouting into our radios- constantly worrying if the next blast was gonna' send the earth above us collapsing down and bury us alive. DF: How'd you get out? NP: Eventually, we managed to get a hold of our CO. Our RTO bought it in the shelling, so she commandeered the LRR and tried to flag down anyone who was nearby to get us out. We were finally able to regroup in a shopping mall, with about half of our guys missing. The ones we couldn't find, we were forced to leave behind. It was awful. That's one of the worst things you can do as an Infantryman. DF: I see. NP: ...We had an insane pilot who actually flew through the bombardment to come get us. We owe our lives to that crazy flight lieutenant. When the boat was coming, that's when I got wounded. DF: How'd it happen? NP: An explosion tossed me into an alleyway, bursting my eardrum, setting me up with a concussion, and peppering me with a healthy dosage of foreign metals. Being bombed like that- feels like the ground underneath you gets blown apart- because it does, and you just get manhandled like a ragdoll by the tremendous force. I don't even know who loaded me into the dropship. DF: Sounds like you were very lucky. NP: That's a criminal understatement. It was a mad house. Infantrymen are meant to adapt to any and all situations; but being on the receiving end of an OB almost always leaves you on the run, or in hiding. And if it's the latter, you better pray to whatever God you believe in it's a good one. Those rods they drop from space are meant for bugs, a species much hardier than us. Even a marauder'd buy the farm if they got caught in one of those blasts. There's not much a single trooper can do against that kind of firepower from the ground. DF: You'll spend some time recuperating from your injuries here, but what do you plan on doing next? NP: Once I'm cleared for combat, I'll be going back with the Hoplites, and Captain Harrison. Those Sanctuary bastards took the lives of good men and women, and destroyed the ship we called home, along with its staff. Despite appearances, I'm eager to let those bastards know what happens when you screw the Hoplites, let alone the Coalition. DF: It goes without saying that FedNet wishes you a swift recovery and all the best in your company's future endeavors. Do you have anything else you'd like to say before we wrap up? NP: Yeah. I want to say that I hope we go back to Feronia. If there's anybody from the 74th still alive down there, they belong back with us. We've been having to write too many letters to next-of-kin. Next time, I'm gonna make sure we show Sanctuary how much we suffered, thrice-fold. DF: Indeed. Thanks for your time, Sergeant. [TRANSCRIPT END]

thick gothic mothers hit my characters up please

The Laptev System's central binary star. The system of Laptev came under swift attack yesterday by an armada of Sanctuary warships near the Coalition-Sanctuary border. A star system of three planets; only one of which is habitable, came under fire, and then invasion by Sanctuary forces. The planet Okhotsk II has a very small population, mostly comprised of Mobile Infantry and Fleet personnel. The planet is home to several sizable resupply centers vital to Coalition fleets patrolling the long stretches of border between us, and the enemy. The men and women of Fleet and the Mobile Infantry fought hard, but were no match for the tremendous firepower and speed possessed by the Sanctuary fleet. Twelve hours ago, the last bastion of Coalition forces centered on the Okhotsk II's southern pole surrendered, and broadcast that the planet was now under control by Sanctuary. Evacuation and mobilization efforts are already underway in several nearby systems, with fleets from Castus doubling down on security while reinforcements arrive from Faraway and Hesperus. A Corvette was lost in the initial attack, the AFC-BC229 Cincinnatus, staffed with over 3,500 personnel, managed to buy time for nearby Coalition warships to retreat to safety while managing to transport a fraction of their staff to the nearby hospital ship the AFC-HC428 Clara Barton. We managed to get onboard the Clara Barton, (now safe in the orbit of Iskander) and talked to some of the people who were there, like Lance Corporal Ian Cheng. Crowded transport ships await to transfer the remnants of the Cincinnatus to be reassembled to fight again. Here, MI, Fleet, and Military Intelligence mingle, in a state of shock. The majority of the personnel were caught off guard once the attack began, with casualties estimated to be approximately 3,500 killed, with hundreds wounded. "It was crazy. Alarms, sirens, the works. We kept watchin' more and more ships pop up out the bay windows, an' we started to look around at each other like, "this is it." I don't think any of us expected us to make it, but- thanks to Captain Montez, we did." Lance Corporal Cheng was in the Cincinnatus' mess hall when the attack began. He speaks of the ship's captain, Aurelio Montez, who went down with his ship after the attack began. "When everyone else was freakin' out, Captain Montez kept his head. He managed to get as many of us as he could into boats- our only hope bein' the Clara Barton. I never knew him personally, but I'm indebted to him. We all are. Without him, Sanctuary might've gotten more than just the Cincinnatus. I owe him my life." Captain Montez was one of the 3,500 whose lives were lost yesterday at the hands of Sanctuary. The atmosphere in the Clara Barton is one of remorse, remembrance, and trepidation. Military intelligence has issued a statement that they are taking swift defensive measures to counter the threat to the Coalition, and that they wish to maintain a sense of discretion regarding the positioning of their defensive fleets. Here in the Clara Barton, troopers of the 323nd Moritas await to be reassigned to combat-ready battalion. The company's CO, Lt. Elizabeth Webster, was also among the 3,500 killed on the Cincinnatus. The hospital beds are packed with men and women who witnessed firsthand the unbridled ferocity of Sanctuary's war machine, and they're eager to return the favor. Troopers like Lance Corporal Ian Cheng, who says, "Those bastards took the lives of some of the finest men and women I've ever served with. There'll be hell to pay for this- no doubt." WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE?

update

i havent met that nigga

INFORMATION First Name: Charles Middle Name: Cedrick Last Name: Malone Age (yo): 28 Date of Birth: 21/12/2271 Nationality: Kamchatka Station (Arne) Place of Birth: Kamchatka Station Maternity Ward Rank: Private Status: ALIVE Physical Description: A swarthy looking man with brown hair and a clean-shaven face. He's slightly shredded, with scars scoring his body. Looks like he repossesses cars, or collects protection money for someone. Malone stands somewhat taller above the average man at around 6'3''. RELATIONSHIPS FUCK YOU - COOL - GUY - SHMUCK - FUCK YOU Squires - Saved my ass. Because of that I'm in this mess in the first place. Guy's got some baggage from this war that's being fought. Got his mind fucked by Skinnies. Good guy, useful in a fight. Sorrentino - This guy laid it on the line pretty bluntly for me. One of the nicer things about him. He can talk to a whole lot of different people, and level with them. I can see the dark streak he's got, though. Knows more than he's letting on. Wonder what he did before MI? Meridian - Needs a fist in his face. I can help. Kittel - Like most women, utterly useless. Would've been shot in my previous line of work for acting the way they did. Simo - Gave me a cigarette. Kind of emotional, but, he seems alright for now. Finch - Pretty good Corporal. Butcher - Tried to cut my dick off and nearly did, nearly cut my hand in half, nearly made me into mince meat. Never happened thanks to the MI. I'll kick your face in if I see you in hell. O'Neill - Helped me get out of the station with Squires. He can come across as restricting, sometimes goody-goody, but when his blood is pumping I can tell what he really'd like to do the guys shooting at us. Does a decent job of keeping things together. /Seems/ self-righteous. Would've been a problem working with someone like that back in the day. I think his head got hijacked or something. Had to carry him to spook central. York - Would look better if he shaved his face clean. Nicely proportioned. A bit on the older side, but I can deal with that. Wonder how he does in a fight? Will look into. Col. Davidson - Never met him. Seems like a jackass. Probably tied to a desk instead of out with his men. 2Lt. Liebermann - Typical 'classified' spook. Refused to tell me what exactly the reason was as to why I was carrying my NCO to spook central. The last thing I want to do is put someone in a cell, especially if it's someone who helped save my ass in the past. The clowns who used to keep their crews in the dark always wound up getting their wig split because what they ended up doing was never good for anyone. Fuck you, Lieutenant. Larsen - This guy seems like a transplant from my line of work. Same demeanor, same sense of might makes right, same lack of scruples. Man's stacked, solid, and most dangerously, hair-trigger temper. People seem to fear him, but I've seen his type before. The ones who kept theirs in line with lots of violence, and lots of threats. They always seemed to go overboard, and ended up getting shot by the guys they'd been smacking around for so long. Have to wait and see. Young - A man pushed out of his home, adopted by the Infantry, and dealt a bad hand by the war. An interesting story, this one. I believe we'll get along. Knoxx - Like most women, useless, and lacks a sense of when to stop talking. She moans about being taped to a wall upside down. Most other people would've slapped the shit out of her, like anybody else in the MI would. As a matter of fact, she slugged a mug at my head when I let her know how I felt about her punishment, and I got the chance to repay the favor with my fists. If she stays out of my way we won't have anymore problems. Krauw - Brown-nosing cunt. Might wind up getting smacked if he doesn't mind himself. Stevens - Waste of space. Needs to stop breathing the same air as the rest of us.

never in my years has this thought crossed my mind

does dag raske like hannah montana

upd8

to arms, brothers

add steven shortski