The Forgotten Wars

Chapter One: Remembering

BOOM!!!!

The explosion echoed through the desolate landscape, and minutes later, debris fell from the sky like grey rain. The downpour intensified, until it was finally replaced with a slick black substance, thick and viscous to the touch. It carried on falling until, at last, its source dried up. More debris kept falling, but all attention was drawn to the sound of gunshots, resonating like thunder high above the ground, as if Gods were fighting amongst themselves. Breaking through the streak of ash colored clouds, a ship fell like a comet, half of its hull aflame. It tried in vain to stay airborne, but like a wounded animal, it couldn’t manage more than to cry out as it fell from the sky. Crashing to earth with an impossible speed, the sound of metal upon metal could be heard as the ship torn itself apart upon landing. If there had been a pilot, he would have doubtlessly been killed, torn apart by the very ship they had commanded. For a while it was silent, the only sound emanating from the clouds high above.

But again, the sound of metal upon metal could be heard, the ship struggling to fall upon its side. Creaking could be heard as the vessel fell victim to the laws of gravity, at last falling lengthways. But instead of silencing reining again, the door to the ship popped open, falling off as soon as it finished moving. Out of the broken ship, a man dragged his battered and bruised body out into the open, using his arms to pull himself forwards. Clearing his body from the ship, the man tried to clamber to his feet, but as soon as he managed to get his body upright, a mixture of blood and vomit came spewing out of his mouth, spraying the ground around him, mixing with the black oil. Wiping his mouth with the remains of his shirt, the man suddenly looked up, a look of recognition on his face. Turning round, he began crawling again, dragging his limp body threw the oil and debris without looking back.

Hours later, and the limp form of the man was still moving, albeit incredibly slowly. His face was covered now in a mixture of dirt and sweat, cuts adorning his damaged limbs. What had remained of his shirt had now completely disappeared, leaving his bare muscular chest open to the elements. The nausea, lack of blood and energy was slowly shutting down his system down, trying to force him to stop, and peacefully let go of life. Only his will to live kept him going, and the fear of what was following him. Cresting the hill he had been climbing for the past hour, the man looked upon a sight that had not been witnessed in years. In the distance, set among the grey lifeless hills, was a quarry. Not a sound could be heard, the ancient machines of the past were silent, but still, the smell of earth and clay hung faintly in the air.

A smile would have crossed the man’s lips, if it weren’t for the sound of footsteps from behind him. On instinct, he rolled to the side, just as the sound of gunshots escaped into the air. The earth around the man erupted as bullets passed him. The man knew he was done for, the last of his energy had just been used up, and he couldn’t have gotten away even if he had the use of his legs. His breathing ragged and uneven, he watched as his killer approached, a gun in hand.

“You had your fun Nyle, now its time for the last remnants of Armgron to be swept away, to make way for the might of Rewan,” the figure shouted. Moving forward into the light, he revealed himself.

“If I am supposed to be the last remnants, what does that make you, scum?” Nyle wheezed. The soldier already knew he was going to die, it was just a matter of seconds and if it was going be from the gun or exhaustion. As he thought about dying, the faint memories of his life flashed through his eyes…

Two years earlier…

Platoon after platoon stormed into the mess hall, all eager for the clear tasteless slime that they called food. Letting himself be swept along by the others, Nyle smiled as he was carried to the front of the queue. Grabbing a spoon and a small silver bowl, the soldier extended it forward as he reached the serving people, men dressed in the same attire as Nyle, all with large hoses packed between their arms. Spraying the gunk into the bowl, the man grunted, gesturing for him to go. Sticking his spoon into the transparent mess, Nyle began walking towards a table, taking a seat at the head of it. But as soon as he touched the chair, cheers erupted around him.

“Here he is ladies and gentlemen, the man of the hour! 1875, how does it feel to be the first soldier to take a glance upon the Rewan bomber hangar, and then blow it up with no more than one gun?” a man shouted to his left shouted. A smile crossing his face, the soldier gestured for them to sit down.

“Did you tell the entire platoon, Nyke?” Nyle mumbled.

“No, just one half, and then they went on to tell the other half,” the other soldier laughed, patting Nyle’s back. Shaking his head, he began shoveling the slime into his mouth, oblivious to the taste that would have made any other person vomit.

“How can you stand that stuff, its disgusting!”

Looking round, the soldier saw that a woman clad in nothing more than a pair of tight fitting trousers and a silver bullet proof chest-plate was watching him. She was carrying a similar bowl of food, but a much smaller portion compared to Nyle’s. Dropping the victuals onto the table, she dropped into the seat on Nyle’s right.

“Well, for one its keeps us from dehydrating, starving, going mad, getting any illness, and in some cases, dying,” the soldier muttered, finishing off his food with one last spoonful.

“Yet, we don’t even have stomachs, and this slime just slides down our gullets without us even caring,” the woman replied skeptically, poking a finger into the mess. Sighing, Nyle was about to reply when he thought better of it. Leaning back on his chair, he felt a strange feeling building in the pit of his…whatever replaced his stomach. The sound of static filled the entire room, and instantly, every single person was at their feet, all talk forgotten. Screens placed conveniently around the hall burst into life, and the image of two men appeared.

“Alpha wishes to speak to his noble troops.”

One of the men stepped forward, his face filling the entire screen. Scars adorned his features, and a harsh look to match went with them.

“My soldiers, my warriors, today is a great day in Armgron history, a day that will be remembered for years to come. Soldier 185, head of Platoon 00427, struck a crippling blow against our red clad nemesis, Rewan. He will hopefully inspire the rest of you to do great things.”

As if he could see through the screen, Alpha looked directly at Nyle. Again, the entire mess hall erupted in applause and cheers, with a few people whistling as well. Holding his hands in the air, the soldier saluted the screen, watching as Alpha saluted him back. The screen flickered off, and the soldiers sat back down, and the sound of talking filled the air once more.

In the name of Dracula, continue this science-fiction, or I shall inflict the mind-shattering curse of Agamenon upon your sleeping form, in the dead of night, while your breathing serves only as the rhythmic song of your lightly heaving chest. That is when I will strike, and then, I will give you the warrior's honor by leaving your remains at the gates of your father's keep, as well as a little present from yours truly...*cackles* Something that would serve to combust your weeping paternity as he cradles your ruined yet somehow recognizable form.

Interesting. The BA needs a good sceince fiction, and I think this is just perfect. I look forward to more, Mr. Angel.

Not sure if I am supposed to post here.. but might aswell.

*claps*

Nice you could expand on that story in so many ways, not to be all commanding and stuff but you could show glimspes even futher back in his past then some more closer to the present.

It looks good though!