Erlind
Armitage
- Joined
- Mar 23, 2006
- Posts
- 4,050
*This thread is closed for IndigoNova*
The skies had turned red. Most of the people left were slaves either in mines or on plantations. Humanity had never stood a chance. The invaders had bombarded us from orbit with energy weapons we had no way to defend against. Our farmlands were irradiated, our defenses crippled, and we didn’t even have any way to strike back against them until so many of us were scattered and dead that it didn’t matter. They never spoke to us, but the message was clear. Earth was now their home.
Still, there were a few left. Simon picked his way across the dead battlefield. Once the invaders had landed small groups had gotten together to try to fight them off. This had been the site of one of those failed resistances. The ragged man dressed in denim and leather now scavenged what weapons he could off the dead. Another solid magazine for the M16 he’d found, those were getting harder to come by and it might be time to switch to a weapon it was easier to find ammo for, but it had proven too useful to discard until he had to do it.
Simon looked up at the skies for signs of patrols. Red light shown through the clouds and cast shadows all around him. He rarely had the chance to shave anymore, but the most he got anyway would look like five o clock shadow on somebody else. He had short brown hair that got more ragged by the day, but he kept it from getting too long. As he looked out over the battle field it was hard to believe this had once been a town. There were no buildings left standing and a lot of what was around had been made into defensive structures with sandbags and scrap metal. Otherwise it was a landscape of trenches ripped into concrete and twisted heaps of rebar, asphalt, and steel.
Simon crested the next heap of tangled urban landscape and spotted a pod sitting in the wreckage. It was rare that any of the aliens technology remained intact once it was disabled. He carefully picked his way down into what remained of the cross streets to get a closer look. He knew what it was, because he’d seen them spread out across battlefields before, when he was still fighting. As far as he could tell they were used to process what was happening in the skirmishes to help the ships and other combatants stay organized. The weapons they had were low grade by comparison, but would still be fun to take a look at. Like the others it was a chrome steel egg about half the size of a refrigerator, but this one was dormant and the steel cables and wires on the bottom seemed to be missing. It was strange to see a deadly part of the alien menace in such a state.
The survivor touched his hand to the cool metal and the blue ring around the bottom began to glow.
“No no no!” Simon scrambled backwards as the machine hummed back to life and slowly began to rise. The familiar cables and wires descending from inside of it, hanging down as it reached about nine feet in the air. Simon dived into an abandoned makeshift bunker and set up a good firing position. They could be deadly, but if he could get off enough shots he’d found they could be taken out. He pulled the assault rifle tightly into his shoulder and calmed his breath down. As long as all of his shots hit pretty close to the center of that damn thing he’d be alright. Three loud bangs as three bullets bit into the robots hull, and then a click and the trigger refused to move.
“Fuck …”
The skies had turned red. Most of the people left were slaves either in mines or on plantations. Humanity had never stood a chance. The invaders had bombarded us from orbit with energy weapons we had no way to defend against. Our farmlands were irradiated, our defenses crippled, and we didn’t even have any way to strike back against them until so many of us were scattered and dead that it didn’t matter. They never spoke to us, but the message was clear. Earth was now their home.
Still, there were a few left. Simon picked his way across the dead battlefield. Once the invaders had landed small groups had gotten together to try to fight them off. This had been the site of one of those failed resistances. The ragged man dressed in denim and leather now scavenged what weapons he could off the dead. Another solid magazine for the M16 he’d found, those were getting harder to come by and it might be time to switch to a weapon it was easier to find ammo for, but it had proven too useful to discard until he had to do it.
Simon looked up at the skies for signs of patrols. Red light shown through the clouds and cast shadows all around him. He rarely had the chance to shave anymore, but the most he got anyway would look like five o clock shadow on somebody else. He had short brown hair that got more ragged by the day, but he kept it from getting too long. As he looked out over the battle field it was hard to believe this had once been a town. There were no buildings left standing and a lot of what was around had been made into defensive structures with sandbags and scrap metal. Otherwise it was a landscape of trenches ripped into concrete and twisted heaps of rebar, asphalt, and steel.
Simon crested the next heap of tangled urban landscape and spotted a pod sitting in the wreckage. It was rare that any of the aliens technology remained intact once it was disabled. He carefully picked his way down into what remained of the cross streets to get a closer look. He knew what it was, because he’d seen them spread out across battlefields before, when he was still fighting. As far as he could tell they were used to process what was happening in the skirmishes to help the ships and other combatants stay organized. The weapons they had were low grade by comparison, but would still be fun to take a look at. Like the others it was a chrome steel egg about half the size of a refrigerator, but this one was dormant and the steel cables and wires on the bottom seemed to be missing. It was strange to see a deadly part of the alien menace in such a state.
The survivor touched his hand to the cool metal and the blue ring around the bottom began to glow.
“No no no!” Simon scrambled backwards as the machine hummed back to life and slowly began to rise. The familiar cables and wires descending from inside of it, hanging down as it reached about nine feet in the air. Simon dived into an abandoned makeshift bunker and set up a good firing position. They could be deadly, but if he could get off enough shots he’d found they could be taken out. He pulled the assault rifle tightly into his shoulder and calmed his breath down. As long as all of his shots hit pretty close to the center of that damn thing he’d be alright. Three loud bangs as three bullets bit into the robots hull, and then a click and the trigger refused to move.
“Fuck …”
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