Assisted Suicide

[Stargate525]

'Alright boys, we're here. Gemini, make sure you have your internal warnings turned off this time; we don't want another Torgun Valley, do we?'

   'Yeah, yeah.' Came the reply over the intercom. There was a chirp near Prime, 'All set boss.' Prime punched the All clear button on his panel, and the marines were dropped in. Prime, Gemini, and the others leaned back, their chairs sliding into position as the HUD visor and canopy descended into position. There was a pinprick, a moment of blackness, then the camera came online. Prime flexed his arms in turn, checked his systems, then stood up.

   Report.

   Over the comm came the routine reply, ASGs all around. Excellent. Prime brought up the area map for the mission, showing it to the rest, Alright boys, your standard eliminate and sterilize. Henricks Base, same as ours, should be a cakewalk. Delta-four-five formation, let's go.

   Under the cover of darkness, five combat marines were detectable only by the faint glow form their optronics, and the whispering whir of their joints. Their handlers were well trained, and the guards didn't see them until it was too late. Deegan had found an excellent vantage point, and neutralized the four watchposts as Mr. Peanut and Prime closed in for the close kill on the two door guards. There was silence in the grounds, the only sound being the clicks and whirs from the neutralized guards lying on the ground. Prime reached into his victim and ripped out a large panel. The guard went silent. Bomberman, now cleared for approach, lumbered over to the blast door barring them access. He fiddled for a moment, leaned right up against the door, then pulled back, leaving a significant portion of his bulk attached, crablike, to the door.
   
Clear up guys... Clear...? Good. FIRE IN THE HOLE!

The device attached to the door beeped once, twice, before exploding into a brilliant fireball. The optical filters lagged for a moment as the intense light was scrubbed from the feed, for which everyone was grateful.
   
You know Bomberman, you don't have to shout, you're on a frikkin intercom...

   Alerts went off in the base, not through the audio feed... Damnit, a friggin raid. Gemini said, only mildly annoyed, Orders boss?

   You know the procedure, Prime replied, Finish the mission, we're beyond the recovery point. Prime activated the outer auditory buffers, which reduced the alarm to background noise. Prime stepped into the compound, swept the area, then took point as the others filed in; Gemini, Mr Peanut, Bomberman, and Deegan. Alarms had been sounded here, but this was not unexpected, and would make their job so much easier. Prime gunned down two guards as they burst into the entrance, then another two as they progressed down the hallway. Heads up boys, we should be getting to fleshies soon, Henricks bases don't hold many marines.

   Prime's observation held to be true. Deegan took out the first fleshie, his body armor unable to withstand a bullet meant for marines at point-blank range. On his heels was a company of soldiers, who put up a bit of annoying resistance until Bomberman slung a grenade into their rear. The squad advanced, the lack of olfactory input shielding the handlers from the smell of burning flesh.

   <ALERT, ALERT, PERIMITER BREACH, ALL HANDS REPORT TO BATTLE STATIONS... ALERT, ALERT...> Prime heard the PA announcement, barely audible through the sounds of the marines's combat and the buffers.  Damn, they're more persistent than usual.

   It might be one of ours, Mr. Peanut said as he laid down covering fire, I hear there's some rebel infiltrators giving marines missions to our own bases.

   Don't be absurd, Bomberman said, launching a firebomb into the mess hall, A bunch of rebel propaganda.

   <WARNING, PARTY MEMBER INJURED>

   Damnit Deegan, what happened?

   Fleshie got me through my plate, clipped my cooling unit. Secondary systems... Will not engage. Sorry guys, I'm out. See you on the other side.

   <PARTY MEMBER 'DEEGAN' HAS LOGGED OFF>

   Bomberman caught Deegan's marine as it turned off, gently lowering it to the ground. Ahead of them, the Handler's bay opened up, releasing a small stream of men. These were quickly gunned down, but not before one of them got a clear shot at Bomberman's head.

   <WARNING, SENSORY OVERLOAD IN PROGRESS, FAILSAFES HAVE BEEN DAMAGED, ABORT.>

   Off the comm, Prime could hear screaming to his right, then a series of small bangs. Bomberman hadn't disengaged in time. No one moved to let his marine down gently; no one would be around to repair it.

   Prime pulled the bomb and detonator from the inert marine while Mr. Peanut and Gemini cleared the remaining resistance. All that remained was to clear out the Handler's room. A good haul, nearly half the pods were occupied. A few were gently smoking, the result of sensory overloads. Prime set the bomb, then stood sentinel for the withdraw.

   The bomb read a minute before Mr Peanut and Gemini gave the all clear, plenty of time to walk out. Prime moved past the resistance outside the handler's chamber, and noticed among the dead one wearing the garb of a handler. Odd, as procedure is that all handlers run the guard marines... He knelt to examine the body, and noticed a remarkable similarity to Deegan... He looked to the corpse's neighbor and, although Prime didn't recognize him, did recognize the insignia on the man's jacket.

   Kepler Base, AA0001. Prime's base... giving marines missions to our own bases... The smoking pod right where Bomberman would have been... They were killing themselves...

   Prime brought up the countdown; fifteen seconds, and only Bomberman had the override codes. Clever rebel bastards... Prime gave a salute and a grin to his opponents before blowing them, and him, into a blaze of white-hot plasma.

[LordVreeg]

I think I've thrice started this.  Then things get hairy at work...

I love the names, how real the choices were.

I'm still trying to get if there was enough detail or not.  Sometimes it is that very lack of too much detail that keeps thing moving and allows for a real surprise to come through at the end, whcih you certainly did really well.

the 2 points of incongruity that bugged me were the fact that though it was a certain basic base layout, that no-one was able to pick out the subtle idiosyncrasies that would have identified it as their own base,  and the actual origination point of the initial alarms.  

You might want to mention that the marines as having augmented visual pickups, which might explain the first.


Now, I loved the immediacy of it.  I loved the terseness, and the reversal was great.  The little touch of bomberman yelling into the audio feed was great.

[Numinous]

I feel that, lacking context, the beginning of the piece is very disorienting for the reader, and the details feel overwhelming.  Maybe making it more accessible to the casual reader would improve it?  I know that I felt lost until the very end, and even then my confusion detracted from the climax.

If I sound harsh, sorry.  I'm just trying to emphasize the constructive in cc these days.

[AllWillFall2Me]

Does it make my input any less important if I say that I agree with both the previous posters?
I liked the terse, constant movement of the piece, but will agree that, the first read through, I missed some of it from confusion.
Also, how does this system work that they don't even know the location of their attack? I can understand some confusion, to busy fighting to take in the details, but in most military battles, the men know where they're fighting beforehand, as it's pretty hard to get somewhere without knowing where you are. Perhaps a bit of an explanatory paragraph in the beginning, like, "It was all in place. The marines had been delivered to the location via air-drop, a black-ops mission. Destination a need-to-know basis, and the handlers didn't need to know." Then give a bit of an explanation on the remote control system, etc.
My input, humbly submitted.