DK ' 2000

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This story will definitely be continued.  Since the storyline hasn't been developed yet, don't expect another space-war story.  This is something different...

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DK - 6.11.00
"I like it."

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- Heart of a Fortress -

Written by: DK
Last Updated:
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Chapter One – "GO TO HELL…"

    "Wake up sir! Captain Larkin! WAKE UP!!"

I awoke to a violent shaking. My blurred vision cleared as I made out the silhouette of Private Kittridge. I barely remembered the fact that he was a green soldier. He was new to our platoon. He was still a mama’s boy, but I saw that he had a small burning flame of courage deep inside – somewhere…

I looked at Kittridge, my eyes still wincing from the sudden intake of light.

He was fully in-gear. He had his assault rifle at his side, bullets belted up across his chest, and night-visors fully operational on his forehead.

What the hell, I thought. But to my dismay, I soon found my answer.


    "Captain Larkin! Our base… we’re under attack!"

I got up quickly and looked out the small opening at the wall. Sure enough, the streaking of bullets and the burning of rampant fire were seen. The flames engulfed our perimeter defenses and blood-curling screams were heard everywhere.

    "What should we do, captain?" Kittridge asked as I rapidly strapped up my weapons and supplies.

The hell with uniform.

I was ready within seconds and running out the doorway.

    "Private!" I demanded.

    "Yes, sir?!"

    "Where’s your team?"

    "They’re out fighting."

I cursed silently. Now whom am I going to fight with? The whole damn base was caught off-guard. I had no support!

    "Alright. C’mon, let’s move."

Kittridge looked hesitant. He reluctantly followed my orders and quickly ran by my side. I knew that he thought running out like this was suicidal. In order to crush an assault, a large force was needed. Going out there into the heart of the killin’ fields with one guy besides you would be wasteful, futile, and stupid. But it wasn’t his call.

It was mine.


We reached the doorway and found a large pool of blood near the drainage. I looked around and saw our enemies.

The Garatons.

Their shiny green armor glistened in the dark of night. Fearlessly, they ran with intense momentum into the core of our defenses – slaughtering anything that moved.


    The Garatons originally came from the depths of space. From the first week after we colonized the planet, Xarrux, the Garatons had appeared numerous times. Each time, we undertook ways of upholding peace. But the Garatons would have none of it; they chose to attack us instead.

The Garatons were strong and ruthless warriors. Their awesome build and fearsome fighting prowess were unmatched.

They were ugly too. The Garatons had thick, grey skin. It was extremely bulky and muscular. They’re eyes were shiny beads of darkness. They were like visors. These "visors" protected their sensitive retinas and gave them excellent vision. Like us, the Garatons breathed oxygen. But their noses were no more than two indiscernible holes under their beady eyes.

The Garatons had a variety of hand-weapons. These weapons were highly advanced – ranging from shock-axes to photon-blasters to unbreakable energy blades.

They were the perfect hunters.


    "Kittridge! Ready your rifle and cover me!"

    "Yes sir!" he cried as he loaded his assault rifle. The trusty machinery hummed and prepared for the bloodbath.

Like a madman, Kittridge fired.

He fired at every Garaton he saw.

Dark-green blood oozed all over and deafening howls of pain were heard.

    "Aw damn!" Kittridge yelled as he fired. I looked to my left and spotted 10 armored-Garatons running toward us. I took out three shock-grenades and threw them as hard as I could.

The first one hit a Garaton squarely in the face.

So long sucker!

The grenade exploded on impact and immediately, it began to rain blood. The other two grenades took the rest of the pack down. Only two poor Garatons remained – fazed and badly wounded, they retreated.


By now, almost all of the Garatons had diverted their attention to us.

We were fresh blood.

We made the most noise and proved a lot more difficult to kill than the others. Baring weapons of all sizes, they charged us.

    "RUN!!" I yelled. I looked for Kittridge and saw him already scampering for dear life.

You bastard!

I started a steady trot. I couldn’t move very fast with all the weapons I was lugging.

Where would we go, I thought.

I didn’t know where to go and how to beat those angry guys behind me. I was running, but I knew that eventually I’d get tired and stop. If I happen to stop in an open area where there’d be no where to hide, I’d surely die.


I called out to Kittridge. I told him to round the base and meet at the headquarters. All the while, shoot at every damn Garaton you see.

He obliged and I quickly diverted off my course. I leapt behind a vehicle and immediately began to load up my assault rifles, both of them. The familiar hum filled my ears, and I just couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear.

I sprung from my hiding place, and screamed,


I held down the trigger as far as I could. My body shook with the rifles as they unleashed their awesome barrage of bullets. Maybe ten or twenty Garatons were instantly cut down.

A couple of others tried to flank me, but I swayed a little to my side and plopped off their heads.

I was having a blast.

I had never seen so much green blood splashed out of so many different parts of their bodies.


    One of the assault rifles then went blank. Without wasting a second, I junked it and reached for my grenades. With one hand firing a rifle and the other tightly holding my precious grenades, I sprinted as fast as I could to the headquarters. I mowed down any Garaton that got in my path and blew up any stupid ones that tried to chase me.


    Kittridge and some other men were already at the headquarters. Once I got in, they closed the gates. After much inquiring, I learned that we were the only survivors on this base. Over a hundred men lost their lives today.

    I could see that Kittridge was scared as hell. This was his first real battle – a battle that we lost, a battle that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

    "Evac arrives in 5 minutes!" one of the corporals informed me.

    "5 minutes?!" Kittridge yelled in a slightly cracked voice. He looked dazed and pale, and ready to throw up at the next sight of blood. Guess he never anticipated this kind of experience before. "We don’t friggin’ have 5 minutes! They’ll tear us apart before…"

    "Quiet down!" I commanded. I was getting annoyed at Kittridges inexperience and lack of confidence.

You need to find your balls ya damn coward!

I wanted to say that to him, but I knew that’d make him even less confidant than he was now.

    "You gotta calm down, Kittridge! We’ll be alright." I was sure of it.


To be continued...

Copyright © DK, 2000.  All rights reserved.

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