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Evil Knevil
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St Andrews, Scotland.
Dec 1999
time: 05:13
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This is a little taster of the story. Have fun, and if you have read it, make a mention at the bottom.. please. T
he Battle for Sparta Command
Screams muffled by helmets, screams not muffled by helmets. The roar of burning buildings, and the crack of concrete shattering like china. These were the sounds that filled my head and make me quail in terror. My platoon had already lost 3 men in an attack on a transformer station. This battle was a living nightmare, men falling right and centre as bombs exploded all around the main complexes and roads. Grenades flew like hail, and the miserable hiss of gatling lasers was punctuated by the cracks made by shredder guns.
The fighting was made much worse by the shape of these totalitarian monoliths. The close space between the housing centers had created a hells maw where entire divisions were devoured.
I, we had to capture this squat tower so that we could have a clear punch at the Headquarters of this damned hole. As I already said, much of my platoon had been lost. Along with reminants of the 3rd Gatling Laser Battalion we had been trying to crack open the building and clean it out. All day we had sent waves of men and hundreds of our men simply dissapeared. The barricades and defensive positions simply mowed our men down. They were guarding something in that building.
The Santiago Guard were defending that building, the greatest troops of all of Spartan were defending this building!. They could kill a man in Silksteel with a Shredder pistol -as had been so aptly demonstrated. This was either a sign of desperation, or madness. That Santiago was willing to commit her best to the last man.
We must have been half crazed by the death and fire around us -so must they. But we could not stop. How could we?
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02-01-2000 05:47
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