Alright, before I give the story, I just wanted to say I don't write scifi very often (this is my first, to be honest) and I usually write fantasy. I also noticed that while I was writing I changed my tenses (I tend to do that). Some of it wasn't very well thought out and I just made it up as I went (partly because I was in my math class). Well, without any further ado, here it is:
The sounds of the dead and dying were everywhere. The monolithic buildings of glass exploding from percussion. Shards of glass fell on the body's below in the cratered roads. Smoke and blazing flames billowed from trees and smaller, wooden buildings.
Jets and alien machines plummeted from some where in the sky, exploding in a blast of flame and shrapnel before they hit the ground. People ran everywhere -- those who were still alive -- trying to escape the city and the cold blade of Death.
In the sewers of the city there were hundreds of people trying to escape the city this way. The soldiers left alive were trying their best to direct the mob, resorting to shooting anyone who got violent. The only soldiers who weren't directing the movement were an elite group specialized in stealth assault and extraction. They were bending over a map of the city, hardly visible by the little light the fluorescent flares produced, contemplating their orders and how to carry them out.
The map showed the city with red lines tracing attack routes to a library. The library was softly sketched over with a drawing of some sort of space craft. Covering up half of the map was a pile of papers, haphazardly stacked up. The top paper looked highly official and it read:
To: The Assault and Extraction team
Subject: The destruction of alien transport
The following information is for AAE only. When orders are read destroy immediately.
There is an alien transport vehicle above the local library. The ship, according to reconnaissance, carried in an estimate of 220 soldiers, all carrying light plasma rifles and shock grenades. The ship itself contains very little firepower, but is heavily guarded. Your mission: Survive insertion and retrieve any vital information, then destroy the ship. Upon successful completion of the mission you will be debriefed and given new orders.
You will be inserted via a drop from one of our Apaches. The drop will take place above the library. While the drop is taking place, two more teams will enter the front and back of the library, securing the bottom floor. We expect you at the base at 0200 tomorrow.
We're counting on you.
An average looking man that held himself in such a way that is was as if he mocked himself spoke to the others, "He said destroy it, so what are we waiting for?" He looked at the other seven with a determined glare. "John, you even said that it should be easy, what's the problem?"
"Exactly that." Said a more heavyset man with a scarred face and dented dog-tags that read: Johnathan, XXXX. "It's too easy is the problem. A normal grunt could pull this off. I don't like it, there's something we're missing."
The group looked around uneasily. They had never gone into a mission that John had felt bad about. Then again, they've never attacked an alien transport. What was HQ thinking, sending in a stealth squad for a frontal attack? It was madness -- not that it couldn't be handled -- this was a grunts job, and should be carried out by a grunt.
"Well, there's eight of us, so I think we should team up like this; Tarry and Me drop in on the roof; Ben and Ron and Laura, you go in the back." John got a few looks at the last name, Laura didn't work very will with Ben, and everyone knew that. "And Hail, you are with James and Anne. Any questions?"
Besides a few disgruntled looks from Ben, who looked thoroughly disgusted, and Laura, nobody spoke or moved. The amount of people rushing by was beginning to lessen. It was almost quiet enough to hear the dripping from the sewage pipes, almost.
There was a loud rumbling coming from the engines of the Apache as it started up. Pilots and engineers rushed purposefully across the base, shouting orders to idle men. The base itself was made up of only a few tactical tents and two hangars. Inside the largest tent, situated at the center of the makeshift base, John and Tarry were being informed of all the new recon that had come in during the last two hours.
The inside of the tent was almost completely bare, with the exception of a weapon rack that had several alien weapons which were glowing radically. There was also a table lined with computers with satalite (what was left of them) connections. The radio was currently being flooded with explosions of noise, men shouting orders, the sounds of gun fire, and screaming.
There was very little new information. They had been able to get a head count of the amount of hostiles on the ground floor of the library. They counted twenty at least and thermal scanning didn't work because the aliens seemed to be cold blooded. The only other information they had was there were no guards on the roof at the time of surveillance--about two hours ago.
The information was still lacking, and they still had no clear idea why the aliens were holding that building specifically. There was nothing of importance, as far as anyone knew. It was just a simple public library. All it had were a bunch of books and video's, and maybe some old worn out computers. This must be what John was thinking because he spoke up.
"Isn't it possible that they could use the libraries resources to learn about our ships, planes, and weapons?"
Everybody elses eyes darkened, but they all had a sparkle of thought as they contemplated. One officer, a short, scrawny man, walked out of the tent suddenly.
"You might be onto something." Stated the general, as he turned to start giving out new orders. "I want two more squads to team up with the two groups of AAE storming the library." He turned back to John, his face set. "I want you to burn down the library before extraction. Do not let that transport transmit any information."
Saluting, John turned on his heel and leaft. once ouside of the tent he breaks into a run to the hangar. He had no time to waste, the alien threat could take the information and send it at any second.
Arriving at the hangar, he gets salutes and two soldiers walk up to him. They salute and tell him to follow. They walk to the back of the hangar to an equipment storage room. This room contained state-of-the-art weaponry and utilities. There were several empty racks, the sudden invasion and pressing war was slowly diminishing weaponry. One case had solid metal doors on it with the insignia of the AAE, specially made weapons and equipment not to be used by any other soldiers.
John pushed his hand onto a gel console, which molded itself perfectly to his hand. The gel was warm around his hand, causing his hand to sweat slightly. The gel released a blast, making his hand freeze, causing the pores on his hand to contract to get a more accurate scan. The "blast and scan", as it's called, lasts only a few seconds. This way of print scanning was unable to be fooled. It can even tell a dead hand from a living one, since dead skin doesn't contract or persperate.
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