Re: Crashed Hive- Mountains east of TP forums.
“…eeper Krell. Respond.” He waited. Nothing. He sighed, flicked a knob on the radio, and spoke again.
“Bunker Command, this is Keeper Krell. Respond.” He was halfway to turning the knob again when finally, after almost a day of trying, he got a response.
“Keeper Krell, the is Bunker Command. We were beginning to worry.”
Sarcasm. At a time like this. In less dire situations, Krell would’ve shouted some seriousness into the sod, but as it was now… his men had heard the reply, and were beginning to amble over.
“Bunker Command. What are our orders?”
“Orders? Think about your position! We’d all had you pinned as dead! Get back here while you still can.”
Idiots! Krell thought. You haven’t even heard our status report yet, and you want us to just return!? Strangely, some of his men seemed to have differing opinions to his own.
“Orders? What are you asking them about orders for? After this shit, we deserve to get a rest! Get a damn transport up here!” Without turning to look, Krell punched the face of the man who had spoken out. Talking again to the radio, he growled,
“Get Host in there.” The person on the other end began to make a noise of protest, but was cut of by a snarl. “Now.”
Footsteps… a door opened and shut. Some time passed. A door opening and shutting again, and more footsteps. A new voice came across the radio.
“Mr Krell. How do things look out there?” Finally.
“The forum is in pieces, multiple buildings destroyed, not much of anything is still standing.”
“Your current location?”
“Crumpled section of their old main building. We’ve holed the only remaining entrance shut with a large piece of debris. So far it’s kept the enemy off of our position.”
There is a distinct pause.
“Do you know anything about a large explosion…”
“That was not us, sir.” Krell’s reply was somewhat hastier than the previous ones.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sure.” Does he –have- to make jabs every time there’s an explosion around me?
“We saw a moon dancing on a sword tip.”
This time it was Krell’s turn to pause.
“…What?”
“It’s code, you fuc-””No, I know –that-! I mean, that makes two moons. That can’t be right, you said there was only one.”
“That makes three, actually. You’re forgetting the first one.”
“Still. Where did it come from?”
Host’s voice became exasperated. “I don’t know that, yet! Its current location is of far more importance to you, anyway – You’re the only squads we have spare, so I’m sending you and your men to preform recon, case five. That way you can try and help me learn about it.” Another pause. When he spoke again, Host's voice had an edge of sadness to it.
“Be careful in there. Stick to the plans. We lost too many in that fight.”
Krell merely saluted, and turned the radio off. He turned to face a crowd of sombre faces, belonging to people with crushed morale and battered bodies.
“You heard him,” Krell said with a snarl. “At the ready! Take positions!”
Though no one noticed, Krell failed to suppress a small smile.
“We’re going to the moon!”
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As he made his way through the hive, Burrito heard the wonderful sound of automatic weapons fire erupting from down one of the corridors. Live ammo ruled out the Wraith… perhaps it was more of the Toon Pimp members? A quick glance of the map showed it to be a somewhat longer route than the best one, but if someone was going to the trouble of taking care of the Wraith for him…
