Kill it You Coward!
Nov 27, 2022 17:43:18 GMT -5
Post by Radrook Admin on Nov 27, 2022 17:43:18 GMT -5
Kill it You Coward!
by Radrook
by Radrook
Mikhail Romanov, was aiming his M24 rifle at the bulbous hairless head of the arachnid alien general but, could not manage to pull the trigger. He had been following the alien and waiting for the right moment to strike, and this was the perfect moment. There it was, right in his sights, divested totally of its impenetrable body armor without its bodyguards with its huge compound eyes closed and deeply asleep. There would also be plenty of time during the ensuing confusion to escape once the deed had been done. It was the perfect opportunity that he’d waited for and hoped for during years of cunningly stalking it from a far distance while observing its daily habits. Yet, he could not do it. The question was why?
It wasn’t for lack of commitment. He had volunteered for the assignment and the briefing that he had received just prior to leaving on the mission had enervated him with a feral determination to carry it out. He clearly recalled the last pre-mission pep-talk:
“We must eliminate the alien leader and leave their armies leaderless. It is the only way to disorganize these insectoid invaders to give us the advantage of a surprise attack!” the human General had shouted as he repeatedly pounded the lectern with his clenched fist in order to convey the urgency of the mission. At that time, Mikhail Romanov believed that the general was absolutely right and had taken an oath to do as the plan required.
The few remaining surveillance satellites had revealed that their fleet had landed deep in the Amazon Jungle at the edge of the Amazon River.
“We need to strike fast before any reinforcements arrive. We need to make a bloody example of their leader.”
Romanov had been thoroughly trained to take out the Arachnid hive leader while the other two Marines were to back him up until he could get within firing range. They had done their jobs very well, albeit at the cost of their lives. But it had provided the edge he needed to get close enough for that one crucial shot. Yet, now, with the Arachnid Hive Leader easily within range, he found himself hesitating and could not figure out why.
After all, he had a strong motive for retribution. He’d personally witnessed the Arachnid cruelty towards humans many times just as everyone else. He had observed in horror how the arachnid Leader had ordered the unmerciful devastation of entire human cities and arrogantly established a base on Earth protected via an anti-matter force-field that was totally impervious to thermo nuclear attack. How the base remained unscathed while the surrounding landscape had been devastated by the blast. How this arrogant Leader had boasted that soon another fleet would arrive and then the entire Earth would feel their wrath in earnest.
He had helplessly been forced to witness thousands of enslaved humans, forced to labor on the Lunar and Martian mines in order to extract the precious metals necessary for the mass-production Arachnid weapons. How their arrogant bloodthirsty Leader had ordered a modification of the Earth so that it would gradually become unsuitable for human habitation but ideal for Arachnid survival. He knew that they seemed somehow dependent on this general for all decisions as if by sheer instinct. This dependency was perceived as a weakness, and thus his mission to take the general out had been deemed essential.
“Decapitate the head and the body will fall!” the old human marine captain had shouted at them within one of the few remaining underground bunkers.
“Just one good shot to the exposed Arachnid skull will do it. It has to remove that damn armor sometime. Follow it! Study it, and when it does, blow its brains to kingdom come! With your rifle’s muzzle velocity 2,580 feet per second, the alien bastard wont have time to evade, even with its heightened Arachnid senses. ”
Romanov clearly remembered the deep guttural hatred in the human general’s voice and the wild determination in his frantically desperate human eyes. How he had pounded the lectern with his massive clenched fist to emphasize the importance of the deed. He clearly recalled how the brown tobacco-laden spittle had flown from the sides of his lips as he forcefully pronounced every hateful word and spoken concerning the Arachnid General’s death.
Yet, now within easy rifle range, he could not fire his weapon. True, it had been five long years since then, but he still recalled it vividly. Five crucial years during which he had relentlessly tracked the Arachnid leader while Earth’s military forces had lost control of the Moon base and of Mars and the battle on the ground leaving only a few meager resistance groups intact-groups that would soon also succumb to the inexorable Arachnid aggression orchestrated by this leader. He had also witnessed how other Arachnid generals had arrived leading millions of Arachnid soldiers and he suddenly realized that killing this particular general assigned to him would now be meaningless. Is that why he could not pull the trigger?
As he continued watching from behind a boulder out-cropping atop a mountain overlooking the Arachnid camp, he beheld the sudden arrival of haggard human prisoners being led out from an arachnid prisoner transport in single file. Among them, in tattered green military garb, was the human captain who had delivered the pre-mission pep-talk. He seemed far older now, grey-haired, hunched at the shoulders and walking with a pronounced limp.
Romanov watched in silence as they were all led down a winding, narrow dirt path through the dense jungle towards a dilapidated whitewashed wall and lined up for execution. He had a clear shot at those Arachnids who were not wearing protective armor as well, perhaps because now human resistance had become almost non existent, but he could not pull the trigger and felt his trigger finger trembling in response to his effort.
Through the rifle’s scope, he observed how the Arachnid general, recently stirred from slumber, was slowly donning its impenetrable armor before giving the order of execution, Yet, Romanov was reluctantly permitted it. As he watched, he thought he saw the human general suddenly detect the distant glint of his rifle in the out-cropping. He could clearly read the human generals chapped, and bloodied lips as he gazed up in his direction, seeming to realize that Romanov was there, within easy rifle range and shouted. “Kill it! Damn you! kill it Romanov!” Then he heard him say! “Damn you, you coward! Damn you to hell!” just before the arachnid general gave the order and the Arachnid firing squad used its disintegrators to silence his frenetic human shouts. But Romanov’s trigger-finger would not respond as hot tears of frustration poured from his eyes. He wondered whether his strict religious upbringing that emphasized the preciousness of life was to blame. Yet, it had never interfered with his duties of violence before, so why now? He also noticed how the Arachnids stared up at his location as if they had known that he had been there all along and yet seemed to ignore him.
As he remained posed at th outcrop, the Brazilian sun began to gradually descend beneath the dense tropical forest-horizon. It was only as the evening darkness arrived that Romanov began to realize that he could not move from his firing position at all. Finally, after fifteen long hours, he had finally begun to detect the paralyzing scorpion-like black Arachnid stinger protruding from the base of his neck, as its local anesthetic effect began wearing off, and he finally realized why he had been unable to accomplish his mission. But worst of all, he heard the Arachnids slowly closing in on him from all sides. They were taking their time in an effort to prolong his suffering.
Yet, he smiled.
“Hi!” he said to the Arachnid general as it emerged from the underbrush with its pincers extended like a large scorpion reaching for his throat, just before the explosives attached to Romanov’s torso detonated automatically at their physical proximity and blew the entire Amazonian region into a gloriously brilliant oblivion.
It wasn’t for lack of commitment. He had volunteered for the assignment and the briefing that he had received just prior to leaving on the mission had enervated him with a feral determination to carry it out. He clearly recalled the last pre-mission pep-talk:
“We must eliminate the alien leader and leave their armies leaderless. It is the only way to disorganize these insectoid invaders to give us the advantage of a surprise attack!” the human General had shouted as he repeatedly pounded the lectern with his clenched fist in order to convey the urgency of the mission. At that time, Mikhail Romanov believed that the general was absolutely right and had taken an oath to do as the plan required.
The few remaining surveillance satellites had revealed that their fleet had landed deep in the Amazon Jungle at the edge of the Amazon River.
“We need to strike fast before any reinforcements arrive. We need to make a bloody example of their leader.”
Romanov had been thoroughly trained to take out the Arachnid hive leader while the other two Marines were to back him up until he could get within firing range. They had done their jobs very well, albeit at the cost of their lives. But it had provided the edge he needed to get close enough for that one crucial shot. Yet, now, with the Arachnid Hive Leader easily within range, he found himself hesitating and could not figure out why.
After all, he had a strong motive for retribution. He’d personally witnessed the Arachnid cruelty towards humans many times just as everyone else. He had observed in horror how the arachnid Leader had ordered the unmerciful devastation of entire human cities and arrogantly established a base on Earth protected via an anti-matter force-field that was totally impervious to thermo nuclear attack. How the base remained unscathed while the surrounding landscape had been devastated by the blast. How this arrogant Leader had boasted that soon another fleet would arrive and then the entire Earth would feel their wrath in earnest.
He had helplessly been forced to witness thousands of enslaved humans, forced to labor on the Lunar and Martian mines in order to extract the precious metals necessary for the mass-production Arachnid weapons. How their arrogant bloodthirsty Leader had ordered a modification of the Earth so that it would gradually become unsuitable for human habitation but ideal for Arachnid survival. He knew that they seemed somehow dependent on this general for all decisions as if by sheer instinct. This dependency was perceived as a weakness, and thus his mission to take the general out had been deemed essential.
“Decapitate the head and the body will fall!” the old human marine captain had shouted at them within one of the few remaining underground bunkers.
“Just one good shot to the exposed Arachnid skull will do it. It has to remove that damn armor sometime. Follow it! Study it, and when it does, blow its brains to kingdom come! With your rifle’s muzzle velocity 2,580 feet per second, the alien bastard wont have time to evade, even with its heightened Arachnid senses. ”
Romanov clearly remembered the deep guttural hatred in the human general’s voice and the wild determination in his frantically desperate human eyes. How he had pounded the lectern with his massive clenched fist to emphasize the importance of the deed. He clearly recalled how the brown tobacco-laden spittle had flown from the sides of his lips as he forcefully pronounced every hateful word and spoken concerning the Arachnid General’s death.
Yet, now within easy rifle range, he could not fire his weapon. True, it had been five long years since then, but he still recalled it vividly. Five crucial years during which he had relentlessly tracked the Arachnid leader while Earth’s military forces had lost control of the Moon base and of Mars and the battle on the ground leaving only a few meager resistance groups intact-groups that would soon also succumb to the inexorable Arachnid aggression orchestrated by this leader. He had also witnessed how other Arachnid generals had arrived leading millions of Arachnid soldiers and he suddenly realized that killing this particular general assigned to him would now be meaningless. Is that why he could not pull the trigger?
As he continued watching from behind a boulder out-cropping atop a mountain overlooking the Arachnid camp, he beheld the sudden arrival of haggard human prisoners being led out from an arachnid prisoner transport in single file. Among them, in tattered green military garb, was the human captain who had delivered the pre-mission pep-talk. He seemed far older now, grey-haired, hunched at the shoulders and walking with a pronounced limp.
Romanov watched in silence as they were all led down a winding, narrow dirt path through the dense jungle towards a dilapidated whitewashed wall and lined up for execution. He had a clear shot at those Arachnids who were not wearing protective armor as well, perhaps because now human resistance had become almost non existent, but he could not pull the trigger and felt his trigger finger trembling in response to his effort.
Through the rifle’s scope, he observed how the Arachnid general, recently stirred from slumber, was slowly donning its impenetrable armor before giving the order of execution, Yet, Romanov was reluctantly permitted it. As he watched, he thought he saw the human general suddenly detect the distant glint of his rifle in the out-cropping. He could clearly read the human generals chapped, and bloodied lips as he gazed up in his direction, seeming to realize that Romanov was there, within easy rifle range and shouted. “Kill it! Damn you! kill it Romanov!” Then he heard him say! “Damn you, you coward! Damn you to hell!” just before the arachnid general gave the order and the Arachnid firing squad used its disintegrators to silence his frenetic human shouts. But Romanov’s trigger-finger would not respond as hot tears of frustration poured from his eyes. He wondered whether his strict religious upbringing that emphasized the preciousness of life was to blame. Yet, it had never interfered with his duties of violence before, so why now? He also noticed how the Arachnids stared up at his location as if they had known that he had been there all along and yet seemed to ignore him.
As he remained posed at th outcrop, the Brazilian sun began to gradually descend beneath the dense tropical forest-horizon. It was only as the evening darkness arrived that Romanov began to realize that he could not move from his firing position at all. Finally, after fifteen long hours, he had finally begun to detect the paralyzing scorpion-like black Arachnid stinger protruding from the base of his neck, as its local anesthetic effect began wearing off, and he finally realized why he had been unable to accomplish his mission. But worst of all, he heard the Arachnids slowly closing in on him from all sides. They were taking their time in an effort to prolong his suffering.
Yet, he smiled.
“Hi!” he said to the Arachnid general as it emerged from the underbrush with its pincers extended like a large scorpion reaching for his throat, just before the explosives attached to Romanov’s torso detonated automatically at their physical proximity and blew the entire Amazonian region into a gloriously brilliant oblivion.