The second thing would be Ravens stories from whatever universe he is writing from. And later tonight I will post the fifth chapter of "Two Minutes Of Terror" by yours truly. Remember to have a fun and crazy Halloween guys, also remember to go to the channel to subscribe and like while following me and commenting for the latest news. -Stray
For the Content hungry fans you have Stray
Unsung Heroes
By Blood Raven 117
Chapter one, The glory of the Unnamed
Larnegin was sweating hard. His heart beat like a marching drum on a parade ground. He heard nothing and only saw ahead of him, at the other end of the ring. Standing there, with his boxing gloves on tight Janeson smiled cockily as he moved his wrist in a insult to him, trying to get him attack. Larnegin didn't budge. Sound was still gone, then like the waves of Vernesta when under them and suddenly ringing out he heard the cheers, the whoops, the sounds of machines working, the sounds of man, woman, and alien working and keeping in peak physical condition.
All around him Larnegin saw the gathered 10th company of the 10th Vernestan Marines, and a few of the Drill Instructors and Staff Sergeants. Janeson had suggested a nice public match. The two had been practicing their new fighting styles they had been learning, Krav Magra some called it, others MMA, a few just said pain. The gloves were just so they didn't punch in one anothers face. Around them who surrounded him, Larnegin saw Caref, Jard in his “Skinned” or human form. He also saw Larky, Lunie, all of them. He smiled, “What? You getting cocky now?” Janeson asked as they circled the arena.
At the other end of the training room, he saw other beings. A few tall as a space marine, but distinctly different, were lifting weights, talking, or exercising in other ways. Further along the giant circular room, he saw a grouping of Half Breeds, daemonhosts. They assorted themselves, from the four chaos gods. Larnegin had learned much in his time here about both those groups. The first, the tall humans, were something called Spartans. Specifically a mix of Spartan II's, III's, and even a few dozen Spartan V's. The spartan V's may as well have been space marines, so heavily armoured and armed, drawn from the finest men and woman humanities many dimension's had to offer. The Half Breeds on the other hand, were almost opposite, shorter, many varied, some lanky dirty and sick, others bright red like blood and bearing charms, others more emphasized on their appearance, both sick to look at but irresistible to take your eyes away. And finally the more older, wizened looking ones, obviously crackling with contained psychic energy.
As they kept circling Larnegin saw more, Engineers of the supposed Quarians assisted by Huragoks, or more simply called Engineers, working on the machines of the base. More he saw, Eldar, Tau, Sangheli's, Special operations troops, Space Marines, Sisters of Battle even. Even more he saw storm troopers, Kedesians, Anthropomorphic animal human hybrids of all shapes and sizes, and the best of the best; they looked like a mix of several things, they were about 6'6 feet tall average, they wore skin tight jumpsuits with either camo arrangements, or bright orange. They had hooks, clips, and other pockets and such for equipment. They all wore standard issue combat boots. Some had long hair, or had sheared theirs off. The most visible thing about them was their mask, they all wore a mask that looked a lot like the Quarian's mask, but no tube connections. All of them had thick banks of mist or fog covering their features. Some said that they wear those masks because they will lose their soul if they don't. He didn't think that, but he did admit, they looked menacing. He didn't even know what the Unnamed called them, fitting he thought to himself.
Then Janeson did his action. Lunging forward he punched for his gut. Larnegin sidestepped, made a counter move to Janeson's face. He ducked down and then tried to sweep Larn's feet from under him. Larn toppled, Janeson descended to make the final blow and pin him. Larn rolled away and Janeson was now off balance. Larn swiped Janeson's legs now and he fell on his face. Larnegin jumped back up immediately. The cheers surrounding them were deafening, like a solid tidal wave of sound, like the Basilisks firing and the triple A bunker being annihilated. Janeson tried to roll away himself, but was stopped as Larnegin fell on him when Janeson was face up. Punching him in the face, keeping his body pinned by his own weight. Janeson blocked with his forearms and then suddenly pushed forward with them like a riot shield almost. Pushing him off they tried to pin each other quickly, Janeson got behind Larnegin and then held him in a headlock. Larn slipped free, being drenched in sweat. Hitting Janeson in the face he knocked his head sideways. Then he kept punching, now on top, focusing himself on just trying to send the other man to unconsciousness. Janeson had no room to block. He was done for and tapped out. The arena's bell rang and there were boos and cheers.
“That was the sorriest match I have yet seen!” A man pushed his way onto the rink. Janeson and Larnegin jumped up to attention to the tall and muscled man. He cuffed them both on their padded helmets. “What do you have to say you two?” Janeson and Larnegin both looked up to him and said, “We'll train harder Staff Sergeant!” He looked at them both and with arms crossed nodded, “Damn right.” He said to them. “Go to the showers boys.” They both saluted and left the arena to their new supervising officer Staff Sergeant Indrein Johnson. Leaving the arena Larnegin saw the men around him mosh him and congratulate him loudly. Leaving the crowd he met with Janeson at the locker room's entrance.
A Kedeshian was leaning against the wall next to the door. She had a death mask up, on the top of her head. Her forearms branded with crosses. She sported long canine fangs like the saber cats of the plains on Vernesta. She smiled at him her K9's almost oversized it seemed, “Saw you and your friend on the rink.” She said jerking her head in the direction of the arena, now occupied by a pair of Sangheli warriors sparring with wooden swords, the 10th company dispersed to their de facto section of the gym. All in synchronized workout by the Staff Sergeant counting as he did push ups on a raised podium to make sure every one did them right.
Larnegin nodded and looking to her she went on, “You did pretty good for a beginner, you and your friend there.” Her smile disappeared, “Names Jackeline. Everyone calls me Jacky.” She extended her large hand out for him to shake. Jacky was a prime and fit specimen of the Kedeshian race. They were once human, and in a way still are, but ravaged by a horrible disease that raised their dead into zombies, they became infected and began to change and evolve. Eventually they realized they were changing, which was when they found the cure to the disease they all carried. After some debate among their leadership, instead of using the cure, they modified it into the next step of their development.
They had gotten bigger, stronger, smarter, and their bodies more efficient. And instead of cleansing themselves of the disease that made them like this, they used it, and made it better, making N5, the next step from N4, the disease that made the undead. Using it they got even better. Their race also had developed mutations depending on the environment, some had gills, others scales, and even the rare ones had the ability to blend into their environment with their chameleon like skin.
Larnegin took her hand in his, surprised that she offered to shake in the first place. Her hand was about 1.5 times larger then his. She was around 9 feet tall, towering over him. “My name's Larnegin.” Smiling at her she was intimidating but he had nothing to worry about. She smirked, “See you later kid.” Larnegin looked at her confused, “So you just say 'Hi' Then leave?” She kept walking and ignored him. Shaking his head he smiled at Janeson, “Who was that?” He asked taking his helmet off. Larnegin just shrugged.
The locker room was mostly empty, a few other guardsmen and woman was dressing or changing. Larnegin went to his locker and opened it. Putting his gear in it he got a towel. Moving to a stall he turned on the shower. He enjoyed the cool water for a moment until he felt a electrical charge behind his right ear. Grabbing the part he opened his mouth in pain no sound's escaping.
Chapter II
The War of Stalingrad
Larnegin suddenly heard the imperial anthem play at full blast in a mix of white noise and electrical pain. He Squealed out in pain, like a kicked dog, he turned off his internal implant, breathing heavily in pain. “Hey you alright?” A curious, kind voice called out, likely just a passing soul. “Yeah! Ju- just my implant.” He replied stuttering a bit, “Should get that checked out man.” The other called out calmly, then Larnegin heard his feet slap away.
Sighing in sudden relief as the pain passed, it was like a migraine had suddenly left or a brain freeze ending. Sighing he rubbed his shaven scalp and cleaned himself. Once he was through he pulled on his towel. Cinching it tightly like a toga, and left to the locker room. Janeson was flirting with a fellow guardswoman while he tied his boots up, and she put on her button up dress shirt. Larnegin just smiled and put on his own uniform. He smiled at his neatly pressed and starched combat uniform. Like the one he had worn on that accursed planet before........
Breaking his mind of thought roughly, he began pulling on his under gear, happily pulling on his camo pattern, dark green and black fatigues. Then he got his long sleeved shirt on that was a nice clean woolen black and felt pleasant and warm. Then his great coat. His amazing navy blue and white trench coat. Pulling it over his shoulders reverently he smiled ear to ear as he buttoned it up. With the final touch grabbing his dress cap and put it smartly on his head. All that was left were his standard issue combat boots and its thick woolen socks.
All dressed up he felt safe like a turtle in the high necked collar of his trench coat. “You look like a Crashak!” Janeson said slapping Larnegin on the back and he smiled wide, chuckling as he spoke, “It feels good to be in full uni- Wait why the hell am I in full uniform?” Larnegin looked in the mirror. Then he saw Janeson was in full uniform, “What the fuck-?” “All Vernestan Marines Guard Regiment, please report to the main auditorium, repeat please report to the auditorium in full gear. Thank you.” Janeson smiled at Larnegin, “How do they do that?” He said with a 'What can you do?' Smile. Larnegin just sighed and looking a bit downtrodden pointed to the implant in his head, “How do you think? They implant the thought in our minds. Not the last time either.” Janeson smiled, “On the bright side you look as handsome as you did when you first joined all those many years ago.” Larnegin smiled, “And you would know.” Sharing a laugh together they went off to the main Auditorium.
The main Auditorium was a vast room and made to seat nearly a hundred thousand persons for a briefing. Perhaps more even, for the scale was lost on the adjusted soldiers of the Imperium. To them this was the average hall they formed up to attack a planet on a drop ship. Usually full to capacity too, so this was nothing compared to that. “Quiet down please.” A voice spoke from a raised podium perhaps a dozen meters in the air. Almost immediately everyone looked up to the voice and fell silent with all the discipline a veteran unit of their status would show to a superior officer.
The voice came from a aging woman, with black sleek hair, Stunning green eyes, about 5'4 in height, and blue oval tortoise glasses, obviously of great age from her look, but she looked as strong as if she were twenty. No visible bionics or even marks of Rejuvenation technology. It hardly mattered as she started her briefing, “Welcome 10th Vernestan Marines Imperial Guardsmen Regiment, to your briefing room and your first mission under the Unnamed organization. Your training has progressed well enough and we deem you fit for action in this mission.” Falling silent she smiled at them all, her face magnified by a holographic system that surrounded the podium. “My name is Dr. Elizabeth Swan of the high command of the Unnamed. I will be your link to high command for all your future missions unless specified otherwise.”
The image around the podium changed to black and white pictures of life in a world similar but also very different to the one they knew, “Your ancestors on earth, were called the Russians. They came from the land of Russia in the eastern part of the continent of Europe on the planet Earth. In the year 1941, two years after the start of the greatest war to occur on the planet Earth before the invention of space technology.” She frowned, and then she started to described in almost excruciating and horrible detail the build up to the war, reasons, preparation of the Russia's terror regime to invade the Germans but then took the sweet old innocent act after being invaded first, (and being absolutely crushed,) just two weeks in advance apparently before they would attack themselves, and all of it made everyone evidently angry and disgraced that soon as the Dr. said, they would be fighting for the very same regime. Then they got to the brutality of the German S.S. Showed pictures, videos even, of executions, murder, and worse. Some of the men were crying in despair, even though they had seen worse. But they could not bring their eyes off the sight. Larky just looked horrified himself and Larnegin wanted to fall to his knees in despair. It went on and on and just as they all thought they were going to kill themselves it stopped. “You know why this siege must not succeed. If they break through here, you will lose. You will not lose.”
The map came up now, “The battle for Stalingrad. The most horrible fighting that you will probably ever engage in for a long time. The battle is similar to what you have probably experienced in the guard, the doctrine the same, even more brutal possibly.” Suddenly a long list of names scrolled by, “This list is of all those who must survive the battle. They are going to be in squads you are located in. Your main objective is to ensure their survival, at any cost. Failure is an option, but a very painful one that must not occur if you can prevent it in any way.” The briefing went on about weapons, usage, ammo types, Etc. It just went on and on about all of it. Then they learned local dialects, names, other cultural things of import and more even. Then they were dismissed and sent to prepare for war after what seemed like hours.
Larnegin and Janeson left side by side in full dress like the men besides them. On their retinas they read the names of those who they would have to protect, “Alexandr Sokolov, Tanya Pavelona, Igor Kiven, god thats it?” Janeson nodded, “For us I guess, you saw how many names we all have to handle.” Jacky bumped into Larnegin, purposefully. Walking besides them she smiled at them both, “First times always a kick to the gut. You never get used to it. The docs always have to be a stickler with the details.” They both looked at her annoyed and also a bit insulted. Jacky smiled, “Get used to me, I'm joining your squad.” Larnegin cursed in his language and she laughed, repeating to him in his language, “Следи за языком мальчика.” Meaning “Watch your mouth boy”. Shutting up reluctantly he mumbled incoherently and spitefully.
They all were lead to the weapons range and given their weapons. The Mosin Nagant rifles. Each rifleman was given the standard issue Mosin-Nagant M91/30, just called Mosins by the Russian forces which they had already memorized to use thanks to the briefing. The sergeants and other higher ups were given the PPSh-41 and a rifle to use. “Alright listen up! To adapt to combat situations, you will all be given one clip of ammo at first. Make each shot your last boys!” Staff Sergeant Johnson shouted as he got his own and distributed ammo. Immediately the targets snapped up with a klack, several appearing behind cover and out in the open. Already Larnegin's squad was at the fire step. On his knee he raised the rifle simultaneously with everyone else with a drilled practice that everyone had in their minds from their original training years ago when they were first inducted. “Aim for the targets!” Johnson shouted. Behind him Larnegin felt Jacky's uneasy presence, watching. “FIRE!” Larnegin snapped to a target and squeezed the trigger. He hit his target, the closest one about 3 meters away. But many others didn't, “Pa-The-Tic!” Johnson spelled out symbolically as he pointed at three men who did not even get close, as he looked at the targets, “Next squad! Were doing this until you can't keep your eyes open, or you hit with every single bullet!” He yelled and waited for the next group of men to get to positions, “Ready! FIRE!” He screamed out as if yelling over the sounds of war. He seemed more then adept at doing such a great feat.
Larnegin waited for a few minutes, watching as each squad got to position, five crouching, five standing. It reminded him vividly of the wars from before, the battles of Klindof, and the trench battle at Sixt major against cultists. He saw that their accuracy was currently poorer then what it normally was. Likely because of the unfamiliar weapons they were using. He was not used to the wooden stock and the weight of the rifle, having over compensated for the previous shot. Then it was his squads turn for firing again. This time standing he looked down the sights, time seemed to slow for him as he focused, held his breath, then he heard the cue, “-FIRE!” Snapping almost instantly to a target he slowly squeezed the trigger. Squeezing the trigger is better to do then snap, twitch, jerk, or anything of the sort since it will throw off your aim. He smiled as he saw he hit the target dead center in the chest. Already he was kicking up the bolt, pushing it roughly forward, curling his pinky to pull back, then snap shut. He did it lighting quick, having those around him suddenly look over in surprised as they heard the, “Pak- klack-cookh-puck” Looking around he was surprised to see that. Johnson was way too busy chewing out a couple guys for only nicking the target or outright missing. “Wow Larn.” Janeson said as he looked at him in disbelief. Looking at the gun, he actually chipped the cheap pig iron on the bolt itself.
This went on for what felt like a couple hours. The men's hands were sore and bruised and even cut and bloody from the constant use of the bolt actions but they were now masters at it almost. They had learned to fire it faster then normally, how to clean it, maintain it, how to conserve scarce ammunition, and more. They also got to play around a bit with the Kar 98K but beyond the usage, loading and a couple firings they were left with little else in that regard.
Johnson looked them all over and then stopping at the end of the line smartly he yelled, “Dismissed!” And with that they all dispersed to go to their rooms. Larnegin hoped to avoid the others questions about him cycling the bolt so quickly. He failed. “Larn!” Janeson called out, as he caught up to him, “How did you do that? That was unbelievable what you did.” He smiled, Larnegin didn't. He shook his head, “I don't know, but I'd rather not talk about it.” And with that he ended it for the day, with a unsatisfied and confused Janeson behind him kicking the wall a bit in surprise.
All Larnegin wanted was another shower, a bottle of Amasec, and to be rid of Jacky for the night. Course fate had other plans.............. ......
Chapter III
The Wrath of a Nation
Larnegin was tying up his boots, nice, snazzy, clean. He could smell the leather on them. His clothes were a disgusting green, and he had a small cap for his head. He hated them already, and he knew he was to fight a city battle in them for what could possibly be months. And he didn't even have FLAK ARMOR. Flak Armor, the cardboard of armor for the entire universe he once served in. The music in his mind flitting by nearly unnoticed as he just shook his head. He made to leave his room, but he stopped long enough to scoop up his rifle. Sighing heavily he left his spartan accommodations..... ..
…... And ran right into Jacky, “Come on slow ass! Lets get moving!” She said cheerily. She looked down at him from her height, a meter higher then him. She was dressed in a obviously hand made uniform, made from several other uniforms. Apparently they were going to go for the fact she had a growth problem. He just ground his teeth and bit back a series of curses and shouts of anger, and marched on towards the deployment deck.
Jacky wouldn't shut up! She kept singing traditional Russian songs and others, loudly trumpeting it as she carried along her rifle like a marching baton, which was ridiculously dwarfed in her massive paws of hands. He could just imagine how in brutal close combat she would be, like a ogryn, he imagined, as he saw the bulky shit brained creatures able to hug to death a Tyranid Ravenor. He thought that Jacky could kill a hive tyrant with her size and smarts. Best just to swallow his pride and let her have her quirky way.
Janeson joined them, smiling wide he soon began to sing along to Jacky, her arm around his shoulders, and his around her back, it was as if they were drunk, singing loudly and poncing around like a pair of pansys. He just skulked compared to them, walking along embarrassed by them. Then Janeson pulled him close as he sang loudly. Sighing Larnegin joined in singing along unwillingly with them.
It was not long before they entered the deployment room. Inside many troopers were milling around, working on their guns, chatting. Seeing the sight of three singing troopers, one ridiculously tall, the other two average sized. They all laughed at that, a few even joined in with the well known and well loved Janeson. A kind man when he joined, and seemingly kinder man after years of war. It was joked that if a commissar shot him, the very same man would be found shot with his own bolt pistol.
A couple of the men lifted the trooper up on their knees as he lead a chorus in song to their anthem as they marched over to the deployment room's doors. Their ecstatic singing carrying over into the bolted room. Larnegin was unsure of how the Unnamed properly implanted their operatives let alone a force their size without being caught or seen. But as he saw the doors open, his mouth and everyone else dropped open in awe, except for Jacky who just smiled at their ridiculous faces.
The chamber's size was massive, but that was not the amazing part, throughout the entire place were teleportation platforms. Giant ones, able to convey whole platoons worth of men. Their handler was there, the doctor, Elizabeth Swam. Smiling she waved her hand to crackling fields all around, “Welcome Marines! Welcome to your DDD, Or Deep Deployment Device. Your In-field handler, Donovan, is already in deep cover as a Commissar. Your neural links have been updated. As well as opponents you must kill and objectives that must be achieved as you progress.
She smiled darkly, and removing her glasses with precision she called out, “Staff Sergeant Johnson! You have command. Split them as you see fit!” And like that Johnson called out. “Alright you maggots! Get into squads! Get into Platoons! You won't be with them long but you better get to action now! Times wasting and we don't want to keep the fascists waiting now do we!” He called out and all the men called out a warcry, “That's the spirit! Now move out!”
Larn was carried along in the press. The men around were moving forward, eager and with rifles in hand, many didn't even have that much, just knives in hand. Due to the Soviet's lack of weapons it would be strange to see nearly 300 men just suddenly pop up with weapons and ammo. “Squad A in Platoon 1! Get on the first pad! Squad B! You know the drill. When first platoon is away, second get onto the pads! Charge boys! For the glory of the Unnamed and for mother Russia!” Johnson had gotten a megaphone, and had a different look. Looking like a commissar he had a PPsH smg, and a Tokarev pistol as his side arm. The little thing didn't look very imposing but no one wanted to test it without any armor. “With me comrades!” Sergeant Huolder called out, raising his rifle up and yelled out a cry as he lead his personal squad up onto the pad. A few seconds later after Color sergeant Yukonev pulled himself up with the sickle and hammer, (As the men began to call the flag), they disappeared in a wash of static and electrical power. “Go now and show them hell!” Jard called out, leading Larnegin's squad now as he pushed forward. Larn had no second thoughts, Jacky jumping up like it was a little step She pulled both Larn and Janeson up. “Come on boys! Lets kick some Nazi ass!” Leading the cry they were teleported to a barren place that shunned such calls. On the opposite side of the Volga they appeared, getting in line quietly, for the boats to cross the river.............. .
Hello my lovely fellow readers! It is I! Blood Raven, with a story announcement. I should have the next chapter done by monday so you won't have to wait long.
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