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Dream Log: Kill or Die
Jun. 3rd, 2011 12:06 amMe and the rest of the 71st Rifles Platoon jogged into the hangar. Sergeant Hibbett called a halt and a parade rest. I stood with boots spread apart and my needle rifle over my shoulder. I was breathing heavily; we were all wearing full combat armor. 71st Rifles was about to go into the meat grinder.
Lieutenant Csonka joined Hibbett at the front of the hangar and surveyed the four squads of his platoon critically. He listened to a woman in a white coat who whispered in his ear, then checked his watch.
"Okay, ladies," grunted Csonka. "We've got less than five minutes before the TWIG opens. Ours is a serious mission – very dangerous, very difficult – but survivable if we're smart and don't fuck up. So listen up, because here's how it's going to go down."
Hibbett unfolded a laminated map. "The far end of the TWIG opens here, at the top of Hill 246. Lightly wooded area, slopes down over three quarters of a mile to here – a single story masonry block building where the Zhizhi Generator is housed. It's well defended; they've got a full company and they're dug in. We'd love to mass troops but there's no time; we've got to hit them with what we have on hand, and that's you. Everybody we know, everything in the universe, is counting on our success."
Everybody knew the score. It was the 23rd century. A rogue state had sent agents back to the 22nd century to trigger a global war, effectively changing the future. This orphaned the 23rd century that I lived in, effectively separating us from the timestream. We only had a short period of time to go back and repair the gap, or the unraveling of time would propagate forward and write us out of existence.
The trouble was, that same rogue state had set up a Zhizhi Generator ten years after the global war. The Generator made it impossible to travel through time to any period before it; some sort of time-space interference screwed up the carrier wave that supported a Two-Way Interchronal Gateway, or TWIG for short. There was only one thing we could to: travel back to where the Generator was and destroy it. But there wasn't much time.
( Read more... )
Lieutenant Csonka joined Hibbett at the front of the hangar and surveyed the four squads of his platoon critically. He listened to a woman in a white coat who whispered in his ear, then checked his watch.
"Okay, ladies," grunted Csonka. "We've got less than five minutes before the TWIG opens. Ours is a serious mission – very dangerous, very difficult – but survivable if we're smart and don't fuck up. So listen up, because here's how it's going to go down."
Hibbett unfolded a laminated map. "The far end of the TWIG opens here, at the top of Hill 246. Lightly wooded area, slopes down over three quarters of a mile to here – a single story masonry block building where the Zhizhi Generator is housed. It's well defended; they've got a full company and they're dug in. We'd love to mass troops but there's no time; we've got to hit them with what we have on hand, and that's you. Everybody we know, everything in the universe, is counting on our success."
Everybody knew the score. It was the 23rd century. A rogue state had sent agents back to the 22nd century to trigger a global war, effectively changing the future. This orphaned the 23rd century that I lived in, effectively separating us from the timestream. We only had a short period of time to go back and repair the gap, or the unraveling of time would propagate forward and write us out of existence.
The trouble was, that same rogue state had set up a Zhizhi Generator ten years after the global war. The Generator made it impossible to travel through time to any period before it; some sort of time-space interference screwed up the carrier wave that supported a Two-Way Interchronal Gateway, or TWIG for short. There was only one thing we could to: travel back to where the Generator was and destroy it. But there wasn't much time.
( Read more... )
