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New Recruits Tend To Drown A Lot
Ranger Six

[table of contents]
Combat Report - February 28th, 2040
Personnel deployed to combat zone:

Yana: All right, people, look sharp. Nighttime terror missions are the worst kind, so use your Chemical Flares wisely. I'll be controlling the Coelecanth using the telepresence rig in the command center, but keep in mind - these things are expensive. Try not to let it get blown up, mmmkay?

(WHIRR-THUNK)

Kwas: Well, there doesn't seem to be anything in this garage.

(WHIRR WHIRR WHIRR WHIRR WHIRR)

Yana: Hrm. Controlling this thing is harder than I thought.

(CLUNK CLUNK CLUNK)

Steele: Contact, by the dumpster!

(WHIRR-THWAP)

(CLUNK CLUNK CLUNK)

Steele: . . . He vanished back into the shadows.

Yana: *in an obviously-fake British accent* I say, nads, be a good chap and lob a phosphor round off that way, would you?

(PSHEWW-CLUNK)

nads: Erm, oops. That was an AP round.

Yana: . . . nads, you IDIOT. I told you to load phosphor rounds!

Costello: Never mind, I see the Eek. Taking the shot.

(WHIRR-THWAP WHIRR-THWAP)

Deep One: GURHURGLE.

Costello: He's down for the count.

Steele: There's another one of those grey buggers in that warehouse.

(KSSHOW-CRACKLE)

Steele: GYAAAH!

(WHIRR WHIRR WHIRR WHIRR WHIRR)

(PSHEWW-KAWHANG)

Gill Man: HURGH . . .

Yana: Ahh, there's no kill like overkill.

Kwas: Hey, there's another one of those grey things up in that office. I'm going to set it on fire, heh heh!

(PSHEWW-CRUMP)

Kwas: The room is on fire, but we don't need no water. Let the motherfucker burn!

(WHIRR WHIRR WHIRR WHIRR WHIRR)

Yana: . . . A crate labeled "Top Secret: X-Com". No wonder the Aliens are attacking Anchorage.

(WHIRR WHIRR WHIRR)

(PSHEWW-KAWHANG)

Gill Man: HURGH . . .

Yana: Dum dum dum, another one bites the dust . . .

Costello: Contact, by the warehouse!

(WHIRR-THWAP)

Gill Man: HURGH . . .

(POINK-CRACKLE)

Costello: The fuck did that shot come from?!

nads: Probably deeper in the warehouse.

(KA-KLUNKA)

Myst Rose: WHOA, SHIT! GREY BASTARD!

(WHIRR-THWAP)

Deep One: GURHURGLE.

Myst: Goddamn, that was close.

(WHIRR WHIRR WHIRR)

(PSHEWW-KAWHANG)

Deep One: GURHURGLE.

Yana: Yeah, you stay away from that crate!

(CLUNK CLUNK CLUNK)

nads: Hum-de-dum . . . oh, HELL-o!

(WHIRR WHIRR WHIRR)

Yana: Yeah, that thing I said about "stay away from the crate"? It goes for you too.

(PSHHEW-KAWHANG)

Gill Man: HURGH . . .

(KSSHOW-CRACKLE)

nads: YAAAGH!

Costello: NADS!

(WHIRR-THWAP)

(WHUMPH)

Costello: FIRE IN THE HOLE!

(WHABOOM)

Deep One: GURHURGLE.

(POINK-CRACKLE POINK-CRACKLE)

Costello: EEYAGH!

(CLUNK CLUNK CLUNK)

Princeps: Well, hello there.

(WHIRR-THWAP)

(WHUMPH)

Deep One: GURHURGLE.

Kwas: Nice shooting, Princeps.

Princeps: I was aiming for his head. Not the barrel.

(KSSHOW-CRACKLE)

(WHIRR-THWAP)

Gill Man: HURGH . . .

Princeps: Now THAT'S a headshot.

(WHIRR WHIRR WHIRR)

Yana: . . . MORE X-Com gear? Un-be-fucking-lievable.

(KAKLUNKA)

Kwas: Hey, Yana. Green guy by that door.

Yana: I see him. One-two punch?

Kwas: What I was thinking.

(PSHEWW-CRUMP)

(PSHHEW-KAWHANG)

Kwas: Anyone for spit-roasted Eek?

Princeps: Uh, no thank you.

(SIZZLE)

Tracy: Whoa, hey, grey bastard over by those oil drums!

Myst: I see him.

(WHIRR-THWAP WHIRR-THWAP WHIRR-THWAP)

Deep One: GURHURGLE.

Yana: All right, people, listen up. We've got two Eeks trapped on the top floor of the warehouse. We may not be able to get them both, so I want some of you to start gathering up the dead Eeks and taking them back to the transport.

Princeps: Sounds like a plan.

Tracy: *to the tune of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat"* Loot, loot, loot the Eek's dead and bloody corpse . . .

Myst Rose: Damn. This guy came loaded for bear.

nos: I see movement on the top floor.

Harkness/syd: FIRE IN THE HOLE!

(WHABOOM WHABOOM)

Gill Men: HURGH . . .

nos: That's the last of them.

Harkness: And about bloody time too.
18th Dec '10 5:02:45 PM flag for mods
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