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Surf a Flood of random discussion.

10/14/2006 9:53:18 AM
432

The Flood 4: Parallel Worlds

[b]The Insertion.[/b] The moon looked down on it all. A hazy, thick blanket tucked in close to the ground, as though it were a duvet warming up a child in winter months. From simply looking at the moon, and the sparkling mass of stars clustered above and beyond it, you wouldn’t know a war was on. Looking lower, and if you knew they were actually knew they were there in the first place, a trio of black, almost invisible planes glided seemingly without effort above the low level cloud layer. A larger transport plane, accompanied by a pair of smaller, sleeker escorts. On command, the two escort fighters peeled off from the transport, that was startlingly quiet for its size, and flared their afterburners. Specks of light amongst the dark they sped off east, towards a monumental battle in the skies, where jets screamed around at ridiculous speed, engaging one another in elegant rolls and dives, blasting away at one another in a deadly aerial combat. Quietly, the transport carried on without an escort, confident that the greatest in radar spoofing technology and stealth equipment would keep it hidden. But what really mattered was within the plane itself. Secured firmly by strong magnetic locks that were connected to a pair of rails stood a bipedal machine, fully the size of two men with one man standing on the first’s shoulders. It was expected to be the last fully operational unit of its kind in this entire region, or so intelligence said. Red markings that had once adorned it’s armour had been replaced with the occasional blue stripe, but little broke the jet black coating besides the single large, bright red eye and a pair of smaller ones to the left of it on the metal rectangle that assumed the place of a head. A handful of mechanics and technicians dashed around, running last minute checks on armour and weaponry, especially the most potent of all armaments. The weapon in question was literally the latest of all developments. “The most secret and devastating device in development for this decade” many heralded it. Mounted onto the right shoulder, it was tubular with a circular cooling device attached to the back of the weapon. A technician had affectionately painted on a snarling set of teeth around the muzzle, and no one had wanted them removed. The interior hold was illuminated by a pair of baleful red lights on either side of the mechanical masterpiece, two of the technicians secured their equipment in specially prepared places and ran to seats and strapped themselves down whilst the third jogged to the rear of the craft, where the bay door stood closed. The man secured himself with a short tether and grasped the lever controlling the door. He looked up to the bipedal machine, shook his head and pulled the lever. Suddenly, the interior was filled with noise and the temperature dropped like a stone as the whooshing, freezing exterior found a way into the craft. Fighting the biting cold wind, the mechanic hit a red button, and with a deafening [i]clang[/i] the magnetic locks uncoupled and the machine raced along the rails and out of the hatch of the plane, falling away into the darkness. After a moment of free-fall the machine hit the cloud layer and carried on going, the thick layers of cloud parting like paper. It punched out the other side, and the pilot inside it immediately took stock of the locations below the vehicle. Breathing through a gas mask that fed him a constant supply of Combat Stimulants, the adrenaline inducing gases made his senses as sharp as that of any computer. The machine was heading towards the river bank opposite the ruins of Floodlin. From here, the man inside could see pinpricks of flame dotting the area, marking out where enemy artillery pieces had made their homes, but one stood out. A gargantuan column of flame made an impossible target to miss, and the machine rolled over to get a better angle of descent toward it. General Guscon was taking a tour of the front lines, accompanied by a handful of other Undergroundican leaders, and a force of bodyguards, he had come via a convoy of staff cars and Half-Track tanks to this, the greatest piece of military engineering he was likely to ever see, [i]The Marathon[/i]. He emerged, clapping wholeheartedly from a improvised bunker after he had witnessed the firing of his most potent artillery piece. “Excellent work! Where was that shell aimed at?” He shouted, ears ringing from the blast. “A concentration of Floodian forces in the east of the city, General. It is bizarre, the enemy gathers in large numbers, but does not strike our forces trapped in the city.” Replied a young adjutant. It angered Guscon, but he nonverbally admitted the young soldier was right. The entire reason that he had come to the frontlines in the first place was because of the disastrous turn of events in the enemy city. In the space of a few hours, Undergroundican troops in the city had been surrounded, cut off from the river and home, and were now being herded into an ever shrinking perimeter. It was hoped that by his arriving, the troops would rally and gain much needed morale. Guscon had a sinking feeling that Floodland no longer cared about the collection of forces stuck in the city-a full two thirds of the units in the entire sector-but cared more about striking out across the river. “What is [i]that[/i]?” Guscon asked, pointing out a slight patch of movement amongst the night. “It’s coming right for us. Quick! Get the convoy tanks! Hurry!” The adjutant shouted, panic in his voice. Shells and bombs were never that big, so something far worse must be en route, it would seem. The pilot had waited until the very last moment, with alarms bleeping and wailing all around. Relishing every moment of danger, he finally triggered the chemical boosters in the legs of the walking tank. With a slam far more powerful than any shell, the jets that folded out of the legs roared with the strain, nearly shearing off their positions with the energy of the halt. With his velocity slowed sufficiently, the pilot released the thrusters, and the now useless devices, along with the empty fuel tanks, sprang off the walker as explosive bolts attaching them detonated. The walker dropped to the muddy ground, sending clumps of semi-solid earth flying. The pilot had landed in one of [i]The Marathon’s[/i] firing pits, huge holes in the ground, dug with three tunnels leading in different directions. One heading West with a large railway to accommodate The Marathon and a similar one heading East. Another subterranean tunnel came from the North with a dirt road constructed for ammunition transport. But it wasn’t ammunition vehicles heading towards him, it was a quartet of Half-Track tanks with Heavy Machineguns bolted onto their hulls. They didn’t get a chance to fire. The Mech hefted it’s arms, and the two chain guns on each arm began to take them down. Rapid pelts of bullets rained down on the slowly advancing tanks, and their paper thin armour was torn apart in seconds, each one detonating as bullets ground through them, setting off ammunition, petrol or both. With the immediate threat out of the way, the walking tank turned to find the [i]real[/i] target. A truck filled with shells the size of houses next to the hulking Marathon, a pile of rail stock, there it was. The walker broke out into a run as it spotted around a dozen figures trying to sneak away, and they looked suspiciously like Undergroundican staff officers. One in particular looked like General Guscon. But a buzzing filled the area and suddenly, a Helicopter Gunship burst over a side of the firing pit, blasting immediately with everything it had. The Mech shrugged off the blaze of gunfire as though it were light rain, and brought the flying machine down in a return salvo. As the Helicopter fell, the Mech jumped up, landing before the fleeing party of Undergroundicans, and mowing them down, rendering the defenceless enemy into lumps of bloody meat and tatters of clothes. To finish the job, the pilot whipped the seemingly invulnerable walker around and charged up the wonder weapon. As if from nowhere, blue dots of light began to appear around the gun muzzle weapon. The Mech planted its feet firmly, and steadied itself as the blue dots were sucked into the gun itself. The temperature of the barrel soared, and the circular cooling device hissed superheated steam as it tried to keep up with the heat, if the weapon grew too hot, it would fuse and explode, not something that should be allowed to happen. With a blinding flash like a star exploding, the weapon discharged, and a crackling blue stream of energy scythed across the barrel of The Marathon, cutting it off entirely. The pilot changed the angle, and the beam vaporised a pack of terrified crewmen. The pilot turned the weapon slightly, and touched off a truckload of highly explosive shells. The entire area shook as though an Earthquake had arrived, and the shells exploded simultaneously, throwing lighter objects, humans and debris into the air. Feet planted firmly, the mech simply rode out the blast, and watched with satisfaction as [i]The Marathon[/i] was lifted off it’s tracks for a moment and crashed on its side with a screech of torn metal. Behind his gas mask, Corbec smiled at the destruction. “Mission Accomplished.” [Edited on 10/14/2006]
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  • Sorry! This was not a bump, just an honest mistake! Sorry for any problems caused! [Edited on 3/10/2007]
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Pyroshark I swear, if you were to tweak some characters' names and place names, I'm sure you could get these "books" published.[/quote] I doubt that. But hey.
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  • Sorry I've been gone so long, things have been getting a little hectic here and the recent re-screwal-up (congrats to me, I just invented a word) of my laptop isn't helping. Fantastic, Corbec! I love it! The ending was truly exceptional; I swear, if you were to tweak some characters' names and place names, I'm sure you could get these "books" published. And in response to your query about my "new project" - yeah, I'll try and get something up before Sunday. No guarantees, but I'll do my best. See ya at The Club. -Pyroshark-
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  • [quote]I hate having to argue with a moderator because this will most likely get me permabanned.[/quote] I'lll talk more about this in The Club. [quote][b] Wow Corbic I don’t know where you got the time to write all the chapters for the flood 4 and now have more time for the flood 5. I know I would not have the time and energy to keep writing and posting a story on bnet.[/b][/quote] it's tough, but half ter is coming soon, so I should be able to get it out when it starts.
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Great_Pretender [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Colonel Corbec To start off, get lost Recoil, Forum Cops never win.[/quote] If you bump your thread with irrelevant posts, you won't either. -TGP-[/quote] [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Colonel Corbec To start off, get lost Recoil, Forum Cops never win. Secondly, The Flood 5 will be out in perhaps two weeks, during the meantime Pyroshark will hopefully be releasing a spin-off story. Any questions regarding that should be sent straight to him. [/quote] I hate having to argue with a moderator because this will most likely get me permabanned. I don’t see how you classify corbics post as irrelevant due to the fact he included details to the flood five and a story pyroshark is writing that is similar to the flood strorys. [b]And now a relevant topic to the thread: Wow Corbic I don’t know where you got the time to write all the chapters for the flood 4 and now have more time for the flood 5. I know I would not have the time and energy to keep writing and posting a story on bnet.[/b]
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Colonel Corbec To start off, get lost Recoil, Forum Cops never win.[/quote] If you bump your thread with irrelevant posts, you won't either. -TGP-
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  • To start off, get lost Recoil, Forum Cops never win. Secondly, The Flood 5 will be out in perhaps two weeks, during the meantime Pyroshark will hopefully be releasing a spin-off story. Any questions regarding that should be sent straight to him.
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  • Half and half I guess.
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  • Are you with me or against me?
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  • Some of us frequent this thread, so conversations develop. Stop bumping this thread with irrelevant comments.
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  • That was the biggest "bump" I have ever seen. Stop bumping these threads.
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Xbox Halo Guy Nice happy ending. I was not expecting one of these slow endings for your story but I guess that’s best to keep every one happy. This is the first forums story I have read from start to end.[/quote] I'd been mulling over that ending for ages, altering and tweaking it little by little. Originally, I planned for Corbec to be at some kind of Mountain mansion by himself, but hey.
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  • Nice happy ending. I was not expecting one of these slow endings for your story but I guess that’s best to keep every one happy. This is the first forums story I have read from start to end.
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  • Where's everyone else?
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  • I mean that [b]The End[/b] would've made a good 'the', as opposed to [b]The Point In The Series Where The Author Realises He Can’t Put “The” At The Beginning Of Every Chapter.[/b], but I suppose your 'the' was funnier.
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] js2096 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Colonel Corbec [b]The Point In The Series Where The Author Realises He Can’t Put “The” At The Beginning Of Every Chapter.[/b] [b]The End.[/b] [/quote] Great chapter, I finally take sub command (to you), although it strikes me that the 'the' shown above would've made a good 'the' for the chapter. [/quote] Hwaa?
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Colonel Corbec [b]The Point In The Series Where The Author Realises He Can’t Put “The” At The Beginning Of Every Chapter.[/b] [b]The End.[/b] [/quote] Great chapter, I finally take sub command (to you), although it strikes me that the 'the' shown above would've made a good 'the' for the chapter.
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  • [b]The Point In The Series Where The Author Realises He Can’t Put “The” At The Beginning Of Every Chapter.[/b] Shoals of reef fish swam around without purpose or direction in the water, caught up in the lethargically laid-back lifestyle that ruled over their habitat. Their metropolis was an organic, undersea one, consisting of hundreds of different corals in a multitude of colours, types and sixes. Their home of coral surrounded a slab of rock, jutting at a parallel with the cliff out of the sea at a forty-five degree angle. The slab belonged to the nearby cliff, which formed the southern side of the island of Don Quixote. The small island lay within the Floodian waters of the Mediterbungian sea, but was as yet untouched by the ravaging hand of humankind. It was home to several discovered or undiscovered species, with forests, natural clearings, magnificent waterfalls, expansive views out onto the glittering carpet of azure that was the sea, beaches with golden sands and snowy peaks atop the extinct volcano which the island formed from. It was the epitome of natural beauty, the product of hundreds of thousands, if not millions of years of geological formation. The sun gleamed generously as it always did in this area, down through a cloudless sky and onto the perfectly clear sea. The only sound by the slab of rock was that of the waves gently lapping against the cliff. Then, another could be picked up, faint, but growing louder. Bit by bit it increased until a Jet Ski roared around the corner of the cliff, throwing up a wave of water behind it as it took a hard corner. Immediately behind it was a second Jet Ski, taking the corner at a similarly suicidal speed. The leading Ski sped ahead and hit the slab of rock, using it like some kind of launch pad. The rider pulled himself backwards and sent the Ski into a back-flip. It did a full spin and slammed back onto the water with a thump. The competitor turned away from the rock, delaying it by quite a measure. Corbec, piloting the leading Ski, risked a glance over his shoulder. The second Ski had no hope of catching him now. He faced front again and made the unnecessary risk of cutting through the shortcut offered by the gap in-between the cliff corner and a stack of rock which were once connected. This was the final stretch now, and the finish was within sight. The Ophelia, a two-decked, petrol powered yacht bobbed patiently in a wide bay. Corbec eased off the throttle, no point in rushing, I’ve already won, he thought. Then the engine rattled for the hundredth time since he began the race around the island. But unlike the other times, the craft didn’t carry on, it spluttered one final time and died. “What the hell!?” Corbec exclaimed and kicked the side with his foot. Nothing. He flipped open the plastic cover protecting the fuel gauge, fully aware his challenger was approaching. The gauge read empty, not a drop of fuel left. Corbec put two and two together, providing him with the answer as to what the hell had happened. The second Jet Ski slowed next to his and pulled over. “Something wrong?” Sally asked. With Sally’s towing the empty Jet Ski, Corbec hitched a ride to the Ophelia, conceding defeat. “I take it you siphoned the petrol out of my ‘Ski.” He asked, sure of the answer he would get. He was a tall man, towering over most of the people he knew even when he was but an eleven-year-old. He wore a pair of jet black swimming trunks and reflective sunglasses covering his bright blue eyes to match. His hair, plastered to his head by voluminous amounts of sea water was ordinarily blonde, but the blazing Mediterbungian sun had changed it to a stark white. But the sun hadn’t just changed his hair colour, his in-shape body was heavily tanned, just like Sally’s. Sally herself was voluptuously thin, wearing a vibrant pink bikini outfit and sunglasses. Her wavy, dark-blonde hair was tied back into a ponytail. “Me? Do a thing like that?” She cried in mock surprise, almost looking offended. “How’s the lung?” Corbec asked. The question related to the almost lethal injury Sally had received in the final stage of the operation against the Grizzled Ancients. “I’m getting by.” She replied. The duo clambered onto the boat and made their way to the fore deck. On the way, Corbec kicked the lid of a cool-box open, retrieved two beer bottles, opened them and threw one to Sally. He closed the lid and they continued to the front. Waiting for them were two individual sun beds, both made of the finest Mahogany wood. Sally dropped into one and Corbec the other. “You know, I never thought that riding a machine that did all the moving for you could wear you out so much.” Sally remarked. The op. in the parallel world had been both a great success and a resounding failure. A handful of people had single-handedly eliminated the one immediate threat to the Empire, but nothing had really been gained from the venture. All of the Grizzled Ancient equipment in their command bunker had been either destroyed, or was immovable. Not that any of the strike team had been in a position to carry anything other than themselves by the end of things. All had received some injury on the expedition. Corbec had taken a thorough drubbing from Lehto in the final phase, who had broke almost all of his ribs, his left shoulder blade and the left collar bone. JS had lost most of the muscle in his left arm, guaranteeing it’s uselessness for years to come-it would have to be kept in a sling or some other form of support. Sol had taken a grievous injury, but not from the enemy. “The -blam!- Irish sonofa-blam!- shot my kneecaps out!” Sol had exclaimed. It seemed that: “The bastard popped an EMP grenade and was out of their before you could blink.” As Sol so eloquently put it. Pyroshark had disabled the Grizzled Ancients’ Worldwide Nanite system by detonating an EMP grenade right in its heart. In short, all of the Nanobots had simultaneously deactivated-including Corbec’s, thus making his already painful injuries almost unbearable. But no-one had been worse off than Sally. She may as well have worn tissue paper, given the amount of protection the Kevlar had provided. Lehto’s gargantuan bullet had passed clean through her, taking most of Sally’s lower right lung with it. She had nearly died, and her damaged lung had to be surgically removed the moment she reached a hospital. The cavity left behind was filled with a specially designed foam until a replacement could be found and the hole in her body covered over with a plastic skin to hide the damage dealt. All of the Grizzled Ancients died in the bunker, taking their priceless knowledge with them. The confusion and chaos left behind by the now-defunct Nanites had made it easy for the Floodians to slip away and back to their world, despite their injuries. Mastersnake 117, the wounded soldier left behind to make his own way home was never seen again, presumed dead. Of Pyroshark, nothing was found, but Corbec presumed he was still live and kicking, given his unerring ability to survive all sorts of crap. Right now, a “Peacekeeping force of 1000 military ‘advisors” had been dispatched to Ireland to secure the portal area around Downaport, using the cover story of Undergroundican ultra-national terrorists funded by foreign powers operating on the island as justification for their arrival. No mention was made that most of the Irish people were dead. This was set to be part of Corbec’s plan to expand his beloved empire. JS had been promoted personally by Corbec to become commander of all Floodian special forces (exempting Xbox Halo Guys’ MI5 and 6 intel agencies.) Sol 249 retired the armed forces with his shot-up kneecaps and Sally and Corbec returned to the throne as though nothing had happened. “Did you see my jump back there?” Corbec said at length. “Meh, you have some skill.” Sally begrudgingly admitted. She swigge d her beer. “But Corbec.” She continued. “What do we do now?” “What now?” Corbec thought. “Now, you and me Sally? We conquer the world.” [b]The End.[/b]
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  • [i]...Catastrophic Xbox Halo Guy shutdown imminent![/i] [i]...Shutdown at this time not advised[/i] [i]...Immediate shutdown will erase all memory data. Continue?[/i] [i]...Memory backups installing...[/i] [i]...Install-[/i] XBOX HALO GUY MEMORY PROCESSOR SHUTDOWN. ALL MEMORY SAVE-FILES DELETED. [Edited on 1/25/2007]
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Colonel Corbec [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Xbox Halo Guy Awesome chapter anyway! Is next part the final part?[/quote]I have no idea whatsoever[/quote] [i]…Load CorbicFlood4.exe …Location = http://www.bungie.net/Forums/ …Run File? …File Executing …Loading Chapters …Analysing Chapter 1-5 …Analysing Chapter 5-10 …Analysing Chapter 10-15 …Analysing Chapter 15-20 …Analysing Chapter 20-25 …Analysing Chapter 25-30 !!Error!! Chapters Beyond 25 Not Present …Abort? … CorbicFlood4.exe Aborted …Load AbuseCorbic.exe …Run File?[/i]
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Xbox Halo Guy Awesome chapter anyway! Is next part the final part?[/quote] I have no idea whatsoever [quote]New Mombasa > The flood, its that simple. We are gonna be pwning some floodians this weekend, if you wish to stop your group from looking totally aweful join this group and help them out[/quote] What. The. Hell.
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  • New Mombasa > The flood, its that simple. We are gonna be pwning some floodians this weekend, if you wish to stop your group from looking totally aweful join this group and help them out [url]http://www.bungie.net/Forums/posts.aspx?postID=9806446&viewreplies=true&postRepeater1-p=2#end[/url]
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  • I hate it when you submit massive chapters! I have to read all of it otherwise I lose my place. Please make future chapters smaller. Awesome chapter anyway! Is next part the final part?
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  • Yeah, anyway. I might get the final part out soon, definitely not tomorrow, I won't be able to get even my homework done tomorrow!
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Colonel Corbec I will hasten to add a few things. 1.) I have a horrible regional debate competition thing coming up next week, so I won't be on on Monday or Tuesday, I'll be off debating against Eaton when I should really be doing my homework. 2.) The story is not yet over.[/quote] It's all good, you've given us a hefty and well written chapter to mull over, so kudos to you.
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  • I will hasten to add a few things. 1.) I have a horrible regional debate competition thing coming up next week, so I won't be on on Monday or Tuesday, I'll be off debating against Eaton when I should really be doing my homework. 2.) The story is not yet over.
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