Quick Note - A clue to a small side project

The following is a clue and a preview and a hint at a small side project I am working on when taking a break from the ever bigger Innsfjord. no rewards or prizes if you get what it is ... and no giving it away Mr +matt jackson.


“Yaris One! Repeat, Yaris One! This is Corporal Harold of the 3rd Hellreaver squad. We need air support at grid 125,941. I repeat we need …”
Harold’s voice cut off as the burning mass that was once the CSS Yaris Battle Frigate fell from the sky surrounded by the bio-illuminant plasma of Bug shooters.

The Corporal, now the ranking enlisted man in his squad fell back, his eyes wide and unbelieving as other points of burning CSS ships fell from the sky around him. In regular time the ground pulsed and shook with the violent power of each, individual crash. A few of the buildings nearby fell, but more managed to stay standing, a bit of human defiance at the end.

“Crap,” was all that managed to escape the Marine’s mouth as he picked himself back up and surveyed his surroundings, taking in all that he wished another could. But you’re it, Harold, just you. The Sarge, the LT … everyone else that could and liked to was dead. “Crap.”

There were only a few of them left, an entire division came in to this battle, certain of Bug defeat and as far as he could tell only half a squad remained.

Behind him the chain gun started again, the wind changed and the smell of burning, super heated metals and cooking meat flooded his senses. He bent and retrieved his weapon, looked around to see others doing the same.

“Someone find that M.A.R. …” His eyes feel on the giant exo-armor, half buried in the burning remains of what had once been an opera house. “Crap.”

He moved forward, tripping over rubble and trying to keep his eyes forward. The other men and women of his squad … Not many, he thought. Turned and looked to him. Looked to him the same way they used to look to Sargent Irdis. “Crap.”

“Listen up, people!” He bellowed to be heard over the auto-guns that protected them for the moment. “Listen up! There is no help coming. There are no miracles to be had this day.” He looked around him, at the dirty faces. “The acts of God are no match for the acts of mortal men anyway! “ This was insane, crazy … they were dead anyway. “We walked into this metropolis when it was whole and shining, now I ask … no I demand that you walk out of her while she and the Bugs who killed her burn!”

He hefted his rifle, his face a grim mask. “Are you with …”

… repeat, this is Sword of Hathor to any survivors … repeat this is Sword of Hathor to any survivors … to any CCS citizens, military or just plain human beings … we are secure but under heavy fire. Repeat, secure but under heavy fire. Find us, find us and we can get ho …

Harold looked back at the comm station. “Thank you, God” he whispered to himself, than to the remains of his squad. “It appears someone wants to prove me wrong. Well I don’t mind being proven wrong! You heard the radio Marines!” He checked the safety of his rifle, a wide boyish smile playing on his feature. “Let’s hunt some Bugs and get the hell home!”

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