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UGR: I'm Not Dead Yet (689 hits)

Category: General

Rating: 1.22 on 33 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by Wildcat (View user info) at 2006-06-19 10:55:59 EDT


Velan looked over the piece of flex paper that held the orders he'd received days before from his handler. He thumbed the hidden scrambler tab embedded in its top right corner, preparing his personal circuits for a contact download. It's outward appearance was a solicitation for a 5 night 6 day stay at a beach resort on some back water planet. In actuality it held all the intel on one Anders Tavish, a former Earth-born investment banker. Releasing a few security measures in his internal processor, the data began streaming.

"Velan," Mark said, " It's time to go."

Velan stood from the table he'd been sitting at in the mess deck. Unfocused eyes and lines across his brow showed that he was studying the data he'd just downloaded. The data gathered on the target scrolled across his vision and was rearranged and shuffled several times as Velan organized it. 'Extraction' read in red text. The powerful Morgan Chase and Brothers Bank on Earth meant for this part not to be missed. These always got messy.

The instructions were pretty standard issue. A simple infiltration job with the the T55 Dagger system. The target had supposedly purchased a decent protection package from one of the core world asset protection corporations; cameras and sensors linked to his internal processor, 5 to 8 freshly trained guards from their corporate boot camp and the high priced kidnapping recovery plan. That was Velan's only worry. Those recovery plans always meant highly trained, combat hardened specialists would barely be an hour away once the target felt endangered. This also meant the target has something of value, is something of value or both.

Usually jobs like this required him being shot down to the planet in one of the Daggers and then hoofing it to the job. The Dagger would be retracted back into the ship miles above the planet and the ship would leave. When the job was done he'd package his armor and gear up and send it back to his office via courier. A person can't exactly blend in at the ports and restaurants armed and armored.

This time though, the ship would remain because of the rural location of the target. It didn't have to run from the local airspace authorities.

The scorched metal door on the Dagger slid shut as Velan connected himself to the cables spider-webbed inside the cylindrical vessel. The mounting bolts on his synthetic armor creaked when the floor lowered below him and he dangled in the center of the Dagger from the cables. The humming of the mag-propel generator grew and a green light flashed in front of him.

Seconds later he struck terra firma with a sickening crunch. The green light flashed again and the webbing retracted from his suit, dropping him to the floor. Sunlight burst into the tiny compartment and Velan stepped out onto something soft and wet.

"Mark," he radioed.

"Yes?", Mark said.

"Did you aim for the cows or what?"

"No."

Velan had to grin. Mark didn't have much of a sense of humor and liked him for that.

The house was half a kilometer away on the other side of a small hill. He could see the local brown tiling of the roof from where he stood in the smoking ruins of what used to be two cows. The intel must have been collected by someone who practically walked right up to the house because from what he could tell, there's no possible way to have stealthily set up a recon operation.

The combat rifle clamped to his back sprung to life and swung over his shoulder and into place along his arm. It reactivated its magnetic attachments and articulated at his elbow to follow his natural movements.

From what he could tell from the hill, he could practically walk up to the front door and ring the doorbell. His sensor sweep told him that the mounted cameras were inactive as well as the ground sensor network. This was looking confusingly simple.

Checking his power levels and looking over the intel on Mr. Tavish once more, Velan got up from the hill and sprinted toward the house. The suit's system gave him a boost and pumped his legs faster than was natural as he ran down the hill at full tilt. Scanners still swept the house and told him only one person was within. Strange, he thought.

Studs shot from the soles of the boots when the suit sensed a change in direction and a wall coming up. Velan came to a sudden halt against the wall next to the back door of the house. He reached for the door handle and his scanners flashed alerts across his vision. Splinters exploded in every direction and half of his hand was blown off, leaving only the middle, index and thumb on his left hand.

"98% Efficiency" flashed across his vision as blood trickled from his hand. His internal processor cut off all incoming pain to his brain and boosted his adrenal level.

"I'm going to have to get that fixed.", he thought.

He bent his right arm and sent a few shots through the hole that had just been made. The inhabitant saw which side of the door frame he was on a second before Velan realized that the target must have received some personal upgrades not reported in the intel. Chunks of his shoulder and tricep flesh on his already wounded arm were liquified.

"92% Efficiency"

His internal processor was working overtime to mend the wounds and control the pain. Years of combat had taught him breathing control and heart rate risks in battle.

He'd had enough. He'd let the man be honorable and fight for his life. He'd received enough repentance for what was to come.

He reached around the door frame and sent four shots faster than anything the man had seen. Flesh splashed the wooden floor and blood spattered the walls. Anders Tavish lay on the ground prostrate, moaning and swearing at the gladiator walking through the rubble towards him.

"I...I...you should be dead!!!", Anders said.

"Marvels of modern plastics I suppose." Velan said as Anders noticed the strange sheen to his skin.

"You're just here to extract me. Take me away. Take me back to them." Anders moaned, surrendering.

"I don't think they want you, exactly." Velan said.

He reached down with his damaged and good hand and grabbed ahold of Anders' head.

"NO! I'M NOT DEAD YET! NO!" Anders screamed.

"I know." Velan said coolly, pressing a boot down on his chest and pulling on his head under the final sinew snapped and it came free.

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User Reviews


Submitted by URMY_bitch (user info) at 2006-08-12 10:10:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

No Comment

Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-23 13:31:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

Maybe this will help break the tie.

PS. Fuck you

Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-06-22 14:44:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

I can't decide which of these I like better. You two have a great little battle going.

Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2006-06-21 09:43:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

More of a 1.7454847632749ish but I'm rounding up.

Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2006-06-20 15:23:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Excellent.

Submitted by maiorano84 (user info) at 2006-06-19 20:48:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2


I actually liked this.

Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-06-19 20:21:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-06-19 17:03:42 (#)
Ranking: 0

"I'm going to have to get that fixed.", he thought.
----------
I wanted to point this out to you. I'm not sure if this is a typo or a real error.

The quote goes inside the quotation marks. You never use a period and a quotation mark.
============

"I'm going to have to get that fixed," he thought. That's the proper way.



Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-06-19 17:11:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

i meant comma. not quotation mark.

jesus i'm a dumbass. here's a one.

Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-06-19 17:03:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

"I'm going to have to get that fixed.", he thought.
----------
I wanted to point this out to you. I'm not sure if this is a typo or a real error.

The quote goes inside the quotation marks. You never use a period and a quotation mark.

Submitted by Heimdallsman (user info) at 2006-06-19 16:25:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-06-19 15:42:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

You know JonnyX likes the hard, techie stuff.

Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-19 14:36:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

I thought of Monty Python when I read the title.

Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-19 14:25:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

No Comment

Submitted by retrospect (user info) at 2006-06-19 13:57:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

thankyou

Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2006-06-19 13:48:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

interesting, not the best written story i've ever read, but very decent. a little bit on the confusing side...i know that's what you were going for, and as you read you understand more and more, but it just kind of didn't do it for me.

1.

Submitted by WildcatMcGee (user info) at 2006-06-19 13:32:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

You're a pretty strange, internet-argument dependent guy.

Get a life.

Submitted by retrospect (user info) at 2006-06-19 12:52:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

YOU CONTINUALY MAKE ME HAPPY I'M FROM UP NORTH.

Submitted by retrospect (user info) at 2006-06-19 12:51:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

you want to guage my maturity? the guy who most likely acted like a fourth grader whose father never hugged him to his wife, causing her to loathe/leave him? and you want to determine MY maturity level? you are cooked. and i dont know the whole story, or even if its true, but i know what you have told us, and that is what my assumptions are based on, just like yours. maturity?!?!?! BWAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAHAH

Submitted by WildcatMcGee (user info) at 2006-06-19 12:43:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No, just trying to figure out your maturity level. Of which, I'm rather confused. Age must be just a number.

Submitted by retrospect (user info) at 2006-06-19 12:38:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

are you gonna ask what zodiac sign i am next? buy me a drink?

Submitted by WildcatMcGee (user info) at 2006-06-19 12:32:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Retro, how old are you again?

Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-19 12:28:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

None of your ratings count- your reviews aren't worthy.



Submitted by retrospect (user info) at 2006-06-19 12:27:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

i like your first draft better, buddy...


HERE IS WILDCATMCGEEKS FIRST DRAFT

The woman smiled as she phoned O'mally & Sons Funeral Home. After getting the prices and placing the rest of his pitiful belongings into a shoebox, she smiled. Finally, she could be happy. This house could be happy. What a loser, she thought.

As her scorned lover walked in the house they still shared, she cringed. He looks at the papers she has in front of her. He sees the funeral schedule. "I'M NOT DEAD YET!" he cries.

Damn, it must have been a dream, she frowns.




and my rating is legit. worth reading. dont cry


Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-06-19 12:15:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

this is a nice piece, but the grammar and structuring is so off that it's a bit difficult to read.

Still enjoyable though. Worth Reading.

Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-06-19 12:02:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

http://www.ubersite.com/m/89310

returning the favor. I guess it's a favor

Submitted by hour_man (user info) at 2006-06-19 11:51:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by DCWoody (user info) at 2006-06-19 11:47:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

Decent.

Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-06-19 11:41:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-06-19 11:33:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by darko (user info) at 2006-06-19 11:10:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

homosexual (see above)

Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-19 11:07:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

Cocksniffer (See below)

Submitted by Wildman (user info) at 2006-06-19 11:04:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

tool............insurance
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v

Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-19 10:57:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

auto -2


Just squeeze your rage into a bitter little ball and release it at an
appropriate time. Like that day I hit that referee with a whiskey
bottle. 'Member that?

-- Homer Simpson
Whacking Day