MAIN » ARTICLESThe Iain (Rawson) Experience, part X: Vol. 3
"Drunken fiends!" yelled the captain of the troopers, "Jenovich! Suppressing fire on the vent, two hundred metres!". The captain rolled his way across the corridor to his comm team, cursing the suits who ordered his team into this death trap as he went.
"No signal cap", calmly remarked the corporal with the communications equipment, "we're getting too much interference, the sort that can only be caused by a suppression field".
He knew that was no suppressing field, but best not to tell the boys the truth. The captain and his squad had been to some of most evil places and conducted the most devious of operations. Nothing would prepare them for the truth, however.
Another dozen or so of those hell-spawned midgets had made their way to the makeshift barricade. Rifle fire snapped all around the Captain, it was almost serene to him.
A thousand hours of VR training to assassinate the so called "heinous Doctor Rog" were wasted. He had the perfect neck shot lined up when the first of the things came from no where and sank its teeth into his ankle.
He had managed to get the shot off, a wildly inaccurate bullet that tore through the dithering cretins' colon. A crazed Mujahideen could have done better damn it, the colon!
The doctor had then tucked himself into the very air vent the things where coming out of, almost like they were protecting him.
His team were running low on clips and the things just didn't stop coming. The suits had sent him to his death, like a rook sacrificed for a pawn to have a shot at the queen. Except the queen was far from dead, it was about to be stumbled upon by a man with a hole in his colon, a man whose death was planned even before he had memories. Is this to be the end of Captain Walling?
Extract from ‘The Diary of Dr. Rog’: Week 667, Day 4598
I tumbled into a small ovular room, it was dark and dank. Something moist lined the floor, yet the nature of the substance was indeterminable. I fumbled blindly in the pitch-black for a light switch or torch. Finding nothing I crept forwards on my hands and knees, I put my hand in something that felt like one of Dr. Randy's jalapeño and prawn pizzas. When the backup lights flickered on I realised to my untold horror that it was not one of Dr. Randy's jalapeño and prawn pizzas. It was actually a slice of Dr. Shields' mashed potato and 99 flake baguettes, was there no low unto which that freak-minded simpleton would stoop?
Pausing for just a moment I took in the details of my surroundings. Dammit! I had found the cause for the sweet fluid on the floor, it was the nutritious goo™ that my beloved specimen fed from! Without the nutritious goo™ the specimen would surely be doomed. I thought for a while about where there would be any more sweet nutritious goo™, ordinarily Operations Deck 5 storeroom Alpha would have been my first port of call but Technician Hardcastle drank the entire stock of nutritious goo™ for a bet.
I cursed my self for not thinking of it sooner. Sweeping up the specimen from its broken economy-size jam jar I sprinted in leaps and bounds towards the emergency escape vessel.
The whole damn building was coming down around me. I leapt over a falling girder, slid through a gap in the collapsed rubble and rolled through the glass window of the observation room. I fell.
My knees sank six inches into the soft earth below. For a second I was dazed by the quick fall but then the adrenaline kicked in and my vision turned back to the grotesque ultra-sharp high-definition freak show that this episode of my life had become.
There were more of those creatures at the launch site, on reflection perhaps they were drawn to the place by the specimen? I must research this when possible. Groundsman Kent was doing a good job of holding them off until one of them bit him in the face, I had a feeling that was the last we would see of him but I had thought that of Kent before and been wrong.
I ran the last fifty yards and dived into the shuttle, Dr Jameson was waiting for me on the other side. “Nika tima Dokter Rugery!” exclaimed the heavily accented Jameson. “I no tink anyone mo make it through that bro, tima to closa the door.”
I paced over to the specimen storage facility and carefully placed the brain into the chute, it shot off to god knows where but at least it was safe. I could relax now.
Dr Jameson had closed the door and sat in the pilot seat.
“Sit tight naw!”
He pressed the ignition button; I fainted due to the pain in my colon.
The Odyssey had begun.
Written by Randy
"No signal cap", calmly remarked the corporal with the communications equipment, "we're getting too much interference, the sort that can only be caused by a suppression field".
He knew that was no suppressing field, but best not to tell the boys the truth. The captain and his squad had been to some of most evil places and conducted the most devious of operations. Nothing would prepare them for the truth, however.
Another dozen or so of those hell-spawned midgets had made their way to the makeshift barricade. Rifle fire snapped all around the Captain, it was almost serene to him.
A thousand hours of VR training to assassinate the so called "heinous Doctor Rog" were wasted. He had the perfect neck shot lined up when the first of the things came from no where and sank its teeth into his ankle.
He had managed to get the shot off, a wildly inaccurate bullet that tore through the dithering cretins' colon. A crazed Mujahideen could have done better damn it, the colon!
The doctor had then tucked himself into the very air vent the things where coming out of, almost like they were protecting him.
His team were running low on clips and the things just didn't stop coming. The suits had sent him to his death, like a rook sacrificed for a pawn to have a shot at the queen. Except the queen was far from dead, it was about to be stumbled upon by a man with a hole in his colon, a man whose death was planned even before he had memories. Is this to be the end of Captain Walling?
Extract from ‘The Diary of Dr. Rog’: Week 667, Day 4598
I tumbled into a small ovular room, it was dark and dank. Something moist lined the floor, yet the nature of the substance was indeterminable. I fumbled blindly in the pitch-black for a light switch or torch. Finding nothing I crept forwards on my hands and knees, I put my hand in something that felt like one of Dr. Randy's jalapeño and prawn pizzas. When the backup lights flickered on I realised to my untold horror that it was not one of Dr. Randy's jalapeño and prawn pizzas. It was actually a slice of Dr. Shields' mashed potato and 99 flake baguettes, was there no low unto which that freak-minded simpleton would stoop?
Pausing for just a moment I took in the details of my surroundings. Dammit! I had found the cause for the sweet fluid on the floor, it was the nutritious goo™ that my beloved specimen fed from! Without the nutritious goo™ the specimen would surely be doomed. I thought for a while about where there would be any more sweet nutritious goo™, ordinarily Operations Deck 5 storeroom Alpha would have been my first port of call but Technician Hardcastle drank the entire stock of nutritious goo™ for a bet.
I cursed my self for not thinking of it sooner. Sweeping up the specimen from its broken economy-size jam jar I sprinted in leaps and bounds towards the emergency escape vessel.
The whole damn building was coming down around me. I leapt over a falling girder, slid through a gap in the collapsed rubble and rolled through the glass window of the observation room. I fell.
My knees sank six inches into the soft earth below. For a second I was dazed by the quick fall but then the adrenaline kicked in and my vision turned back to the grotesque ultra-sharp high-definition freak show that this episode of my life had become.
There were more of those creatures at the launch site, on reflection perhaps they were drawn to the place by the specimen? I must research this when possible. Groundsman Kent was doing a good job of holding them off until one of them bit him in the face, I had a feeling that was the last we would see of him but I had thought that of Kent before and been wrong.
I ran the last fifty yards and dived into the shuttle, Dr Jameson was waiting for me on the other side. “Nika tima Dokter Rugery!” exclaimed the heavily accented Jameson. “I no tink anyone mo make it through that bro, tima to closa the door.”
I paced over to the specimen storage facility and carefully placed the brain into the chute, it shot off to god knows where but at least it was safe. I could relax now.
Dr Jameson had closed the door and sat in the pilot seat.
“Sit tight naw!”
He pressed the ignition button; I fainted due to the pain in my colon.
The Odyssey had begun.
Written by Randy