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Hot Space Paratrooper Chicks...No TKL just yet

Scinsor

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Jul 2, 2005
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I took a rather long break from writing while I was down south training for my new MOS (military occupational specialty), but now that I'm off serving our glorious military in an even shittier environment I've had enough quiet time to myself to start writing another little story. A Starship Troopers/Aliens theme with erotic tickling fetish...goes together like M&Ms and beer. So sit back, crack open a cold one, and imagine my first sergeant telling me for the eleventh time that he ate nothing but MREs for two months straight during the first Gulf War. Enjoy.

Cpl. Scinsor, ARNG




1
Leviathan




“Life support functions activated. Primary systems engaged. Good morning Corporal.”

The soothing mechanical female voice issued from tiny speakers in Corporal Jim Dixon’s helmet, part of the advanced MCORPS Mark VII Infantry Combat Suit.

“I don’t see what’s so good about it, Marie,” he growled sleepily, shouldering his weapon as soldiers streamed past him, heading to the mess hall for a quick breakfast before final mission prep.

It was his first mission as team leader; the previous one, Cpl. Dickerson, had been blown apart by his own grenade on a standard training mission not three days ago. Then-Specialist Dixon was next in line for the position, so Command had promptly promoted him and all of a sudden Dixon was thrown into a leadership position he had never wanted. He felt sick to his stomach.

“You really ought to eat something Corporal,” Marie chirped in. She reminded Dixon of his mother.
“I’m not hungry,” he yawned.

The thought of any kind of food in his belly made him queasy. He always got nervous before a drop, but the idea of having the lives of other soldiers in his hands amplified the feeling by about a thousand times. Although he knew he would probably feel better if he ate, he figured that, considering his new responsibilities, it would be a good idea to be a bit early. He hurried down the long, brightly lit corridor of the Leviathan, toward the primary launch bay.

“Final mission preparation does not commence for another twenty minutes, Corporal. Why are we going now?” Marie wondered aloud.
Dixon grimaced. “Would you please stop calling me that, Marie? Can you just call me Jim?”

The computer seemed to consider for a moment. “Very well Jim. I wonder, why do you not prefer to be addressed by rank?”
“It hasn‘t even been three days since I‘ve been promoted. It still weirds me out a little.”
“I see,” Marie replied, “then you are uncomfortable in a leadership position.”
Dixon sighed. “You hit it right on the head Marie.”

“Corporal!” another female voice called. Dixon turned to see Private First Class Nicole Reese running up to him, cradling her helmet in one arm and her weapon in the other.
“I’m all ready Corporal!” the blonde, 19 year old girl said cheerfully, snapping to an awkward parade rest with her helmet and rifle behind her back.
Dixon rolled his eyes. “Nicole, please don’t call me that, you know I hate titles.” Nicole relaxed her stance, looking a bit confused.

“But, I can’t call you Jim anymore, I mean, that would be disrespectful wouldn’t it?”
Dixon shook his head. “Look don’t worry about it, okay? Just call me Jim.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, and hurried along to catch up with him.

Dixon couldn’t help but smile. Nicole had the most cheerful disposition of anyone he knew. She had a sort of sweet innocence about her, the kind that made her extremely easy to talk to. They walked to the bay together, Nicole telling him a story at a very rapid pace, something about her grandmother back on Gaia Prime. He wasn’t really listening, but she always had a way of calming his nerves, and just having her there made him feel better. Hopefully he would feel the same way when push came to shove.



“Listen up people. Are you listening to me? Huh? Or do any of you actually have the mental capacity to understand the words that are coming out of my mouth. Hello?”

Sergeant Ryan Slater, the squad leader for First Squad, stalked back and forth in front of his troops, who were all suited up and combat ready.

“Roger Sergeant!” Private Dallas yelled in his thick southern accent.
“Shut up!” Slater barked. Now listen people. This is a combat drop, do ya hear me…”

Blah blah, they had all heard this speech a thousand times, before every drop. It was part of the routine. This time, however, Dixon found himself paying rapt attention, desperate for any sort of last minute advice. He shifted nervously in place. The combat armor was extremely effective; strong enough to stop a .50 cal round or grenade shrapnel, but light enough that it didn’t weigh the soldier down even when carrying all of their battle gear. But it wasn’t very comfortable, and gave Dixon a distinct feeling of claustrophobia. He’d been wearing it for years now, every battle drill, every training exercise, every combat drop since boot camp, but he still felt strange whenever he put it on. It made him feel extremely bulky, as though he had blown up several times larger. It was very disorienting.

“Here’s the situation people,” Slater’s voice came drifting back. “We lost contact with the colony of EP759 at exactly 0437 hours a week ago. Now if any of you punks actually studied the mission report you’d know that colony’s one of Command’s most important sources of invincium ore. Obviously they need to find out what the fuck is going on down there, and guess who gets the honor of spearheading this mission for them? That’s right, you lousy sons of bitches.”

Dixon breathed a quiet sigh of relief. So it was just a recon mission. The mission report had made it sound as if the place would be swarming with hostiles. This would be a total blue milk run, the colonist were probably just having trouble with their generator.

Slater spit tobacco juice on the floor in front of them. “This is how its going down. On insertion, I’ll bring Team One around the northeast perimeter and secure and entrance. Dixon, you’ll take Team Two around back and establish a perimeter. Once that’s done I want you to send one man up the main entrance hall, here.” He pointed to a narrow shaft on the digital map, a small passage that connected the northeastern entrance to the rear of the compound.

Slater regarded Dixon with penetrating eyes, a look he always gave whenever he was trying to impress the importance of what he was saying on someone.

“Now, whoever you send up that corridor needs to have their tracker active. I don’t want anyone getting lost. And send the probe with him too, I don’t want anyone alone. When you’re man clears the main entrance hall, both teams will converge on his position. At that point we’ll receive further orders from Command. Is everyone crystal clear on this?”

They all nodded. “Roger Sergeant,” Dixon voiced.

Slater gave them all the look. He was their leader, the man each of them would follow to certain doom. He knew each and every one of them, and he would die for them, and he knew that they would die for him. It was a mutual bond, forged in the fire of combat, and no matter what was said to each other they all understood and respected it. They were a family.

“All right people, lets move! Immediate mobilization, THIS IS NOT A DRILL!”

“YEEEEHAAAAH!” Dallas whooped. It was time to do what they did best.
Dixon ran to the old, yellow drop ship, the Santa Maria.

“Team Two on me!” he bellowed in what he thought to be his best command voice. He met each one of their eyes as they boarded the small vessel. Nicole shot him an excited smile just before lowering the faceplate on her helmet. Next came Corporal Lester Foreman, the squad’s demolitions expert and Slater‘s assistant team leader, a muscular black man with a big soft spot for the female members of the squad. He hated his name, so everyone just called him Tank. He’d been promoted about the same time as Dixon, but he wasn’t given command of Team Two due to Dixon’s greater experience and time in service. Then came Dallas, easily recognized in his graffiti marked armor, including several naked women and a skull on his left boot, along with the words “your ass here”. Next was Specialist Mark Ajax, the squad‘s medic, an easy going, blonde haired, blue eyed guy from California that seemed to attract women like ants to a crumb. Specialist Maria Cortez was next, a girl of Hispanic and Italian origins who’d grown up in the slums of Brooklyn. She was tougher than just about any man Dixon knew, but he also knew she had a soft interior. He was lucky enough to be one of the few people she trusted, and that was rare indeed. Bringing up the rear was Private First Class Francine McFly, the M90 gunner, a redheaded Irish girl with a hot temper that often brought her into conflict with her superiors. She was small, but with the armored suit even her tiny frame could lift the massive M90 Squad Automatic Rifle. They all took their seats and strapped in, Team One on the left hand side and Team Two on the right.

“All right guys,” Dixon said, his voice muffled by his helmet, “Don’t do anything stupid out there. You all know what to do, lets get it done and go home.” The engines roared to life and the drop ships blasted out of the Leviathan’s launch bay, rocketing toward the lifeless looking world below.




2
Responsibility
Two days earlier



“Hey…hey Dixon…Dix…HEY!!!”

“WHA!?” Dixon bolted up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

Ajax plopped down next to him on the large leather couch in the dayroom, popping pretzels into his mouth with one hand and scratching his groin with the other.

“I don’t know how the fuck you can sleep in here man,” he said through his mouthful of pretzels, removing his other hand from his pants and grabbing the remote for the holovision set.

“I was dreaming about home…,” Dixon replied sleepily, stretching.
Ajax snickered. “Well don’t we all. Matter of fact I think I had a dream about your momma last night…”

Dixon punched him in the arm, actually rather harder than he had intended to.
“Ow, son of a bitch,” Ajax laughed, “and your sister was there too.”

Dixon chuckled. “Go fuck yourself Mark.”

“Maybe I will,” Ajax snorted, popping more pretzels into his mouth, “I’m gonna need a picture of your mom though…”

“Whatsup ladies?” Maria Cortez walked into the dayroom, taking a seat in a worn old recliner opposite Dixon and Ajax. “You don’t have to stop making out just cause I walk in the room.”

“You’re right Maria, but Dixon was just about choking me with his tongue.”
“And Mark’s hands are cold, it was kinda uncomfortable.”

“Very funny,” Maria said. “Hey Dixon, you mind telling your friend Dallas to keep his hands off of me before I rip his ball sac off?”

“Didn’t you already do that?” Dixon asked.
“Yeah, I mean the ball sac on his chin this time.”

Ajax stifled a laugh, nearly choking on a mouthful of pretzels. Dixon nodded appreciatively.

“He definitely has a ball sac chin.”

“Hey, quit makin fun of my ball sac,” Dallas’ southern drawl came through the door, following Francine McFly as she entered the dayroom.

“Aye Dixon, tell yer friend to leave me alone will ya?” she said.

Dixon shook his head and yawned. “Dallas, leave these girls alone before they all think I’m your friend.”

Dallas chuckled. “Aw, now that’d be a shame, wouldn’t it Dix?”

“Fuckin A,” he replied.

McFly didn’t look amused. “Seriously Dallas, if ya don’t leave me be I’ll have a mind to report you.”

“Awww, come on baby, don’t be that way, I’m just trying to show you a good time is all.”

“Fuck off you!” McFly flared, and stormed out of the room.

Ajax yawned and stretched out on the couch. “Dallas, would you cool it already man? It ain’t worth getting an Article over.”

“Seriously Dallas, if you don’t cut it out I’m going to cut your ball sac off,” Maria spat.

Dallas looked affronted. “Well yippeekiyay, I’m glad I’m so well loved around here.”

The door opened again and they all leapt to their feet as Sergeant Slater entered the room.
“Dixon, come with me. The rest of you…clean this place up, it looks like shit.”

Dixon followed Slater out of the room, looking back and shrugging to the others, who made no attempt to tidy up in any way.

“The commander has seen fit to promote you,” Slater said as Dixon hurried to keep up with his long strides. “But the Board didn’t like you enough to give you three stripes just yet.”

“I won’t be getting Sergeant, then?” Dixon asked. A leadership position was really the last thing he wanted, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t be receiving a full pay grade promotion. The extra pay would have been nice.

Slater shook his head. “Nope. I was a Corporal for two years before they gave me E5, so don’t feel too shitty about it.”

Slater stopped and Dixon nearly plowed right into him. The Sergeant turned and gave Dixon “the look”.
“This is a big promotion, Dixon. Lot of responsibility. You’re gonna be responsible for the lives of the soldiers in your team. Everything you learned as assistant team leader is going to come into play, now that you’re the real deal. I know you don’t want this, but tough shit. You’re a soldier so suck it up and do what you have to do. The lives of your friends depend on it. You hear me son?”

Dixon nodded. “Roger, Sergeant.”

Slater gave him an approving look. “Good.”




“Specialist Dixon, post.”

Dixon sighed and double-timed to the front of the formation. Captain Nale, the company commander, stood before him at attention, his eyes boring into Dixon like a drill. Dixon saluted. The captain smiled wryly and returned the salute. Reaching forward, he pulled the magnetic rank insignia from the chest of Dixon’s armor.

“Specialist James Dixon, Fourth Platoon Echo Company, 72nd Infantry Battalion, you are hereby promoted, by order of the highest authority, to the rank of Corporal, with all of the honor and responsibility that come with it.”

He placed the new, two stripe insignia where the previous had been. The company cheered, but all Dixon could hear were the captain’s word’s echoing in his mind; “with all of the responsibility that come with it…”




3
Rough Landing

The planet, designated EP759 by its late discoverers, loomed into view as the squadron of drop ships broke through the thin atmosphere. It wasn’t much to look at really, just another barren rock floating in the sea of stars. Dixon shivered and hoisted his rifle over his lap. It was always cold on those ships. He couldn’t make out any movement on the surface from the small porthole to his right, but then he couldn’t really see much at all. It looked as though the surface had been nuked, completely devoid of any plant life or brush. Nothing but rocks and crags and small hills dotting the landscape. It all appeared dark and desolate under the red sky. Then it came into view; a massive installation on the horizon. Dixon slid forward on his seat and squinted as they moved closer. Beyond the thick layer of pinkish fog he could see it all; the complex which housed the planet’s colonists, along with its massive invincium processing plant. An utterly wretched place to live for sure. The pilot turned and faced Sgt. Slater.

“TWO MINUTES!” he bellowed over the roar of the engines.

Slater nodded and lowered the faceplate on his helmet. He stood up and faced his troops.

“STAND UP!” he yelled, gesturing with both hands. “HOOK UP!”

They each clipped the large metal hooks attached to their harnesses to the rail on the ship’s ceiling. This was necessary to give the suits’ jets time to adjust to the altitude and wind current.

“MOVE TO THE DOOR! ALLRIGHT LETS MOVE, YOU KNOW THE DRILL, FIRST PERSON GO!”

Dixon took a deep breath and leapt out of the open door. Freefalling towards the ground, he activated the suit’s jets and waited to hit the ground. Dixon used to love making training drops; the thrill of falling towards the ground with the armor weighing you down was unlike anything else. But after so many drops, it became routine.

The sensation of making a drop was difficult to explain to anyone who had never done it. It was like being sucked down a giant toilet; all the blood rushed to your head as gravity pulled you toward the surface. But then the suit’s jets roared to life and the descent become slower and more controlled. Dixon had even done a backflip once during a training drop.
But now he just closed his eyes and waited, trying to be surprised when he hit. It was his newest way of making drops exciting again, and it usually worked all right.
Soon he could feel his descent slowing. He reached out with his feet and when he could feel the ground with the tip of his toes, he unslung his weapon and opened his eyes.
He landed with a thud in the middle of the complex, right outside the primary entrance to the main government building. He quickly bounded to the door and stationed himself directly to its left, being careful not to stand directly up against the wall.
Thump, thump. McFly and Cortez hit the ground one right after the other, and took up positions right behind Dixon. Soon the rest of the squad had landed, and Team Two stacked up behind Dixon while Team One moved around back. Dixon looked back at his team; they were all assembled and ready. He made a kicking motion to Dallas, who was bringing up the rear, and gestured towards the door. Without hesitation, Dallas ran up to the door, kicked it open and immediately turned around and took up a defensive position. Dixon rushed in, his weapon raised, and cleared the the first two corners, while Nicole and Ajax moved in behind him and cleared the rest. Dallas moved into the building and shut the door, and they all took up defensive positions. Dixon motioned to Nicole, who moved towards him.

“Okay, you’re gonna move up this corridor and clear it out. Deploy the probe and set it to Defend, and active your tracker, okay? You clear on that?” Nicole nodded.

“All right, move.”

Nicole pulled a small, circular device out of her pack and tapped it lightly. The device opened up and a man sized, insect like mechanical form rolled out of it. It had two long, antennae like sensors on its head and two scythe like arms jutting out of its midsection, giving it the appearance of a large, mechanical praying mantis. Nicole tapped a button on her weapon and the probe followed her up the corridor. Dixon watched as she disappeared into the darkness, hoping that there was nothing waiting in the shadows.
He activated the communicator on his wrist and spoke into it.

“Team One Leader, this is Team Two Leader, the corridor is being secured. Stand by, over.”

After a few moments, he heard the staticy reply. “Team Two Leader this is Team One Leader, roger that, out.”

Dixon breathed a sigh of relief. So far, so good. After a few minutes, he heard Nicole’s voice over the communicator.

“Team Two Leader, this is Team Two Scout, area is secure, over.”

Dixon brought the communicator to his face. “Team Two Scout, this is Team Two Leader, roger that, out.”

He switched the frequency to Slater’s and spoke into the communicator once again.

“Team One Leader, this is Team Two Leader, corridor is secure, over.”

Slater replied quickly. “Team Two Leader, this is Team One Leader, roger that, move your team into position and await our arrival, out.”

Standing up, Dixon motioned to the rest of his team. “All right, lets move.”

They moved swiftly up the corridor, which was completely dark and rather narrow. After a few minutes they came to the main entrance hall, where Nicole was waiting by the door.

“Glad you guys could make it,” she said, her voice sounding strangely mechanical through her helmet. Dixon nodded appreciatively; so far everything was going smoothly.

After a while Slater and his team appeared in the hall, and the squad met up in the center.

“Report,” Slater growled.

“No activity so far Sergeant,” Dixon replied. “What have you got Nicole?”

“The corridor was completely empty,” Nicole said. “It was kind of creepy actually, like I wasn’t supposed to be there. I don’t know, but I think someone was watching me…almost like I was being followed or something.”

Dixon looked around, taking the room in. It was large and circular, full of exotic plant life and comfortable looking sofas and chairs. At the far end of the room was a large, solid oak desk with a huge banner above it that read “Welcome to EP759”. But there were no windows; Dixon assumed that was due to the lack of anything especially interesting to see on the outside.

Slater regarded his troops. “Well I’ve spoken to Command, and they want us to explore the rest of the compound. So far looks like there’s nothing, like they just…vanished or something. So we’re gonna move carefully. We’ll split up into teams again; Dixon, you take the west side of the compound and I’ll take the east. Clear each room as you go and look for any survivors. Stay together, move fast, and get the job done. We’ll meet up in the observatory, since it’s a pretty central location. And lets keep the comm quiet unless there’s an emergency; we don’t know who might be listening.”

Slater eyed them all, and they could tell he was giving them the look. “I don’t need to tell you to be careful. There’s something fucking wrong about all this…”

With that, they stacked on the door leading the next room, Team One on the left and Team Two on the right. Whatever was waiting for them beyond that door, they were about to find out.


More to come...
 
Awesome, I love the set up, can't wait to read the tickling though lol! It sounds a lot like the movie Aliens!
 
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