Here it is, folks, the first of three parts of Wodin Whatthehel’s heroic deeds during the El Noor Incident!
This is a segment of An Incident in El Noor, which is the first complete accounting of the exploits of Detach Detachment during the
El Noor conflict.
By Tony Stark copyright 2014 StarkLight Press
The gunfire was coming hot and heavy over the lip of the foxhole. A constant barrage of heavy artillery fire shook the ground into which he was dug. Splatters of mud rained down upon Wodin’s head along with water mixed with blood. Rocks the size of his fist dented his flack helmet. El Noor war cries and screams filtered through the staccato of their machine guns to stun the treble portion of Wodin’s hearing as well as the base. On top of everything, rain smacked into his face, blown by the gusting wind as much as the explosions bursting all around him.
Teeth gritted, face set in a mask of steely-eyed determination, Sgt. Whatthehel shrugged off his knapsack. The rabid enemy caught a glimpse of its hunched top and blew the cover right off. Casting a withering look at the enemy line, Wodin dug around inside his satchel. With some grunting, he pulled out a long gun wrapped in zipfast. He opened his penknife with his teeth and slit the waterproof casing on the gun, driving the blade into the side of the foxhole for safe keeping. Gingerly, he lifted the prototype weapon from its cocoon.
Wodin smiled grimly. The Mag-Lev 3000 was Wrought Industries’ latest weapon in conventional warfare. Gunfights of the nature of old Vietnam conflicts had long since become a thing of the past where conventional GAF batallions were concerned thanks to the Mag-Lev generators that were standard kit in every GAF unit of that size. These massive generators were planted on tank frames and trundled along behind the lines of men like some sort of lumbering cave troll. Much like the cave troll, at key points in the battle when the opponents’ metal-based artillery became too pesky, the batallion would part to allow the Mag-Lev to enter its midst. Much like a phalanx in reverse, the generator protected the perimeter by producing two shock waves of reverse magnetic polarity that flashed outward in a radius that stretched up to four miles. One wave magnetized the artillery and moved at lightning speed on to the weapons from which it had sprung, while the second wave whose radius was smaller by half changed the polarity of the already magnetized bullets to the opposite of the first wave. Caught up in the slipstream of the standing wave of magnetic flux, the artillery would rain down in haphazard yet still deadly fashion on those who had sent it out- in many cases, ripping through the guns and tanks of the enemy faster than they were originally shot towards the GAF regiment.
The Mag-Lev had been in use in the GAF for over 80 years now, and and such most opponents of the Galactic Armed Forces knew better than to use bullets and artillery shells on the purple-clad soldiers. El Noor was different, however, and the terrorist group was filled with poor, intrepid foot soldiers for whom taking a doxen magnetized bullets for their god would be an honour. Add to that the fact that Wodin’s company was much smaller than the batallion of men who usually carried the Mag-Lev generator and El Noor’s plan to perforate Wodin and his compatriots made a lot of sense.
“Well,” Wodin growled. “They didn’t plan on this.”
The Mag-Lev 3000 was the same technology in an easily portable, pointable device. Wodin had seen the gun demonstrated at the last Quadrant Gun Show- the Wrought Industries rep had confidently stood before a firing squad of six heavy machine guns at five hundred meters. With a pull of the trigger and a cocky, spraying aim, the rep had repelled the bullets back at the robotic guns with ease, disabling their 600+ rounds a minute mechanisms in under five seconds. Wodin had promptly requisitioned funds to buy six.
Not trusting the El Noorians, Wodin had packed his newest acquisition just in case. He turned on the power pack. It hummed in increasing frequency until the light turned from green to red on the holster.
The deafening sounds of the battle faded away as the diodes charged. Wodin smiled.
The light began blinking in the universal two on one off rhythm of all Wrought Industries weapons.
Still grim-faced yet graced with the ghost of his smile, Wodin turned in his sodden foxhole and rested the gun on the pile of mud facing the enemy.
“I shall see you in hell, saracens,” Wodin intoned gravely, and pulled the trigger.
look for part two coming Friday!