9:54 p.m. 2005-09-15
Indistinct as the call for touch down rings through the bay. Static and sterile walls reflecting the sweat and nervous fear of the indoctrinated. Through the ports this alien sun shines in hazy contusions, lacerating the eyes of anxious soldiers. And we all know what is waiting outside come the call- the revenant aversion arisen, sinew and scar tissue joined together in sacred blasphemy of the Prophet's plan. Death and the dead on the other side of pristine steel. And for this one something more than an array of simple bodies.
She is waiting to die. Outside in the wasteland of this foreign world she is waiting for her blood to be shed. Standing shoulder to shoulder in this the flagship Apollo I remember. Light a match to start the smoke, check the trigger and imagine her face echoing in ominous eager decay. The weapon on my shoulder will end what she started in abandonment, a fleeing departure from my side into the arms of everything evil. She has scared the Outlyers and now she is waiting to die. Her end will be my beginning and I will set off to face this messianic antichrist in the fullfilment of destiny dictated by the blood spilt today.
-Sound the alarm this flagship is blistering with firing, shots ring out through the hull and there is an outpouring at the signal given. Amidst the dust and the evanescant fog of this forsaken planet there is killing to be done
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