Here's something new I just thought of. Here's a little sneak preview before I post the "epilogue".
In the year 2177, humanity has finally broken the surly bonds of Earth's gravity, and extended it's reach into the farthest corners of our galaxy. Hundreds of thousands of planets, each one a veritable Eden, a place for humanity to sow it's oats, and finally achieve Manifest Destiny to the ultimate degree.
Unfortunately, there are other races out there to hinder our progress. Godless freaks who don't care whether we live or die; grotesque monstrosities who would enslave every man, woman and child on Earth if they could.
That's where the brave men of the United Earth Military come in. The stalwart green line between humanity and total destruction, the men and women of the UEM serve you, making sure that the galaxy is safe for you and your children.
Covering the heroic exploits of our brave marines, sailors and pilots are the intrepid reporters of Earth News Wire, a pan-galactic news agency dedicated to giving you up to the minute updates to the Reclamation War.
Of course, that's what the propaganda vids would have you believe. Down on the ground, the journalists of ENW are pretty much dedicated to filming a reality show detailing every minute detail of life in the war. Some of these reporters are fine with the status quo, but some want more.
On the planet New Polympto, the UEM is tasked with taking the planet back from the Keseythis , a race of bugs with a rigidly structured caste-system. During a routine breakout containment, one reporter gets the idea of a lifetime. Sure, his bosses might not go for it, but it'll get him and his cameraman the rewards they deserve...Isn't that all that matters?
“Want to tell the folks back home your name?”
At the reporter’s prompting, the soldier turned around, presenting a scarred, grim face to the camera. Suddenly, the man smiled. It looked like he had to struggle to make this expression, but when his voice came out; the grin was no doubt genuine.
“Staff Sergeant Edward Decanis, 201st Orbital Strike Regiment, Planetary Marine Corps, United Earth Army” his voice was thick and burly; the big sergeant probably came from the Houston megatropolis back on Earth. “Here to take these damn bugs, and fry ‘em up good! For all the folks back home, ‘o course.”
The reporter nodded knowingly “I’m sure they appreciate your effort! How does it feel to be on the spear tip of the United Earth Government’s reclamation push into Keseythis territory?”
At this question, the sergeant threw back his head and laughed.
“Is that’s what they’re callin’ it back home? Hell, out here, we just call it “Bug Hunt” or the “Target Practice War”. These damn bugs don’t know their backside from a bullet! They don’t have enough sense to plan a proper damn attack!”
As if on cue, the ground fifty yards from the small group exploded, and a horde of Keseythis warriors exploded out of it, into the waiting lead storm of the human forces.
The cameraman turned his lens toward the action, trying to get the best angle of the slaughter. Off camera, the sergeant he had been filming let out a war-whoop.
“Finally! Some action! If you’ll excuse me boys, Mabel and I need to dance.”
At this, he charged off towards his squad, firing his rifle in short bursts. Soon afterwards, the bug assault petered out, and the marines packed up to move to the next predicted breakout zone.
The reporter shut down his mike, and then turned to his cameraman.
“Alright, Adam, you can turn that off now. I don’t know if we can use that one.”
“Why not?” the cameraman asked “Seemed fine to me…Even if he did come off a little gung ho. And who’s “Mabel?”
“His rifle. He had that written on the side.”
The cameraman made a face that looked like he had just bitten into a lemon. “Cute. Anyways, why can’t we use that take. The big wigs back at exec are going to need more clips for the weekly war wrap-up.”
The reporter tucked his mike back into his multi-pocketed vest before he answered. Why the hell had corporate given him a vest with so many damn pockets? At least they gave him a gun this time. Scratching absent-mindedly at the scar underneath his chin, he turned to his cameraman with a sober look in his eyes.
“Because, Adam, nobody back home wants to hear any of that garbage. “Bug Hunt?” “Target Practice?” This war is supposed to be for the benefit of Earth, not for some thugs to get all their murderous energies out on some bugs who never did anything to bother us in the first place.”
Adam rolled his eyes as he collapsed his camera back into a more manageable size. “Jesus, David. Don’t give me your pacifism speech again. Humanity needs the resources on these planets more than a bunch of dumb bugs do.”
Walking back towards their rover David though over his stance on the war, and why the top execs back at Earth News Wire, the network David worked for constantly had him film space marines and their stupid gung-ho attitudes. Why wasn’t anyone trying to talk with the bugs? Didn’t anyone want to know what the Keseythis leadership thought of this war?
Humanity knew that the bugs had a leadership caste, but never bothered to find out much about them besides the basics. Besides, they had declared total war on the humans, so who wanted to know much about a species that would probably be dead in a few years anyways?
Suddenly it him. The greatest idea of his career, something that would get him out of interviewing marines, and probably win him the type of awards and accolades he richly deserved.
Smacking Adam in the shoulder hard enough to make his friend momentarily lose control of their rover, he let out an excited whoop, and grabbed his note pad. David liked committing all his ideas to paper. It came with being an intellectual, after all.
“What the hell was that for, David? You almost made us crash!”
David couldn’t help but smiling. “Listen, Adam, how would like to win a Pulitzer? How would you like to be remembered for something great for the rest of your life and beyond?”
Adam snorted sarcastically. “Yeah, sure, David. I’d also like a gold-plated stretch limo and several models for wives, but that isn’t going to happen, is it?”
David’s smile shrank, but a manic energy remained in his eyes. Adam couldn’t help but be intrigued about what his long-time colleague was thinking.
“Alright, man, I give. What’s your amazing idea?”
David looked up from his notepad, and the smile came back to his face, but with a sort of dangerous quality to it.
“Adam, we’re going to get the greatest interview of our lives. We’re going to interview a Keseythis hierophant.”