Short Story Bob the Dominion Marine

Discussion in 'The Writer's Corner' started by South-Titan, Oct 9, 2010.

  1. South-Titan

    South-Titan New Member

    +13 / 0 / -0
    CAUTION: This was written a while ago late at night with serious writers block and some of the least mature points in the past few months. This is about a group of idiotic or smart-alec Terran soldiers.


    January 14th, 2502

    The Zerg Swarm is attacking a hapless Dominion fortress protecting billions of people on the throne world of Korhal. Our intrepid hero, Bob the Dominion Marine, is nowhere to be found while the two garrisoned marines and six SCVs protect a command post, supply depots, and a barracks.

    “Hey, you! We finally have the minerals for a big-ass destruction machine, like a Thor or Battlecruiser...maybe a few Banshees.” An SCV pulled over next to the Marine Sergeant with a cargo manifest.
    “Heck, we’re not getting one of those. If this invasion continues, we’ll need a main character!” the Marine in command spat out his cigar in disgust as he peppered a zergling with enough ammo to fill up a flatbed truck, instead of the ultralisk behind it.
    “Tell those chumps at the command center we need a main character! NOW!”
    A short while later, the SCV returned with the good news.
    “We’re bringing in a main character and supporting character. Jim the Dominion Firebat, he’s...uh...the secondary character, and Bob the Dominion Marine.” The SCV looked uncertain, then looked up.
    The SCV’s gaze was followed by that of the second marine, ignoring the fact that zerglings were closing in at less than 10 meters away. A battlecruiser had come to save the Dominion capital and its badly-made defense fortress! Two more glints as drop pods rocketed into the atmosphere, and the battlecruiser disappeared.

    “REINFORCEMENTS!” The marine private bellowed, before a zerg drone moved behind him at a poky speed and started hitting him with “lethal” force.

    The first drop pod, containing Jim the Dominion Fire-bat, was coming in towards the bay where the fighting was ensuing. Instead of coming in softly near the battlefield, however, it plummeted past a cliff face and hit the water like a skipping stone.

    The second, was on a more controlled and direct course, for this contained the plot device of Bob the Dominion Marine. Unfortunately, it also missed the battlefield and rocketed into the Orbital Command Center, shearing off its satellite dishes, destroying its adjutant inside, and three of its command staff. He bailed out in a parachute about fifteen seconds before impact, instead of steering it clear and then landing safely. The marine sergeant still standing was amazed that such idiocy could appear in the protagonist.

    “WHAT NEEDS KILLING, PIPSQUEAK?!” roared the half-sober marine at the sergeant. He was a massive form, at least three feet taller, one foot wider, and probably twice as strong in firepower than his counterparts. He carried six sidearms, his standard Gauss rifle, five bandoliers of ammo strapped over his chest, and a reaper jet-pack hastily nailed to the back of his marine suit. However, “pipsqueak” was a bad term for addressing a sergeant while Bob was a mere private.
    “We have zerglings closing in on our base everywhere! The Dominion is busy at a pool party on some fringe world and we’re stuck fighting a bunch of zerglings. There are formations of ultralisks that put us on the edge! Please help!”

    Bob, however, was busy running through the battlefield so he could see the invasion on Korhal. Despite any misgivings about Bob, namely being a courageous hero, he was more of a trigger-high pebble-brain that killed over 5,000 of his comrades and only 200 zerg. He unlatched his gargantuan rifle and began spraying bullets. It was a bad start, because the zerg grossly outnumbered Bob 750-1.

    Half an hour later...

    “Woohoo, this job is the BEST!” yelled Bob at the brutally murdered marine sergeant next to him, riddled with three hydralisk spines and over 25 .50 caliber bullets. There were two SCVs out of eight still alive, who were busy hiding behind a cliff to avoid the friendly fire spray. Bob was gunning down anything in sight. Barracks? Over 250 rounds peppered in it and its tech lab. Supply depots? Not one packet of munitions or food was left untouched by the depleted uranium rounds. Dirt? Enough craters to look like a big brown slice of Gruyere Cheese. Zerg? 767 kills so far, 750 of the zerg dead, and an extra 17 from friendly fire on his units, his accidental destruction of buildings, other reinforcements, and the protoss fleet trying to help him. Bob was not having much trouble keeping Zerg at bay, not because of his shooting spree, but because it was frightening to see a trigger-happy bald rubbernecker with a pistol in his mouth, his specially-modified four-barrel C14 rifle, and the bullet-and-blood covered gun of the dead marine sergeant.

    Instead, the Zerg decided it was prudent just to go away and come back when the bald human was gone.
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  2. South-Titan

    South-Titan New Member

    +13 / 0 / -0
    Steve the Dominion Reaper

    Steve the Dominion Reaper

    February 17th, 2503

    Steve the Reaper was fighting on Dead Man's Port for his life, alongside eleven other reapers and a sizable army of marauders while a transport was getting ready to lift off. A ghost sniped out half of the militia and called in a Tactical Nuke on the transport before it could get into the air. Steve the Reaper, two other reapers, and four marauders made it out that day into the wasteland, but the same jerk ghost intercepted their escape to a second Dominion transport. They were captured and sentenced to semi-archaic execution.

    "Any last words, Dominion scum?" spat out the Corporal at the base to the men on the gallows. The marauders had put up a fight that morning and took out half the militia, and only the Reapers kept away from the failed escape, for reasons known only to them.

    "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do have something to say. This won't work." The other reapers nodded and mumbled similar words.

    The corporal had just about enough of this, and turned at a marine near a giant lever.
    "Duly noted. Pull the switch!" The trapdoors beneath all the reapers swung wide open, fast enough to give a transition in weight shift to snap the necks of the men. However, Steve pressed a button on his wrist control and activated his jetpack. The men hovered in the air, grinning (though not seen through their masks).

    "Enough!! If these men will not hang, they will burn!" The corporal and two marines grabbed torches and advanced on the gallows.
    "Stop right there!" was one voice that boomed out from behind the soldiers before they could burn the reapers. To save the reapers was one marine. Bob. No sooner past the point where the soldiers spun around did 12 shots ring out. Seven incendiary bullets were used to slay the soldiers, and the other five hit vespene tanks located close by.

    Of the three reapers rescued by Bob, two made it out of the scene alive with him. One was killed in the vespene fireball, Steve was able to follow Bob to safety, and another was strapped to Bob's back as a makeshift booster so he could get to the shelter. Ten minutes later, the trio boarded a waiting Hercules transport. Eight hours later, when Bob was changing into a non-combatant outfit, the reaper he had used as a jetpack had, by now, stopped struggling against the ropes tying him to the marine suit.

    He also stopped breathing.
  3. Syndrome

    Syndrome You can change this now in User CP.

    +127 / 0 / -0
    I enjoyed these quite thoroughly. Please make more!
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  4. South-Titan

    South-Titan New Member

    +13 / 0 / -0
    Jim the Dominion Firebat

    Jim the Dominion Firebat

    June 16th, 2503

    It was quiet that day. The Dominion wasn't faced with any battles, so the infantry went out for a barbecue on Umoja. They brought along eight grills and a whole lot of picnic tables, cutlery, sausages, and bread via drop pods.

    The 2nd MC company (Main Character) was having some problems with the propane tanks and the grill. It wouldn't light. Bill the Dominion Ghost was trying to follow the directions as best he could, and had opened up the propane tanks. No flame, however. After a few tries with his lighter, he read a small sentence in fine print, towards the bottom.

    ***If lighter does not work, use matches and insert in the slot opposite to the propane valve***

    Bill started looking in his pockets for a match, but couldn't find one. Jim the Dominion Firebat was getting impatient, so he shoved Bill the Dominion Ghost to the ground and took matters into his own hands. With one hand, he opened up the propane valve. With the other, he activated his perdition flamethrower and set the grill fireballing.

    "Come on, let's start piling on the sausage! I'm hungry!" To prove his point that the grill was ready, he upped the propane flow from the tank. The soldiers nodded consent and brought out hot dogs ready for grilling. Bob the Dominion Marine was walking by with some ground beef for hamburgers, and saw the flaming grill.

    "Wimps! Pansies! You're gonna have to wait for the grill to cook your food. Use all the tanks, they're here for a reason!" Bob drew out his sidearm and shot incendiary bullets into the propane tanks, setting them all aflame.

    Three hours later, the Umojan news reported that there was a gigantic blast crater on one of the Dominion ranches, and that either a Ghost used a tactical nuke, or some idiots with room-temperature IQs used the BBQ grills incorrectly.
  5. thewrongvine

    thewrongvine The Evolved Panda Commandant Staff Member

    +505 / 1 / -0
    Haha, these are great stories, pretty funny.

    • Like Like x 1
  6. South-Titan

    South-Titan New Member

    +13 / 0 / -0
    Thanks, both of you. I have a lot more in my mind. These are just character intros for now.
  7. South-Titan

    South-Titan New Member

    +13 / 0 / -0
    Joe the Dominion Marauder

    After the last few guys are introduced, I'll start moving on to Bob's exploits in the field.

    Joe the Dominion Marauder

    April 8th, 2503

    Joe the Dominion Marauder was being shipped down to the planetary surface of Moria. He arrived in his barracks shortly before noon that day. Four hours later, the Sergeant of the barracks arrived with his jug of service rum and told Joe he was to suit up and get out for duty.

    Joe walked out of the barracks twenty minutes later, toting his grenade launcher. He walked outside to see a giant Protoss invasion army. He turned to his right and saw a Marine Lieutenant approaching.

    "You! Here is your duty, slimeball! Your job is to go behind enemy lines, disguised as a Protoss zealot and destroy their Nexus from the inside!" The Lieutenant swaggered over with a costume and protoss mask, complete with two cardboard triangles to substitute for psi-blades.

    "Isn't this kind of...I don't know, crummy?" Joe had started to put on the plastic power suit and the mask. The Lieutenant responded:

    "Make do with what you've got, soldier! I trust you will do your best!" Joe had finished suiting up, and ran towards the Protoss lines.

    The "Protoss" had reached the main base and met a zealot at one of the pylons close to the gateway. He swaggered over to him.
    "Actual protoss zealot reporting for duty, sir!" He executed a clumsy salute, hitting his forehead with the cardboard psi-blade in the process in what would have decapitated him. Perhaps this zealot was not as he seemed.
    "What were you doing at the front lines, Tal'Mir?" The zealot had apparently mistaken Joe for a real protoss.
    "Tal'Mir? Who the hell is h-Ohhhhh. Uhh, I was taking a nice morning walk by the Nexus when my dog started ringing and...erm...uh...."
    "Did you damage your psi-blade? It looks discolored and unpowered."
    "Psh, unpowered? Naw, it's fine, just a little battle-weary! Look! Wheee, I'm a zealot with blue thingies on my arms!" Joe started dancing and executing fencing maneuvers, jumping, leaping, and was about to do a diagonal slash in the air when his fake blade fell off.

    "Oops. Uhh, nothing to worry about, protoss guy. Just a suit malfunction." Joe bent down to pick up his psi-blade when his mask started to slip downwards. He picked up his blade and reattached it, and then realized his mask had fallen off. He looked at the zealot, grinning, but then realized he was staring at him with blades ignited.
    "What, is it something on my face?" Joe backed away slowly. He ducked as his head nearly got swiped off, then ran out of the protoss base, pursued by a crazed zealot.

    "aaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" Joe made it to the safety of the Terran base and lay sprawled in front of the Marine Lieutenant.

    "SOLDIER! Was your mission a success?" Joe looked up and whimpered:
    "Mommmmy, I'm scaaaared!" He kept whimpering.

    Eight hours later, back in the barracks, good news arrived from the drunken Marine Sergeant. The protoss had retreated! Soldiers got up and cheered. One fired incendiary rounds into the barracks ceiling. Another grabbed a vespene canister and downed the entire barrel, unaware that it was not, in fact, the service rum. Joe was sucking his thumb throughout the celebration, and looked up at the marine sergeant.

    "I'm still scaaared!"
  8. Syndrome

    Syndrome You can change this now in User CP.

    +127 / 0 / -0
    Is this going to be like the A-Team? xD
    I can totally see this as a comedy-action short story. Keep up the good work :thup:
  9. South-Titan

    South-Titan New Member

    +13 / 0 / -0
    Mike the Dominion Medic

    (NOTE: Last character intro for the infantry, and this is sort of a transition into the stories. Yes, Mike is a male medic. Believe it or don't. If this was the A-Team, who'd Mr. T be? Bob?)

    Mike the Dominion Medic

    "Goddamn, this uniform is a cinch! And how come the other guys landed jobs with the siege tanks, while I get some stupid medic outfit?" Mike sat on his bunk, going off on a tangent about how he had to play Juliet in the school play, how he had to be a cheerleader while Bob got to be the quarterback at the academy football team, and how he had to wear a frilly skirt during senior graduation. Bill the Dominion Ghost looked up from his poker game:

    "Well, we know you've always been a girl at heart, Mike. Plus, being a medic is just killing in reverse. Shouldn't be too bad for you. Because of you, the other folks in the MC Company can rest easy, because there's Mrs. Medic keeping our arms attached." Bill looked back to his poker game.

    The next morning, the whole barracks heard gunshots. Raynor's Raiders were attacking the garrison. The sirens planted around the base began to wail, but each one was shot out before the soldiers could wake up. Soon after, gunfire rattled against the barracks door. The soldiers in the Main Character 2nd Company merely stirred in their sleep. The door was snapped off its hinge. Bob the Dominion Marine snapped awake, grabbed his teddy bear, and pulled out a .50 caliber pistol (pre-loaded) from its back. He set it beside him and grabbed his teddy bear once more. Twisting the head off and chucking it at the soldiers coming in through the door in one fluid motion, Bob killed three Raiders marines with his grenade.

    Two minutes later, more marines came in through the door. Bob took his .50 cal and fired three shots, taking the marines out. The others suited up, including Mike, and headed out the door.

    The soldiers filed out into a scene of confusion. The combat soldiers (i.e everyone except for Mike) all went to the front lines. Mike went to the left, where he saw a vespene tank explode. Running to the blast site, he saw Raider troops charging in, guns blazing. The base commander at the scene was hit with the full brunt of gunfire, and shortly thereafter, a second tank explosion. Bill the Dominion Ghost took two potshots and killed the Raider marines. Mike ran to his base commander, bleeding on the ground with shrapnel fragments going through his suit, bullets impacting his armor head-to-toe.

    "Sir, are you okay? You look wounded!" Mike inspected the base Lieutenant. He was seriously injured, and in critical condition.
    "No, medic, I'm perfectly fine. Don't mind me, I'm just about to die of blood loss, hit with enough bullets to kill an ULTRALISK, and could seriously use some medical assistance." The Lieutenant's voice was dripping with sarcasm (and blood). Mike got up from his squat over his commander:
    "Ohh, okay. I thought you needed healing. On to the next soldier!" Mike walked off and started to heal a nearby marauder who had been critically injured.

    The base commander died shortly after.
  10. South-Titan

    South-Titan New Member

    +13 / 0 / -0
    Bob the Dominion Marine Goes to Target Practice

    Bob the Dominion Marine Goes to Target Practice

    (On to the good stuff! I'll do vehicle intros after five of Bob's adventures)

    It was early morning, and the Dominion was getting ready to move back to the main base camp on Korhal. Bob and the Main Character's 2nd Company was getting ready to move out at 1500 local time. While the "squares" like Steve were refueling their propellant tanks, doing physical checkups, or cleaning their barracks bunk, maybe even going at the local improvised bar to rustle up the soldiers there for a fight, Bob wasn't up for that kind of low, going-against-your-maties stuff.

    No, Bob was going to target practice. He strolled down the base until the target range was in sight. Bill and a few of his Ghost buddies were out there, using some spare ammo to bulls-eye some targets. Bob walked by the field and curved a left, going straight by it and into the jungle, where there were some soldiers doing clean-up work against a zerg holdout.

    Bob arrived at the clearing, watching a group of Firebats, Reapers, and Marines take out creep tumors, zerglings, and the occasional hydralisks.
    "Too slow! Those zerg are prob'ly breedin' faster than you'll kill 'em! Stand aside, pansies!" Bob kicked a marine to the ground (and probably dislocated his spine in the process) as a hydralisk popped out of the ground, reeling in joy that there would be a fresh kill. Before the kill team could raise their weapons, the hydralisk was peppered with explosive shells, and incidentally, so were the soldiers.

    A Dominion Firebat turned around, with an armed flamethrower. The valves holding in propane-vespene mixtures released, combining the volatile gases. The lighter in front lit, and he was within charcoal range of Bob.
    "Stand do-" were the Firebat's last words as he pointed the perdition flamethrower at Bob.

    When Bob came back to base, he had a new flamethrower on his right arm. People milled about, and when they saw Bob, they wondered quietly:
    "Why does Bob have a Firebat flamethrower?"
    Then it dawned upon them how he got it.
  11. South-Titan

    South-Titan New Member

    +13 / 0 / -0
    (NOTE: Once I do four more stories and five more intros, I'm moving on to the Protoss.)

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