Kestar's Vengeance, My first story on this site

[Minuteman]

Some of you may know me as SpecOps Grunt on halo2boards.com, but I decided on a different name here.



Chapter 1


Denpok took a pull from the bottle of beer as Kestar slammed his fist into things in anger and despair.
"Alright, we need to calm down and plan our next move. Obviously, you want to attack the Kizpa Strip, but I recommend we hold off. Hoff will be expecting an attack."
Kestar turned around. Tears rolled down his face, and his voice quivered, but the expression on his face was anger, not sorrow.
"Hold off? The cowardly bastard killed my sister, and you want to hold off on a goddamn attack? I ought to kill you, too!" He drew his pistol, and Denpok finished the beer bottle. He broke it off on the edge of the table and held it up.
"Let's take things easy, here. You want to attack with five plasma tanks. Five homemade plasma tanks, may I point out, that have a rather bothersome tendency to explode under the exact wrong circumstances. Oh, and a contingent of jury-rigged, duct-tape-and-band-aids fighters that probably have the same unfortunate tendency as the tanks! Ah, yes, what a succesful, excellent attack! Oh, did I mention you'll probably die? And your fledgling criminal empire will be crushed under Hoff's fist like a cockroach."
Kestar holstered the pistol and nodded. "Sorry. Yeah, I guess you're right. But I do know a guy who can get us some halfway decent weapons."
"Fine. Let's go."
The duo left the lounge and walked onto the bridge of the Enforcer. The small deck crew was busy, intercepting reports and traffic from Kestar's many outposts and patrol ships.
Denpok opened a small cooler and took out another beer.
Kestar watched and shook his head. "You need to take care of that drinking problem."
"And you take care of that drug problem."
"Ha-ha. Just don't spill it."
"Right."
One of the crew members turned around. "Sir, we've got to get out of here. Hoff Mercado's ships are closing in."
"Right. Make best speed to Meshmanokk, crewman."
"That would be Gibbs, sir."
"Right, Ribs. To Meshmanokk!"
Denpok shook his head and took a swig from the bottle.
The trip through hypersppace, while short, was rough. Mass shadows, which provide constant obstacles, were especially in abundance, which was cause for much turning and rearragement. By the time they got to Meshamnokk, Kestar was sitting in the command chair with his fingers on his temples, while Denpok held back a fit of vomiting.
The duo left one of the crewmen in charge and took a shuttle to the surface, which was not an easy feat, either, as the outdated navigational computer tried to find a safe path through the planet's rings and failed most of the time.
As soon as the shuttle touched the surface and dropped its ramp onto the factory floor of Revo's warehouse, Denpok threw himself from the ship and blew chunks onto the ground.
Revo shook his head. "You never were one for hyperspace, were you, Denpok?"
The two shook hands as Kestar descended the ramp. Casting a wary eye at the puddle of hurl, he danced around a pair of cleaning drones and reached Revo. "Ah Revo, how are you?"
Revo extended a hand, which Kestar ignored as he out a hand around the alien's shoulders. "We have come to buy weapons."
"Of course, that's what you always buy. But I sense something is wrong. This isn't just a routine gun stop, is it?"
Kestar's smile shot from his face. "You'll find out some other time. i really don't want to talk about it." He drew a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose and wiped his eyes.
"So anyways, what's new here?"
"Oh not much," said the blue-skinned creature. "Same as usual. Bad service, good guns."
"Actually I meant what do you have here that's new that I could kill someone with, but that was good to know, too."
"I have some lovely homemade plasma tanks."
"I'll pass."
"Cyclone fighters?"
Kestar looked at the fighters. "I'll check these out later."
They came to a row of twenty small conical devices, each encased heavily in metal.
Denpok canted his head in puzzlement. "What are those?"
Kestar grinned. "Small, low-grade nukes. Dirty, but cheap and powerful. Revo, we'll take the lot."
"Uh, I have some pre-orders-"
"The lot, Revo. The lot."
The alien smiled nervously and wrung his hands. "Right. Gentleman-" he gestured to three floor workers" -take two shuttles and load all twenty of these nukes into their ship. It whould be the only one on station, the Enforcer. you still have that ship, right?"
"Still got it, Revo."
The creature grinned. "A lovely ship. Which I sold you."
"Ah, yes. What would my young criminal empire do without you, Revo?"
"Be thrown to the dogs? Cruched like a cockroach under the ruthless fist of some cocked-up bastard?"
"I llike the way you think."
Denpok sighed and watched the nukes being loaded to the ship.
"So what's the plan now?" he asked.
"Despockha."
Denpok looked confused. "Despockha?"
Kestar smiled, and thought of Elra.
"Yes, Denpok. Despockha."

[Minuteman]

Chapter 2




Dendro's binocular's sat in his lap as he drank his coffee. Below him, the usual sounds of activity at Outpost 57 could be heard: engineers tinkering with the rather crappy projectile tanks, technicians rewiring the sentry guns so they would stop firing at their men, and soldiers like Dendro on sentry duty, or patrolling the area on skippers.
It was halfway through a usual afternoon when a loud clanking smash made Dendro stand and put his binoculars to his eyes. In the distance, a reddish object could be seen lurching across the desert, kicking up contrails of sand as it went.
"What the fu-" he started, then ducked as something huge and orange flew over his head and smashed into the outpost wall behind him. The guard tower bucked in response to the explosion, and Dendor clutched the railing as the structure teetered for a moment.
"What the hell was that?" Lieutenant Colonel Elra Davidson was standing with an assault rifle on her hip next to the tower, peering up.
Dendro clutched the binoculars and leaned over the railing. "We're working on it, ma'am."
"You better be, goddammit!"
"Yes, ma'am."
He increased the zoom on the binoculars, and saw an eight-legged tarantula-like object limping its way across the sand dunes.
"Don't know what the hell that is, ma'am. Looks broke!"
"Kill it."
"Yes, ma'am." He took a big breath, then shouted, "Move your asses! Let's get an MCP out here! Pack it up, pack it in!"
One of the heavy MCP mobile cannon platforms lumbered out beyond the outpost. There was a clang as a shell racked itself into the chamber of the gun, then the corporal on board pulled the trigger.
An enormous blast rocked the outpost as the shell found its mark and blew the thing to bits. Flaming metal dotted the area.
A buzzing sound behind him caused Dendro to turn, and the last thing he saw was three red tarantula-like objects whizz through the air and blow the outpost and him to smithereens.