The Kinetics of Discipline (Part 1) Fiction

Alright. I have received quite a bit of mail egging me on, so I can't 
resist just one more story. Here goes nothing!

The Kinetics of Discipline by Michael Wikan

Lt. Van Dorn eased his eyes a few centimeters out of his foxhole. Dug 
into a dip between hillocks, his company blocked the advance of the 
Jhi'Dki Alliance infantry into the Khmer Valley. The heaven overhead was

painted with the contrails of missiles and superiority aircraft that 
stood out starkly against the red-violet sky. Easing his binocs to 
his eyes, he rapidly located the enemy forces closing on his 
position. Centered in his field of view, some 5 kilometers away, were 
the Alien enemy. Three Razorwing Grav tanks floated on repulsor 
fields surrounded by several platoons of Jhi Soldat infantry in Power 
Armor. Normally, the thought of them being 5 klicks away would have 
afforded him some comfort as the enemy would be crossing relatively 
open ground. Today it was no help. the Jhi Soldats, Gene engineered 
for violence and the battlefield, were bounding forward at an 
incredible 45 kph and even as he watched they were unlimbering their 
heavy weapons. 
"Prepare fire order Charlie-Tango-Niner" Van Dorn spoke into his 
helmet mike.
"AUTHENTICATE" chirped the central battlecom over the net.
"Tango, Alpha, Tango, Mike, Execute." He spoke with clipped precision 
(Battlecom had the oddest tendency to misinterperate spoken words so 
he took care)
"AUTHENTICATION CONFIRMED"came the reply "SHOT IN THE PIPE."

Relocating the enemy quickly, the Lt. saw they were now in a headlong 
rush towards his position- at an astounding 60kph...Even as he 
ordered his men to engage the enemy, the sky screamed overhead as the 
rocket propelled submunition rounds came in on the enemy advance. 
darting at seeming random, the dark forms of the enemy Soldats 
dispersed as the rounds came in. the Razorwings simply deactivated 
their Repulsor fields and slammed into the earth, kicking up plumes 
of gray dust. In the air, some 500 meters overhead, several hundred 
miniature explosions rolled in the air as bomblets sprayed out in a 
pattern designed for maximum coverage. The ground rippled and heaved 
as the 1 kilo explosive penetrators accelerated straight down and 
detonated. Dirt fountained skyward in huge gouts and through the 
smoke and dust, secondary explosions fireballed to the sky.
Van Dorn finished his order to his men and the two tribarrels in the 
firepits to his east and west screamed as if in rage, kicking out 
thousands of flechettes per minute downrange toward the artillery's 
beaten zone. His helmet AI painted the streams of rounds onto the 
inside of his now lowered visor. Even now, out of the dust cloud, 
something moved. To his adrenaline heightened senses, it seemed as if 
they moved with infinite slowness as 20 Jhi Soldats surged out of the 
cloud toward his line. He didn't need to order the rest of his men 
to open fire as the Jhi arrowed in on their position. Van Dorn raised 
his rifle and began firing at the onrushing enemy even as they passed 
the brush marking the 800 meter distance mark. 

16 left.
600 Meters and the western Tribarrel exploded from a precise hit from 
a Jhi Plasma rifle.
15 left.
400 Meters and three privates from third platoon vanished a haze of 
blood as a Soldat quad Railgun ripped through their firing position.
13 left.
200 Meters and the world shrieked as a Jhi Fusion Torch whipped by, 
narrowly missing him as it bathed the defensive line to his east with 
seven thousand degree fire. Second platoon gone...

And then they were into his line.

Like blackened and bloody djinn, the Soldats descended on the 
embattled human defenders......

Mike Wikan
Game Design\Conceptual Art
n-Space, Inc.
A Producer of 3D Entertainment Software