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01-11-2022, 03:17 PM | #41 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
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Author's Note: I found this while going through some old stuff. It needed a little dusting off. I think I was trying to reconcile ninjas and the Joe Verse. The '80's had some good ninja stuff, and I remember enjoying some game books called Way of the Tiger. An old memory of that must have inspired this.
__ Pirates vs Ninjas 1/3 "... so that's the threat we're looking at," said Jinx, concluding her brief. Torpedo scratched a pencil across his notebook, glanced around the table and caught Icestorm's eye. Icestorm fidgeted and elbowed Wetsuit, who jerked awake. "You were vague on the intelligence source," said Torpedo, staring Jinx in the eyes. "Who or what is the source." Jinx ran a hand through her hair. She'd been hoping to avoid this question, knowing it would lead down a dead end of arguments. "Yeah. It's single source. But it was deemed credible enough that Ninja Force has already launched on the primary objective." "Who or what is the source," Torpedo repeated. "Trust me. It's credible enough," replied Jinx, getting annoyed. Torpedo closed his book and sighed. "Forget it," he said, sliding his chair back. "Find another team." "Dammit Torp," Jinx said. "Can't you trust me?" "No. Source, or we walk." Jinx crossed her arms and stared at the ceiling, struggling to get her breathing under control as the naval commandos packed their things and started heading for the door. "Fine," she said, "It was Storm Shadow." Torpedo leaned across the table, studying Jinx, noting her breathing and skin tone. He shook his head. "It WAS," Jinx insisted. She paused, and dropped her gaze. "Well, he got it from Crystal Ball," she said quietly. Shipwreck burst into laughter. "Seriously? We're going on a snake hunt based on Storm Shadow's gossip from Zoltar the Magnificent?!" "Not snakes. Weren't you listening? The source said Red Ninjas -" "Gymnastics club" muttered Wet Suit. " - but Arashikage denies this," Jinx snarled, glaring at Wet Suit, "and Snake Eyes believes them." Jinx held Torpedo's stare. "And I believe them too, which means there's another ninja or ninja-like entity out there about which we know nothing, which is why I'm coming with you." "No you're not," said Torpedo. "Well I am," came a voice from the door. They turned to see Leatherneck leaning in the doorframe. "Whatever you're doing sounds good enough for me. I'm in," said the burly Marine. "We're full up. No room for gyreens, whatever they are," said Wet Suit. Leatherneck grimaced and veins bulged in his neck and forehead. "What did you say?" "I said," repeated Wetsuit, "no room for fat and slow bulldogs. This is a mission for sharks. You're a dirtpig, so you can stay home." "Enough," barked Jinx, stepping between Wetsuit and Leatherneck. Leatherneck shoved Jinx aside, pointed a finger at Wet Suit and swore. He spun on his heel and stormed down the hall. Wet Suit let out a high pitched giggle.* "Watch this," said Shipwreck, sticking his head out into the hallway. "Hey Barbecue," he shouted. "We got room for one on an op. Want in?" Leatherneck's snarled response was drowned out by crashing metal plates from the weight room. Barbecue ran out of the gym. "An op? Hell yeah - I'm in. Who're we shooting?" Wet Suit giggled harder and shot Leatherneck the finger. "We're chasing intel from Crystal Ball," laughed Shipwreck. "It's gonna be pirates versus ninjas!" Torpedo put a hand on Barbecue's chest and shook his head. __ * I don't know why, but I've always pictured Wet Suit as a mean mofo with a totally unexpected giggle, like this: *** The scratch of cats claws on rock mixed with the heavy breathing of the red-clad ninja working his way up the rocky incline. He paused, allowing thin rope to uncoil, pausing for breath while his fellow climber tested handholds to leapfrog ahead in the climb. He searched the rock for any signs of indentation, natural or otherwise, without success. Moist salty air filled his lungs, tasting foreign, just as the size and colour of the sun and the blue of the sky seemed a little off. The rope, tied around his waist, went taut, and the ninja resumed climbing, thinking of the hours he'd spent perfecting this skill, and complementary acrobatics. He shuddered at the memory of those of his peers who spent years perpetually ill as they built up immunity to poisons. Those same peers had gravitated to poison needles and blow pipes. He grunted, swinging his body to secure a precarious toehold, strained, took his weight on callused fingertips, and hauled his body higher. As useful as those skills could be, he was content with his shuriken and mace and his confidence in climbing any vertical obstacle. With one more swing he pulled himself to the summit, and paused taking in the view from this height. The second climber shook his head, and the ninja pulled a green flag from his tunic and waved it to the tiny figures below. A barrel-chested man in short, loose red pants and shirt, metal hoops circling his wrists and ankles,* shielded his eyes with a broad hand and nodded at the signal. He exchanged words with a man, similar in height and breadth of shoulders but much slimmer, and whose long black hair was pulled into a pony-tail. They motioned to a third red ninja who nodded once, stripped off his red hood, seized a boulder with a rope tied around it, and dove cleanly into the pool. Atop the peak, the two red ninjas discussed descent options. One froze and whispered, drawing attention to the sea, and sails on the horizon. He pulled a shuriken, angled it, and reflected sunlight towards the clustered red ninjas below. The burly man looked up, read the flashes, and signaled for the pair to stay in position, watching. A head broke the surface of the small pool. The ninja breathed deeply and pointed to the depths. The pony-tailed ninja waved, and several ninja melted into the jungle while the remainder dove into the pool, following the rope running from a tree to the rock, laid at the underwater passage entrance. __ * this guy https://wayofthetigerblog.wordpress....mpt-1-part-10/ *** Lift Ticket looked at the piles of open pelican cases full of rifles, machine guns, ammo, grenades, radios, night vision equipment, dive equipment, climbing gear and survival gear. He watched Torpedo, just returned from a five-mile run, work through a set of 100 push ups. Sweat dripped from the black t-shirt sporting an upside down Hawaiian flag. "Which ones are you taking?" he asked Torpedo. Torpedo reached for a notepad on the table and flipped through it. He looked around the team, in the last stages of stuffing gear into packs, and double checked the book. "All of it," said Torpedo. "Except for her," he finished, pointing at Jinx. Jinx threw up her hands in frustration. "You can listen in on the radio," Torpedo said to Jinx. He looked his team over. "We'll be Task Force Pirate." "Yeah - pirates," shouted Shipwreck, stirring a pot over a camp stove. "You should be Task Force Hammerhead," muttered Jinx, slinging her pack on her way out of the room. "That's a good one too," said Shipwreck, testing a bite of breakfast on a wooden spoon. Lift Ticket glanced back and forth between the receding Jinx and Torpedo and looked at the gear again. "Ok. Well, we're going to need two trips." "Breakfast is served," interrupted Shipwreck. "Want some?" he said, holding a bowl out to Lift Ticket. Lift Ticket looked in the pot, at the table, and a look of horror crossed his face. "You guys are having baked beans and Dr Pepper before getting in my bird?" The team grinned. "You guys are assholes," Lift Ticket muttered, leaving the room. Last edited by LowTech; 01-11-2022 at 03:28 PM.. |
01-12-2022, 09:09 AM | #42 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
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Pirates vs Ninjas 2/3
The red-clad ninja looked away from the mantis, hunting for a meal, that had caught his attention. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth slightly, listening through the buzz and hum of jungle insects and the sound of surf. An unnatural high-pitched whine drifted through the night air. Cocking his head he studied the night sky, noting a moving shadow obscuring clouds. The ninja frowned, puzzled. The shape resembled no bird he was familiar with, but then many things about the last few days had puzzled him. Slowing his breathing, he reached for an arrow, nocked it, and released the string on the powerful re-curved bow. The arrow flew true, piercing the bird. Within moments it started to tumble. The ninja kept an eye on its trajectory, dropped from his perch in a tree, and headed on a path to intercept. *** Tracker and Depth Charge kicked their legs in slow, easy motions, their scooters pulling them through the tide. Under water the sounds of the rolling surf vibrated through their bodies. Both recalled tougher swims with treacherous reefs and tricky tidal draws. The sandy bottom rose gently and they paused, breaking the surface to scan the beach through night observation devices. "We oughta' just storm this beach," muttered Depth Charge, aiming his APS rifle while Tracker cleared water from his M14. "Maybe," whispered Tracker, "but with Torpedo running the show it will be done straight by the book." Tracker waved Depth Charge forward. Adopting positions of cover on the beach, they shoved scooters and underwater weapons under brush. "He's not a lot of fun, is he," muttered Depth Charge. "Depends on your definition of fun. We actually got him out with us to a sports bar one night. Instead of eating with us he took all the cheap-ass steak knives and spent a half hour throwing them at a dartboard. When a waiter finally objected, which was ballsy given that Torp had basically carved out the bullseye by then, ol' Torpedo took him out with one of his Wushu moves. That made for the start of a fun night." Depth Charge chuckled, and froze as Tracker held up a fist, peering intently at faint spoor. *** "It sure was convenient that we were able to secure this sailing ship from a drug seizure and have it in just the right location at just the right time," Topside said to Cutter. "Too bad I'm missing the Red Sox' pennant race," said Cutter, scowling. Rampart manipulated controls and the team tilted heads in unison as the images broadcast from the small UAV shifted angles on the large screen. Rampart toggled between the low-light camera and the thermal camera, but the heavy mist and dense foliage limited the value of the information. Suddenly the picture spun. Rampart fiddled with the controls as the world spun in a sharp spiral before abruptly stopping, the camera pressed against a leaf. Rampart ran a diagnostic. "Dunno what's wrong," he said, frowning. "I've got two more. I'll get one up in a few minutes." "Wait until we're in the water," said Torpedo, motioning to Topside. Topside spoke quietly into the radio. "It'll be a straightforward paddle in," Topside relayed. "Tracker's found indications of human movement." "Yeah," muttered Cutter, "But still no signs of any other boats, even from sat photos. How did they get here?" *** Wet Down slung bags of weapons into the small boat, glancing up as Torpedo clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Having two dudes named "Wet" is going to be confusing. You're now Chesapeake." "What? Why do I have to give up my name?" asked Wet Down. "Because Wet Suit was here first. Keep loading the boat." Wet Down, or Chesapeake, stared Wet Suit in the face, blinking when Wet Suit tossed a pack at him. "Fight you for it," said Chesapeake. "Shut up and line up for final inspection," said Torpedo, pulling his long curly hair back into a tight ponytail and wrapping a quick bandanna around it.. Camouflage-clad men with green and black-painted faces, sporting a variety of cut down bush hats and bandannas and mesh scarves silently lined up.* Torpedo ran eyes and hands over gear, checking for noise and glint. From one end of the line, Shipwreck farted. Wet Suit giggled. "Get in the boat," said Torpedo, shaking his head. __ * looking something like this: https://www.amazon.com/Modern-Elite-.../dp/B000S54GR0 *** Though dawn was still a couple of hours away, mist was already rising off the water, concealing the mangroves and muting their brilliant greens to shades of grey. As the boat scraped the beach the commandos jumped out, two dropping to provide cover with medium machine guns while the rest hauled the boat over the sand and hid it beneath brush. Donning packs they broke into three teams, each of three naval commandos. Deep Six joined Depth Charge and Tracker, who pointed out the spoor and direction of travel. Torpedo nodded and held up a piece of paper with a grid on it, indicating the last known location of the UAV. Tracker checked the grid against his map, and double checked the bearings. They matched the movement of direction of their quarry. Wet Suit motioned to Shipwreck and Chesapeake, and the trio started advancing forward left. Tracker's team advanced on the right. Torpedo slung his Stoner and adopted a position in the middle rear with Ice Storm and Topside. *** A loud humming punctured the silence. Tracker, Depth Charge and Deep Six swung to the sound, which terminated abruptly with a wet thwack. Depth Charge blinked and looked down at his chest, from which the shaft of an arrow protruded. Before his knees hit the ground the silence was again punctured by the staccato chatter of Deep Six's M60E3 machine gun. Birds burst from trees and Tracker tossed a hand grenade into the foliage, the sharp concussion adding to the confusion. Branches waved from something's passage and Tracker squeezed off several rounds from his rifle before taking a half dozen quick steps towards the threat. He fired several more rounds as Deep Six passed him, dropped to a knee, and fired another long burst into the trees. Tracker pointed to the grass and branches and waved a hand towards the shadows. "What?" asked a puzzled Deep Six. "Look," hissed Tracker, pointing again. "Disturbed grass and branches." Deep Six stared around, the jungle scene littered with shredded foliage from their fire. How Tracker could make out any spore was beyond him. Tracker sighed and pointed to his right, Deep Six spun and fired a short burst in that general direction. Tracker rolled his eyes, slung his rifle and shouldered a sub-machine gun and pushed creepers aside, walking deeper into the jungle. A broken body lay on the ground, its torn red robes soaked with sweat and blood. A re-curved bow lay inches away from a hand, and a quiver of arrows and a short sword hung from a black cloth belt. Tracker fired a short burst into the body and glanced quickly at the surrounding terrain. Not picking up any signs of other passage, he rolled the corpse over with his toe. "How's Depth Charge?" Tracker asked, while studying the body. "Gone," muttered Deep Six, shifting to a position of cover and composing a sitrep. Tracker pulled open the corpse's clothing, noting the metal bars sewn into the forearm sleeves, and took photos of the mantis and scorpion tattoos on the dead ninja's torso, and the weapons he'd been carrying. None of the tattoos formed hexagram of any pattern. He squatted on his heels, surveying the scene a few moments more, then stripped the Stoner light machine gun and ammo off Depth Charge's body. He glanced up at a shouted codeword and waved forward Torpedo and the team's signaller and medic. Icestorm dropped his medical bag, checking Depth Charge for vitals. He rocked back on his heels and swore. Tracker caught Deep Six's eye and waved his hand once in the direction they'd been moving. *** Two ninjas tensed into alertness. The distinct sound of the signal arrow told of an unknown enemy. The deafening noise immediately afterwards shook them. What were they up against? |
01-12-2022, 06:23 PM | #43 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
|
Pirates vs Ninjas 3/3
"There," hissed Wet Suit, pointing with his Stoner. Shipwreck and Chesapeake peered up into the foliage, just making out the broken shape of the SUAV. They shared a glance. "I got this here pig," said Shipwreck, holding up his medium machine gun. "Gotta keep it handy for suppressive fire." Chesapeake looked at the machine gun and at his own battle rifle. Growling, he laid it down, shrugged off his pack and web gear and started climbing the tree. Even stripped down, it was still an effort. His pistol in its drop holster pulled at his leg, while various knives, magazines and grenades strapped to his body caught on branches. Pushing leaves out of his face he wrapped his hand around the SUAV, looking at the arrow piercing the body. *** Shipwreck waved his hand at the bugs surrounding his head and frowned at a brief, odd, whistling sound. He cocked his ear and glanced around, catching sight of a tuft of red in the mesh scarf Cheapeake had draped over his head. Drawing the sawed-off M79 from its holster he extended to his right and fired in one movement. The recoil swung him around and, dropping the pirate-gun to swing loose on its lanyard around his wrist, he fired a long burst from the medium machine gun, its recoil walking rounds across their flank. "Ambush right!" shouted Wet Suit, firing a long burst from his Stoner. Chesapeake's M14 added to the volume of fire and the three advanced through a cloud of leaves and twigs. "Got one," shouted Wet Suit, scanning the trees. Chesapeake bent over a limp body. The dead ninja still held a blowpipe, and a mace lay a short distance away. "Hold still," muttered Shipwreck. Shipwreck pulled a tin of dip from his chest pocket and carefully emptied the tobacco into a bag. He plucked a small dart from Chesapeake's scarf. Sticky black liquid coated the tip. and he dropped the dart in the empty tin. *** The ninjas looked between themselves, glancing at the pond and back at the jungle, silent once again after the crashing of thunder. They fanned out, raising weapons. The bald man waved them towards the pool, and without hesitation they dived in, barely making ripples on the surface. He pulled himself noiselessly into a tree and watched distant foliage slowly and quietly part as hunters approached. This world wasn't his, and the way of its hunters troubled him. He was still uncertain how he had ended up here, and was determined that his priests would fix this tear between worlds on pain of pain. Ensuring that the last of his ninjas were safe, he dove into the pool, pulling himself down the rope, hand over hand, wiggling his jaw to equalize the pressure in his ears. The rope led him into a passage, and he broke into an underground cavern, lit by a flaming torch lying on the ground. Gasping for air, he saw four ninjas waiting for him, their backs against a rock face that seemed to shimmer. They leaned on the rock, passing through it, and stepping into their familiar world of Orb. *** Wet Suit waved Shipwreck into a position to provide fire support. He lay on his belly and started prodding the ground for mines, crawling towards the rope protruding from the pool. When satisfied that there was no threat, he gave the rope a tug, feeling the weight on the end. Torpedo dropped a grenade into the pool. The result was less dramatic than expected - more a burp of water than a geyser, meaning the grenade had sunk a long way. He cracked a glowstick and dropped it into the water, and they watched the light dim as it sank. They turned to Deep Six. "Think you can hold your breath long enough to get to the bottom?" Deep Six shrugged and started stripping off gear. "Don't bother," came a voice from the treeline. The sailors spun, weapons at the ready, and Jinx stepped into the open, her hands held out. She was followed by the members of Ninja Force. "We don't belong in this world," said Jinx, gesturing to the garish costumes and panoply of silent weapons. "Our teachings have hinted at occasional junctions with a more suitable world. In fact, it's possible that our ancestors came from there. As did those you faced here," she said, gesturing behind her in the direction of the fallen. "Depth Charge is dead," said Torpedo. "I know," said Jinx. "And that's on you. You didn't take me seriously. Well you can go home now. The island's clear. Cutter's waiting for you. We're moving on." The Ninja Force members dove into the pond, leaving the naval team staring at each other. "What was that all about?" asked Wet Suit. "We had a good fight. We lost Depth Charge. We got rid of Ninja Force, so that's probably a win, and Depth would probably say it was a good exchange, if we could have asked him," said Shipwreck, shrugging. He slapped at a mosquito. "Now let's get off this rock for some beers." |
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