Resistance

Victoria Ashford's Journal 3
To catch a bear

 

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This is the Journal of Lady Victoria Ashford. October twenty third, two thousand and forty one.

 

A pause, and then a sigh

 

I do not even know where to begin today. So much has happened on the last twenty four hours. I suppose I should take it from the start.

 

It was a normal day. People were sleeping in after the concert the night before. Then, quite out of nowhere, we were told to assemble in Hangar one. General Ross held a speech about how it was time to find other pockets of resistance, and strike back, and as such we would split into four caravans going each direction to look for other groups of humans. Mister Parker and I were assigned to caravan one, and we were in the process of making sure everything was aboard, when the aliens attacked. Despite great losses, or perhaps because of them, we managed to get away. We spent some hours driving as fast as we could away from the air base, before we finally stopped outside a run down farm, where we took an inventory of what we had lost.

 

Save human lives and a great deal of morale, it was living essentials we were missing. And as such they send out supply runs to scavenge what we needed. I was sent on one of these, to an abandoned mall. With me was Mister Parker, two soldiers – Second Lieutenant MacKenzie and Master Sergeant Hawk – and a Blacksmith of all things. The Lieutenant doesn’t say much, but she is an amazing marksman. The Sergeant seems to be a natural leader, though he also seems to confirm all American stereotypes. If there is a time to put aside one's differences, I suppose it is now. The Blacksmith – Mister Bradford – has also been affected by the Alien virus, and has gained the ability to form a protective layer around him. A motley group indeed. The mall was not as abandoned as we thought however. A group of well armed raiders had taken refuge there, and attacked us on sight. Mister Parker lost his leg to a bear trap and I was knocked out, but we succeeded in the end. Gathering what supplies we could, we hurried back as the Alien fog closed in over the mall.

 

The “excitement” didn’t stop there. When we returned to the camp, one of the soldiers that we thought had died defending the Air Base had returned, implanted with an alien device that had taken control over his body. He was only an observer in his own body. I with the help of Doctor Higgins tried to remove it, but he died during the procedure. I am about to start the Autopsy and then try to find out what I can about the device itself. The death of the soldier is a loss, but the the implications of this is even worse. I will log more once this is over with.

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Elliot Hawk's Journal 4
First entry since Airbase attack

A click is heard before a audible sigh.

This is Elliot Hawk. It is the twenty seco-.. Or twenty third I suppose, but it ain't a new day until I rise from the bed!

A pause follows

Fuck me what a day, base blown to fuckin' ashes, aliens are uglier than sin. But atleast we know we can shoot'em fuckers. Spent a good time drivin' away to before we made a stop at an ol' farm, shockingly it was abandoned. We then got our orders to pick between either a mall or a police station, seeing as our ammunition situation was fine we decided on the mall.. Boy did that turn out to be a giant pain in the ass for some of us.

A soft chuckle is heard

I got a huge splinter in my ass for it, freaking raiders and their traps. But everything considered, I am glad I only had to deal with that, terrible burns and getting shot in the stomach. I mean, the bald fella, Vincent I think it was. Lost his goddamn leg, the fuckin' a-holes put a freakin' bear trap underneath a pile o' clothes.. I knew it was suspicious, I mean, there was no Rapture so why else would there be a bunch of clothes on the floor? Just think about it.

A silent moment follows

Turns out that Vickie's can heal people by just touching'em. I won't lie, it felt proper weird havin' multiple things in my head that wasn't me… And then I kept on hearin' fuckin' voices in my head without anyone tellin' me about it.. I think I'm starting to lose it. I also don't like how William moves about, he went off on his own into the darkness, I think I even heard an explosion from up there but he seemed fine. Still, leave it to a civilian to split off from the group, wasn't even sure if he planned on returnin', he just left us while we were in a firefight. 

A frustrated sigh follows

If we end up goin' out again, there are going to be some serious rules, psionics or no psionics. Anyway, that is me signin' off, sun is already up and I am about to fall over from exhaustion.

Elliot Hawk, signin' off.

A loud click is heard.

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William Bradfords journal entry nr.2
first day of caravaning

Hello again, this is William Bradford's second journal entry. So it's been eventful, quite the change from the calm days at the airbase. Guess ill start at the start, we and by that i mean the general decided that we were all leaving the airbase in four caravans to spread the resistance to all corners of the earth.

Well, it was going fine, putting stuff into vehicles when the aliens decided that our base needed more fire. There was one ufo blasting the base, while Aliens attacked the caravans from the ground. And boy are those aliens ugly, and well armed to boot, their guns shot something akin to plasma with lightning in it, hope we get our hands on one of those guns soon to even the playing field. They also had these ugly looking attack dogs, nasty things with a paralyzing bite. Well we got away due to brave soldiers defending our retreat, i definitively need to mention the bravery of a bunch of buffaloes who charged the enemy at the end there, eh, i mean the soldier squad not the animal.

We ended up parking the caravan next to this old abandoned farmhouse, was some decent finds in there i heard. Afterwards Badass soldiers Elliot and Rhona plus Victoria the Doctor, Vincent the driver and me where sent out to get some supplies. We got the choice between a mall and a police station and we decided on the mall since food and such where higher priority.

Everything seemed fine up until Vincent stepped into a freaking bear trap, yea you heard me, a bear trap. We couldn't get him out of it so we had to actually amputate. On top of that there was other traps scattered around, and the moment we had patched up Vincent we came under attack by the bastards who put the traps down in the first place. One of em even had a flamethrower, crazy bastard.

We did get some good loot tho, a barrett light fifty sniper rifle which is awsome, good set of crafting tools with a foldable workbench, four mossberg 12 gauge shotguns, ammo, medicinal things and food plus some sundry items.

we would have gotten more stuff if this yellow hazardous fog didn't roll inn, but still a good haul. Feel bad for Vincent's leg, hope he gets a replacement soon, was a learning experience tho, next time we look under the clothes before we step on em. Oh right, did i mention Victoria's a psychic too? She can heal people with her mind and can also do some kinda telepathy thingy, it's like we all get around a mental table to have a chat. I hope she comes with us on future endeavors, her powers are very useful.

well, i guess that's it for this entry, goodbye.

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Elliot Hawk's Journal 3
Airbase attack

A click is heard before Elliot starts speaking.

Well fuck me sideways and call me a spacemonkey… Wait, right. This 'ere is Elliot Hawk, ahem these last two days has both sucked and been amazin' in a lot of ways. Dorothy came runnin' up to me today while I was playin' with the kids. She looked proper pretty, pantin' slightly and then she said I was a cool dude! She also asked if I could fill in for her sick bassist-whatcha-ma-callit James.. Not knowin' anythin' I of course said I wanted to help.. Best decision of my life. Rocked the stage, kinda ironic it was supposed to boost morale considerin' what happened the next day… Anyway, we hanged out and got proper wasted on the good stuff.. No hangover either, all that moonshine as a kid seems to have paid off.. "Makes ye stupid." Yeah right…

A painfully long moment follows before he speaks up.

Then the next day, the aliens attacked. Fucking spacegoats crashing during our dividin' up plan. Was goin' to split up into four convoys. So the aliens showed up, started blastin' all kinds of funky jizz jazz all over the place, some kin' o' electrical plasma I'd reckon.. Yeah that's right, ol' Elliot 'ere knows a thin' or two 'bout ol' sci-fi movies! Turned folk into damn near ashes the moment it hit somethin', then more of those fuckin' faceeaters as some call'em. I don't, but fuck do they bite. Then about two dozens of our Buffalos held the line as hard as they could, fuckin' Billy ran out of ammunition and started shanking'em left and right… Poor Billy, his wife is goin' to kick my ass for not keepin' him safe.

Another painfully long silence before a audible sob.

That's Master Sergeant Elliot Hawk, signin' off.

A loud click is heard.

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Rhona MacKenzie's Journal 3

The voice is muffled as though whispering

Rhona MacKenzie, October twenty-second, twenty forty-one.

This is why I don't like making runs with civilians. Hah, civilians, I'm one now… technically. But a bear trap? We had to perform an on-site amputation, no less.

An exasperated grunt

If they have no training in the field then they shouldn't be allowed beyond the perimeter… is what I'd like to say, but we're short on manpower is what Jones would reply with. I hope the loss of his leg and dignity is enough to remind him of what we're dealing with.

Which was other humans! I want to believe that the traps were set up for any aliens that might have found their foxhole… but I can't allow myself to be that naive.

The sounds of walking on wooden flooring and the noise of drawers being opened and closed

Poor lass, clearly they kept her so sheltered, at least some of these are frilled, I mean… wait, is this thing still… shit!

Audible fumbling before loud shut off click

 

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William Bradfords journal entry nr.1

Hello to whoevers listening to this, im William Bradford and this is the first of hopefully many journal entries that ive been asked to do. hmm, im supposed to state how im feeling right? well im feeling okay, getting enough food to survive and i get to keep doing my hobby. for some reason theres a real need for guns and maintenance of guns around here, i reckon that if i couldn't do my fancy armor thingy id be hidden in a corner of this base making guns.

I suppose im a victim of my own awesomeness in that regard, hasn't been allot of commissions for blades yet, i suppose people have enough stabby things for now.

it is great tho that this resistance exists, that the aliens haven't beaten the fight out of us yet. I do wonder what the aliens want tho? My best theory this far is that they want the planet due to some kind of problem with theyr old one. I suppose we will find out eventually.

a beat of silence

I hope they have lightsabers, so i can steal one and make them that is, that would be really cool. i suppose id have to check if my armor is lasersword proof tho, wouldn't want to chop my limbs of.

ah, i think that will do for the first entry, goodbye.

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Elliot Hawk's Journal 2
Intro 2

A loud click

'Aight, here I am again. It is the twenty second of October, twenty forty one. I saw a.. Uhm, "larger" fella. Another borin' day, exception bein' that a bunch of them officers are prancin' about in the Command post, no doubt plannin' somethin' involvin' a hella lot of gunfire against alien ass. But that's not for me to judge, fingers crossed is all I'm sayin'.

A brief pause follows.

Saw a hawk today soar over the sky, pretty cool bird that. Maybe I'll ask around if anyone knows a thing or two about birds, educate m'self a lil' bit you know? Then maybe I can fetch one and train it to be my personal toilet paper snatcher! Haha, wouldn't that be the day?

Chuckling is heard before it goes quiet for a moment and a short chuckle follows.

Hehe.. Saw Dorothy again today. Sheez how her eyes can immobilize a fella. Started to sweat all over and started twitching awkwardly when walkin', worst part was.. She was lookin' at one of her pals that was just behind me. How embarrassin' was tha'? I almost goddamn waved at her.. Phew, Pa woul' turn in the grave if he knew. Oh that reminds me, we're bein' force to "ration" our toilet papers now, a goddamn lardo appearantly had a ragin' diarreha, explosive even. I swear everyone in the airbase could smell it for days, ouldn't surprise me if the aliens smelled it also! Peeeheeeew! Oh right, anyway that man ended up using THREE fuckin' rolls of paper!

It goes silent before you hear a long and exaggerated sigh.

God fuckin' damnit, goin' to tell Jess that to pick up more on that, 'cause I ain't wipin' my ass with a goddamn sponge. That just ain't happenin'. Not even a lil' bit, and I don't give a flyin' jackass fuck about what the goddamn Romans did to their asses. 

A snort is heard before it erupts into laughter for a perhaps half a minute.

Hehe… Fuckin' Romans. So yeah, I feel fine. Not feelin' malnourished or nothin'. Kinda want a candy bar o' some kin'. I miss the taste o' chocolate. I keep up my daily trainin', I drink only the bare minimum we're given each day. Gotta make it last afterall. Dorothy is drivin' me crazy though, just wish I had a chance to like, properly talk to her… She's so cool. Alright, this was Master Sergeant Elliot Hawk of the 4th Battalion "The Buffalos" 17th Infantry Regiment, signin' off.

A loud click follows.

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Victoria Ashford's Journal 2
Before the Storm

October twenty-first. One thousand and twenty five days since the invasion.

 

Supplies are running low. Not only on medication – though the lack of broad-spectrum antibiotics is a serious issue – but also rubber gloves, injector syringes and disinfection gel. And it doesn’t help that the soldiers that they send on supply runs have no idea what they are looking for. They are just as likely to bring back vitamin supplements as they are Miglitol or Vicodinjust because they look – and I quote – “Medicine-y”.

exasperated sigh

Then there are the ones that come in to the medical wing with small cuts or a headache and similar, and demand that we not only treat it, but that we give them painkillers. Not asking. Demanding. Of course we explain that they are needed for more serious injuries, but they feel entitled to everything. Typically they go on a rant on how important they are; famous “football” players or Vice Presidents of some company and the like. Of course, most people understand that we have a limited supply, but you tend to notice the troublemakers more.

 

There is scheduled a gathering in hangar one tomorrow at nine. Supposedly something big. I’m not hopeful. There has been a tense air around the command center lately. Whatever it is, it’s not good.

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Rhona MacKenzie's Journal 2

Rhona MacKenzie, October twentieth, twenty forty one.

Did you know that dùthchail means homeland in Scots? I've been thinking about home more and more, home sickness maybe. I've not been back in five or so years now. I had hoped to spend a bit of time once I was off tour but, well… things.

The recorder is switched off here but is turned back on to continue the log later

We're in America now so I asked around for what homeland was in the native language here but I couldn't get an answer. I wonder if a lot of what's going on is how the native Americans felt when the Spanish reached their shores. Sure we had the numbers but, Jesus, were we outgunned.

Soft laughter

Maybe Earth will become one big casino reservation… I shouldn't laugh at that. That's not funny, not for the Americans and… and not for us.

Drawn out sigh

I hope E.T up there knows we'll continue to fight tooth and nail for our little blue and green dot

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Elliot Hawk's Journal 1
Intro

A loud click

"'Aight, the thin' is glowin' green, that means it's on right?"

A short pause follows

"Great. 'Aight.. So this 'ere is something that I used to do back while the world was still somewhat in one piece. So this 'ere is Master Sergeant Elliot Hawk of the 4th Battalion "The Buffalos" 17th Infantry Regiment. I'm supposed to just record my day to day activities to try to keep it all together and for them mind docs to watch over in case they think I'm goin' all crazylike. So yeah, I'm still doin' normal things.. Joggin' in the mornin', brushin' my teeth an' all that stuff.. Runnin' dangerously low on TP. I swear the moment a man with diarreah comes to the outhouse the first thin' we'll hear is the groan before the groun' will quake with the wrath of a thousand shotgun weddings. But I digress, I won't lie the thought of not findin' Ben, Ma'n Pa is gnawin' at me. I can only pray to god that they are doin' alright out there somehow."

A long pause follows before a audible sniffle is heard.

"I fuckin' hate this. Those goddamn alien sons-of-bitches are goin' straight back to the moon even if it's the last thing I do."

Another pause follows before a chuckle erupts

"On the other side, I saw that Dorothy gal today an' my heart just skipped all the beats, felt like butterflies was flutterin' about. Tried to say hello but I got drowned out as another pair of folks walked up to her and spoke. Maybe tomorrow, right?"

A loud click follows

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