» Thu Nov 21, 2013 4:11 am Okay, so my past stories I posted on here haven't been too successful but I still wanted to post this 
Anyway, story I'm writing and I thought I'd share with y'all. Any constructive critiscm is appreciated and all that. Bold text is just notes but they aren't actually in the story, it's just explaining some stuff.
Anyway, about ten years prior, Earth (And Sol system) were invaded. The warfare completely destroyed the climate of the planet almost overnight and the majority of the planet was occupied by the extraterrestrial force.
Enjoy!
December 14th, 2654- ‘The Channel’, just north of Spher- Occupied Calais
Approximately 5: 30 PM
“Just over there, you can see the remnants of the old dock.” Pointed one of the figures in the evening twilight. “If we can evade the patrols, it’s basically a straight run into the old town.”
The group, a mismatched pairing of five men had been travelling for days across the ‘Channel’; a desert wasteland littered with the rusting remnants of centuries-old boats and ships where there had once been to the British Channel. The expanse of land had created a solid landmass connecting what had once been England and France, before the invasion. Now, the rusting hulls of boats were crawling with raiders and bandits. The group behind one of the many dunes had been whittled down from fifteen men and two vehicles to just one small group by the harsh terrain and several firefights.
“Oh, sure, Seek, just Headhunter patrols and several artillery units to get by. Nothing difficult.” Replied another one of the figures as they ducked back behind the sandbank. “What’re we supposed to do, run rusted hull-to-rusted hull?”
“Actually, yes. That was what I was about to suggest. Without our armoured support, we have nothing to combat their aircraft.”
“A H3 might be handy right about now.” (A heavy machine gun)
“Or an E12.” (A rocket launcher)
“Shut it. Don’t get carried away. We don’t have Machine Guns and Rocket Launchers for a reason. See how slow we were going after the Cobras (A lightly armoured scouting vehicle, equipped with a minigun turret) got destroyed? A massive weapon would just slow us down. We’ve nearly missed our ETA as it is. Only got ‘til eight.”
“Sorry, Boss.”
“Shut it. Now, Seek, what’s the plan? You seem to be the one with ideas, maybe you should have a turn.” Ordered their leader. The one who was referred to as ‘Boss’.
“Well, like I said, it’s a straight run from hull to hull, as long as we don’t draw attention to ourselves. In other words…” He watched his breath in the cold air disperse on the wind. “No gunfire, noise to a minimum. Lights off.” He indicated at the torch mounted on his rifle, before switching it off.
“Is that the best you can do?” Asked another, by the name of Jay.
“Unless you got something better, that is what’s happening. Got it?”
No one answered.
“Okay then. There are six wrecks between us and the docks. Time it right, we can do this. Stay sharp.”
Four torches flashed off simultaneously. Five rifles clicked as each loaded a bullet into the chamber. For a few seconds, nothing moved. All that could be heard was the faint thump of a Headhunter patrol half a mile away. The aircraft were a mix of human and alien technologies; using blades and propellers found on Helicopters such as the ‘Dragonfly’ while maintaining thrusters and anti-gravity fields used on dropships. These lightly armoured ships were incredibly fast and versatile, achieving speeds similar to those of more advanced fighter jets and the keeping the VTOL capabilities of many. They were aptly named, and rightly feared by those without the equipment or experience to deal with them, such as the squad preparing to make the sprint across the dunes. A whisper simply said, “Go.”, and the five soldiers moved.
The dunes began to flatten out closer to port, and the wind began to pick up, shaking the upcoming ship, a rusted ferry that looked like a 21st century construction. All the paint had been rusted, and the recent change in environment had begun to corrode and collapse the metalwork. The squad climbed up onto a deck at a 45 degree angle and inside a cabin.
“So far so good. On my mark, we go again. The next one’s the battleship. Get in the hole in the side and wait for my mark again.”
And once again, the same routine. The old battleship, a 24th Century design had a large hole in the side from where some kind of weapon had struck the hull and buckled the titanium plating. As they ventured closer, a silenced weapon coughed a projectile onto the sands in front of the deck. The squad ducked down between some rocks as the silhouette of a figure rose into a crouching stance on the flight deck.
“Get lost, this is our find!” came a whisper from the figure.
“Our?” Muttered Jay.
“Last warning; get lost or the next shot will be much more accurate, this is our hideout, and we got a pretty good thing goin’ here! Last thing we need is you pricks revealing us!” Came another whisper, not so quiet. A faint clink was the telltale sign of another round being loaded into the sniper rifle.
“S’not a railcannon then. Bullets, that’s one good thing.” Whispered another one of the group, who had been silent until now.
“Reke, think you’re able to get him from here?”
“Depends. Wind speeds’ goin’ towards him, I should be able.” Whispered back. The sniper then moved into position,ready to fire a round into the hostile on the deck. For a few seconds, nothing moved as tensions silently flared.
Bang.
A flash of light erupted from a previously unknown location in the ancient craft. Unsilenced.
“What’re you doing? Want to lead those things over here” Shouted a voice from inside the ship, referring to the Headhunters which could still be seen in the distance.
“We don’t all have fancy gear like you, Jeremy.”
A small laugh was silenced by Jay as the hostiles suddenly forgot about the situation at hand and began arguing amongst themselves.
“Jeremy.. What a name!”
“Shut. Up. We can use this distraction. Seek, take point. Get inside. Jay, cover six.” Ordered Boss as the squad took advantage of the bickering raiding gang. They entered the gaping maw in the armour plate and entered the stinking craft. Even after a decade of being exposed to the elements, the smell of seawater and corrosion didn’t get any better.
“Eurgh, stinks.”
“Want to face Headhunters?”
Silence.
“That’s what I thought.”
TO BE CONTINUED
I don't need to ask for criticism because I know you'll give it anyway.
