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metroid2134

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#1 15 years ago

Please tell me what you think of this story of mine. Thanks Insect Rebellion: The Uprising

Chapter 1: WAR!

Artie the Army ant scuttled quickly to the secret meeting area. He would have to hurry if he didn’t want to be late. He was being accompanied by several of his fellow ants, including his best friend, Amos. They all reached the oak tree (which was where the meeting was to be held) in five minutes. Artie tapped on a piece of bark and, seconds later, a gruff voice (which Artie assumed to be that of a stag beetle’s) sounded out and asked, “Password?” “Acorn seed,” said Artie. “All right, come on in,” said the rough voice. A secret door popped open, and Artie and his friends poured through the hole. * * * * * Artie was amazed at the variety of all the kinds of insects inside this reception area. Dragonflies, honeybees, beetles, and locusts all adorned the floors and walls of the hidden cave, and that was just the beginning of them; hundreds of other strange and bizarre creatures Artie had never even dreamed of were flying, scuttling, clinging, or just walking around the area. Most of the main group, however, were already seated on their hard acorn chairs, and so Artie, Amos, and their friends all raced to their seats before Garth the Goliath beetle, who was fairly pushy and bossy, the leading speaker, stood up to give his speech. Just as Artie slipped in a seat by Amos, the lights dimmed, and Garth took the center stage. He cleared his throat, shuffled his papers on which his speech was written, and then began, “My fellow insects, let me say something to you. Insects and humans have lived in peace for generations; there hasn’t been a full-scale war since the formation of insecticide. After that war, there was great loss on both side, and we signed a treaty promising never to let such a war happen again. Now however, there is time to question the genuineness of that article. I hope you all are aware that the mortality rate of our kind is growing at a sickening rate. Humans are not insectitarians anymore; they simply do not heed our beloved brothers and sisters and squash hundreds of them a week. They do anything: step on us, swat us, spray us, anything. I even heard from my underground spynet that the humans are developing a secret atomic weapon: A BUG BOMB! Let me ask you something: Do you want your children living in fear of this great beast?” A great rumble of “NO” spread throughout the cave. I propose to you a great band of willing brethren (such as this one) that is willing to give everything they have for their colony, and try to exploit the weaknesses of the humans. The great and bold mosquito family, of which I am proud to call insects, have been dispatched by the hundreds of millions to certain populated portions of the world. “ “So I ask you: Should this constant mistreatment of our kind be overlooked, as if it were a mere bit of dust? Should we ignore the pleas of help from our fellow insects? Should we continue to let this horrendous race of man run rampant over our world? Should we???” A tremendous yell of “NO!!!!” echoes throughout every portion of that meeting place. Tears streaming down his face, Garth looked every millimeter the perfect emotional leader, ready to spur his troops on. If anyone had doubted the authenticity of Garth’s speech, here was proof that it was real. Garth pressed on. “Do you want to live in a world without humans, a world where all animals can live alike with no hassles? Are you willing to step up for your rights, and be a proud insect?” A number of hands shot in the air. “Because of this overwhelming majority of those who are pro for this plan, and also thanks to the suffering and pain humans have caused us, I have now officially declared war on the human race. Chapter 2: Catastrophe War! Artie could hardly believe it as he dashed for the exit. He was having mixed emotions about it as he headed in Amos’ direction. Amos spotted him and waved him over. “Aren’t you excited, Artie? An actual chance to live out my dream: I can finally be a soldier now!” Artie couldn’t help but smile sadly at his friend’s bloodthirstiness; he knew he could never be like that. He wanted to tell Amos that he shouldn’t go, that he had his whole life ahead of him, but he couldn’t. He was snapped out of his reverie by Amos saying, “Are you going to sign up to be a soldier, Artie?” Artie could only shake his head and say, “No, I don’t think so.” Amos could hardly believe his earholes; had Artie actually said he wasn’t going to do it? “Come on, Artie, do it for your colony. Do it for your family. Do it for me!” “I’m not very well-versed in the ways of combat, and that kind of stuff is boring to me. I’m more of a stay-home kind of person; you’re more the energetic type. Besides, I got my whole life ahead of me. I’m not going to throw it away for some stupid war.” “But Artie, if we fail, the humans will come after you!” “Let them come; I’ll be waiting.” Amos shook his head and walked off to join the ever-increasing line of troops waiting to be signed up. * * * * * Artie came up out of the ant pile to see Amos off, just a few hours after his depressing conversation with him. He couldn’t believe he’d be left alone to face the world without his best bud. He shook his head; no time for sentimental thoughts now. He hurried up to the landing pad where the helicopter, stolen from a child’s backyard and implanted with a miny motor lay. The troops were boarding, and he spotted Amos among them. He started to wave to him, when all of a sudden, Artie felt not quite right. Out of nowhere, a human appeared on the horizon, holding a can of spray. “I’ve got you now,” he said, and proceeded to pump a liter of spray all around the ‘copter and it’s general vicinity. Artie had seen it coming before it arrived, so he had already scurried back to the hill. Amos, however, was not so lucky. He and all the others were suffocated, just about to embark on their heroic mission. Artie ventured back into the open after the coast was clear and the poison was lifted. He saw the dead bodies, and picked out Amos’ among them. He walked slowly to where the corpse was lying, and sank to his knees. “Garth was right,” he muttered. “Humans are the enemy; they deserve to die. Don’t worry, Amos, I’ll avenge you.” He stood up, fire in his eyes, and made a vow that he would join the service right then and there. But first, he had to do something… Chapter 3: Aspiring to become a soldier

As Artie stumbled into the recruiting office, he was greeted by a series of deafening explosions. Thousands of ants and other assorted insects were lined up and having shooting practice, firing at moving targets to get a feel for the real enemy. Artie couldn’t stand the noise and dreaded the fact of going off to fight, but his vow to the departed Amos stuck, and he was determined to succeed for him. He covered up his earholes and made his way, weaving through dozens of excited prospects, toward the recruiting desk. The officer there, a katydid, was doing some paperwork and appeared not to notice the seemingly insignificant ant standing in front of him. Artie cleared his throat, and then started, “Umm, excuse me, sir, but I’d like to sign up for the ground force.”
“Huh? What? Something about the ground force?” said the absent-minded officer. “Oh, you wanna sign up for teh army, eh? Welp, here be a sign-up card for ya. First though, gotta couple o’ qs for ya. ‘Kay, first, do you have a ‘istory of medical probs?
“Uh, none that come to mind.”
“Good, good. Second, ya gots a family?”
“My mom and dad are at the colony still; I haven’t told them I’m leaving.
“’Kay, good. Tat’s teh end o’ teh survey. Short it is, but ‘fective. Now, please sign the card, filling out all blanks that you can.
Artie bent over the desk, grabbed a pen, and started writing. He also happened to notice that the officer’s nametage bore the title “Kenneth”.
As Artie was directed to his room for the night, he couldn’t help but stare in awe and wonder at the other’s uniforms and badges. Soon, he thought to himself, I’ll be getting some of those myself.
As he and his butler arrived at his quarters, Artie rushed in as fast as he could, shut the door in the poor butler’s face, and rushed to his closet. He ripped it open, saw his uniform, and tried it. He decided he liked it, and then grabbed his pistol, rifle, hat, and nametag. I look pretty good, he thought to himself. But it’s time for some sleep, and tomorrow’s a big day.
* * * * *
The next thing he knew, Artie heard a trumpet blowing, sounding as sonorous as if it had been right by his bed. He looked at his clock and groaned. 4:00 AM. Why did they have to torture themselves this way? He shifted into a sitting position and groggily stepped into his uniform, which he had taken off the previous night. He then slowly creaked open the door and walked out.
As he hobbled out to join the other newbies, he saw they were just finishing breakfast, and were fixing to board the toy helicopter. “Wait up, guys,“ croaked Artie. “I’m coming too.”
The pilot of the ‘copter, a rough-looking stick insect, looked out the window to see who was shouting; when he saw, he had compassion and decided he could take along another passenger. “Come on in, kid,” he shouted.
Holding his back and grimacing, Artie limped aboard the transport and boarded fully. He stood and looked out for a minute at the home he was leaving, and then walked to the back with a few friends. He settled in an empty seat and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long journey to boot camp.

Copyrighted 2002 Joe Cottle

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metroid2134

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#2 15 years ago

Chapter 4: Being Trained

Artie was suddenly aware of the helicopter landing on the ground. His eyes popped open, he sat straight up, and looked eagerly out the window, hoping, just hoping to see some form of nicety or friendliness. Not happening. All he saw was coarse dirt, scrub brush, and a few ramshackle shacks that he assumed to be their living quarters.

“All right, y’all, get out of here.” The pilot looked fairly eager to have his craft back to himself once again.

Artie climbed out, felt a sudden urge to stretch his legs, and did so. He had been cramped up in the plane for what seemed like hours. Still woozy from the morning’s early waketime, he stumbled groggily into the single file line with the rest of the recruits and started marching.

As they were walking, silently, steadily, a large shape jumped out of the brush in front of them. It was covered in camo, had the build and body shape of a wasp, and seemingly annoyed. Suddenly, it spoke to them in a gravelly voice. “All right, men! I’m your new sergeant, Willy. Just giving you a little checkup to make sure you’re doing the proper things. You are all doing fairly sloppy, but that’s okay; it’s your first day. I expect things to get much better in a couple of weeks; if not, we’ll have some problems.” With that, he ducked back into the underbrush.

A little unnerved, the troops continued their somber pace for a few hundred yards. The shacks were about a mile from where the plane had landed, so they still had a ways to go. They continued traveling and resting for a good three hours, until the shacks came into sight.

When they picked their cabins, Artie found he had received a medium-sized cabin, with about six beds and six pillows. He immediately chose his bed, the one farthest from the door and nearest to the air conditioner. He plopped down onto it, closed his eyes, and let the feeling of sleep drift over him…

* * * * *

At the sound of a cicada, Artie and his bunkmates awoke in a hurry, eager to get to the morning meal before it was all gone. They threw on their clothes, grabbed their rifles (for target practice), yanked the cabin door open, and dashed out to the mess hall.

Shortly after breakfast, Artie and his fellow soldiers walked out to an enclosed area where a bunch of targets were set up. Willy was already there, bawling out orders left and right. He spotted Artie and his friends in the crowd. ”Hey, come on over here,” he shouted. “I want you to initiate the practice whenever you can. In the tables present in front of you, there should be a sub-machine gun. Pick it up and jam a clip in there. I’m assuming ye all know how to do this, so no instructions on that. I want each of you to spend six clips on target practice. Don’t worry about the ammo consumed; we’ve got an almost endless supply. One last thing: To make this exercise, slightly more challenging, I’ve flipped a switch that will automatically start the targets moving, and it will also set them to going at different angles every time you hit one. BEGIN!”

Artie picked up the weapon, hefted it in his hands, and took aim at the targets. Row after row of targets he would calmly notch with bullets, right in the bulls-eye with a perfect no-miss record. The others stopped to watch him do his exercises. He grinned and kept plugging until he was instructed to stop.

Once that exercise was through with, they marched to an open field, looking just like the rest of the area: dusty and barren of any vegetation, with an occasional insect buzzing around noisily. Also in that field were hidden pit traps and mines carefully placed within it. The mines would not kill you, and neither did the pit traps have sharpened spikes in them. The objective, therefore, was not to get killed but to avoid all obstacles until you reached the blue flag, which was 60 feet away, in less than 6 minutes.

Artie and the others struggled at first, but then Artie came alive. All of a sudden, about halfway through, a burst of energy from heaven came down to him, and he tore through the rest of the maze in a blazing 90 seconds. Once he finished, he was instructed to go on to another one.

* * * * *

Grunting as he sat down, Artie took off his hat, boots, and other ensemble bits and lay back on his mattress. So this is how this will be: run, jump, swing, crawl, whatever, for a month. It’ll be a rough life, Artie thought to himself. Throughout the day, they had practiced such maneuvers as jumping through a ring of fire, swinging over a pit of bombardier beetles, running around the compound 10 times, and other strenuous and fear-inducing activities. The next morning, and the next 30 or so after that, they’d do the same kind of things they were doing today to toughen them up.

* * * * *

“Artie,” Willy boomed in that grating voice of his. “Come over for a second. I’ve got to have a short chat with you.”

Artie walked over, curious to see what his CO wanted. It was only two weeks into training, and he hadn’t done anything yet. Walking away a few minutes away, he was beaming like there was no tomorrow. He had just gotten promoted to Corporal. The reason, Willy told him, was due to “superior production in the face of danger” and “the ability to be an emotional leader”.

Artie walked back to his cabin feeling like a million bucks. The rest of training would go easy.

* * * * *

In a dark tunnel back home…

“Hello? Hello? Could I get some light in here? Thanks.”

The firefly illuminated the shaft, and present there was, of all bugs, was Garth. While the majority of the colony had gone to fight in the war, he stayed behind, and, before long, began to think of some wicked ideas. He was the unchallenged leader of the colony, after all, and he still had a loyal following. He used his militia force to police his bugs around, and also tweaked laws in the Insect Handbook for Good Living to mold to what he wanted. Garth had made himself emperor within a week of the soldier’s departures. Garth is actually collaborating with the humans, and many think he will betray them before long. Part of his devious plan is to build his own genetically engineered army to combat the others…

Copyright 2002 Joe Cottle Please put down any comments




metroid2134

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#3 15 years ago

Last part Chapter 5: The End???

Pop! Artie’s eyes opened, and he sprang up, eager for the call-up. He was finally getting used to these early morning waking routines, which was good, because they were checked on how attentive they were on such matters. Artie has heard from many of the bigwigs that today was to be their first real assault on a human settlement, one located just on the outskirts of New Zealand, 3000 miles away. Artie grinned; many of his fellow ants would be there, and he might be able to convince a few of them to join his side. They would first fly there, in groups of 30 per helicopter, and land a mile from the shack. From there, they would proceed to try to utterly annihilate any living there, as an example to the rest of the world.

The wake-up call sounded. Most everyone tried to ignore it, but they couldn’t overlook both it and Artie jumping around saying, “Wakey! Wakey! Today’s war, fellows! War!”

That certainly woke them up in a hurry. A second later, the cabin was filled with excitement. Insects rapidly throwing on clothes, shouting out orders, and generally being in an agitated state. After a few moments, the excitement calmed down, much to Artie’s disappointment, and everybody formed a single straight line, with Artie heading them. They proceeded to march out, and, as Artie turned his head, he could see the other soldiers from the other cabins also rallying to the assigned spot.

As they reached the area, which consisted of a helicopter landing pad, Willy and a foreign insect, which appeared to be a huge, gangly ant, was waiting to greet them. “Boys,” the sergeant boomed out. “I know you’re excited about today, but I want you to meet some one first. This is General Bill the Bulldog ant, head of this operation and the one who thought of it in the first place. He’s got a few words to say to you. So keep your earholes open; these might be the most important words you’ll ever hear in your life.

The soldiers stirred, waiting, listening. “Thank you, sergeant,” came the general’s steady and monotonous voice. “First of all, I’d like to praise all of y’all for doing this much work to destroy the enemy, the humans.” He shuddered as he said the word humans, and the crowd silently agreed with his tastes. “But, I want to share the news with you that the insect government has invented and issued to us a gas bomb- one that we are invincible and the humans will be knocked out by.”

“If we manage to sneak this bomb in the helicopter (it should fit) to our destination, then transport it in an armored vehicle to the door, light the fuse, and then escape into some bush or something, we should easily disable their force. With that crippling attack, that’ll show the humans who’s boss. We will take up residence in the house if we manage to occupy it.”

A little voice spoke up. “What if we don’t succeed?”

Bill paused. “We must succeed. That’s all there is to it. That concludes my speech. Thank you, and best of luck.

* * * * *

Artie, expecting a long speech, found it over quickly and was soon on his way to board the helicopter once more. To his surprise, the same pilot was still there. Artie shook his head, walked back into his old seat, sat down, and began to prepare for the long ride. It was projected that the trip would take a good 24 hours or more. He tilted his back and…

Artie suddenly awoke, startled. They were here, actually at New Zealand. He was surprised, but pleased. As soon as the craft touched down, he jumped out and raced ahead of everybody. Of course, though, he was called back and placed at the end of the line as retribution. Seven strong stag beetles carried the bomb out of the ‘copter and placed it down in the armored truck. Those insects and a few others would drive the truck up to the cabin and carry out the procedure laid out by Bill earlier. Artie was not among the fortunate who had the privilege of riding; he would have to walk with most of the others.

As they began the trek, suddenly the dust ahead of them started rising up in a huge cloud. Must be something happening up there, thought Artie. However, he was totally caught off guard for the sight that met him.

Standing in front of him were the ominous figures of Garth and a massive metallic army. Garth himself looked exactly like the rest of them. Glistening green-black in the sunlight, they looked intimidating facing the tiny ants, flies, gnats, and others. They were armed to the teeth with sub-machine guns, bazookas, grenade launchers, rocket launchers, etc. Among their weapons was something Artie did a double take at. They had bug spray. Bug spray! Why would they have that? They would be vulnerable to it too, unless…

“Hold it right there!” cried Garth. “Stop where you are. My insect’s sights are trained on you. One move and they’ll blast you. And don’t think that will affect us; ‘cause it won’t. That metallic sheen is something I designed; it’s to keep off any kind of explosion, bullet, whatever. Anything sharp or explosive it will handle. It can even hack bug spray! So don’t try any funny ideas. Just give me the bomb peacefully and right now and we won’t have to get violent.”

“Excuse me, sir,” piped a tiny voice. Everyone turned to look at the minute speaker, a flea who could barely hold his rifle. “But we don’t have the bomb; it’s with our soldiers in the armored truck.” His voice exuded confidence; it didn’t sound the least bit frightened.

Garth stared at the speaker, his eyes bugging out. He then turned to his officers. “You fools! Don’t you realize that that bomb is the only way to bring the humans down effectively, and so, therefore us. We’ve got to stop that truck. Fly, run, hop, do whatever it takes to get there, and do it now!”

Suddenly the scene went topsy-turvy, with Artie and his army doing their fair share of it. They knew to beat the others to the bomb, they would have to use the helicopters. They’d have to hurry, too, for time was precious.

Their army made it to the helicopters and fired them up. They quickly reached the site, and found Garth and his forces right behind them. Artie knew what he had to do. Jumping out of the ‘copter as soon as it landed, he turned to Garth’s army and begin his impromptu speech. “Whoa, whoa, whoa there boys,” he said. “Let’s all think this out logically and clearly.” Garth and his army stopped dead in their tracks, mesmerized by his talk. “Garth, why are you collaborating with the humans, the ones you were opposed to from the beginning? You started this war, didn’t you? Let’s imagine a world not filled with humans. We would not have these kinds of problems. Garth, me, and everyone else could be at home, supping brandy in front of a warm fireplace, with nothing on our minds except warm, cozy thoughts. The humans would be a mere afterthought, if and only if we could work together as a one-minded group. Using your genetically enhanced army, Garth, and our highly trained and developed army, we could easily win against them. Please, Garth, do it for our colony. Do it for your family’s sake. Do it for me.”

Garth took a deep pause, reflecting on what the puny one had told him. “Under these circumstances, noble ant, I’m sure we could work something out, if and only if to destroy the humans taking residence in the shack. Now, the bomb is probably being lit right around now, so I suggest we mosey along now.”

Artie understood immediately, and scrambled away as fast as possible. Wait, he thought, Bill said we are invincible to the bomb. I’d better tell Garth. Turning around, he came back and shouted, “Wait, Garth, we’re invincible to the bomb. It won’t hurt us, don’t worry…” Artie’s speech was cut short, as a burst of brilliant white light erupted from the general direction of the residence. It was deafening, for Artie was standing only 100 feet from it. He shut his eyes, covered his earholes, and just ducked down. While the bomb itself couldn’t damage them, you could never be too sure about shrapnel.

The flash of light let up, and Artie stood up, rubbing his aching bones. Where the door to the shack had once stood was now a gaping hole, with smoke pouring out. The house in totality looked terrible; Artie doubted the humans would have survived that. He grinned tightly and motioned his fellow troops to follow him. The gas, especially now diluted, would not bother them in the least, so they explored the rest of the hovel. It looked like it just might be inhabitable for them to use as a rest stop and a new base.

Artie pause. There was still the matter of Garth. He was a traitor, after all, even if he did cooperate with them just a few minutes ago. Still, he deserved some kind of retribution. He turned around to find Garth, but was surprised to find that Garth and his mean green fighting machines had departed rather quickly after the bomb had exploded. Artie shook his head; Garth was probably going back to the colony, but there was nothing they could do about that now. Their weapons would not affect the plate-like armor of Garth’s genetically advanced military. They’d have to develop something more powerful than your standard guns, but something less bombastic than explosives. Something… Artie would have to think on what though.

Epilogue

Back at the insect colony, Artie stared down at the gravestone of Amos. The war had been called off for now, until they found a way to combat both Garth and the humans. A new leader had been elected, and Artie decorated with all kinds of accolades for his service in stopping Garth from killing his army. That stuff, however, could not replace the pain and loss that Artie felt from Amos’ death, and so he continued to seek to place on Amos’ murderer the ultimate suffering…

Copyright 2002 Joe Cottle Comments are welcome, just not too harsh. :)




cone1234

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#4 15 years ago

Reviews are welcome