Kaikki luultavasti alkaa jostain?
Lähetetty: Su 28.09.2003 20:54
Tai sitten keskeltä. Tämän tarinan alun poikasen nysän postasin kuukausi sitten brittifoorumille ja ajattelinpä pistää sen tännekkin. Kääntämään en rupea 
Kertokaa mitä pidätte. Heitelkää tomaateilla jos ette.
Lieutenant Krause was close to tears. His special command to this "elite platoon" wasn't
quite what he had expected. They certainly weren't a stealth-trained stormtrooper platoon.
They weren't even a squad. The... mob... included 4 men. Plus the sergeant.
The first soldier was middleweight, middleheight, brown-eyed with a face you could never really
remember, His real name was Blive, but everyone just called him Ghost.
The second one was quite tall and had an eyepatch over one eye.The rest of his face was like it
had been painted with a knife. Later on when he asked about the face he just grunted "It don' pay
off to stare a frag grenade"
His slouched like he had no bones and was kept upright only by the rifle he had slung over his back.
"M' name's Erat", he muttered for an report.
The third one, Exhibit A, was a chest-height man. He looked like a 2 meter weightlifter who got sat
on by a squiggoth. He carried enough ammo to last this war twice over, or perhaps start his own.
Anyone near him risked immediate vaporisation if he actually got hit.
When the lieutenant asked his name he started speaking at the rate of a autocannon.
"Stakzikeaz Strazyerzta, sah! Don' make fun of it thank yeh very much! If yeh don remember it
yeh can call me Zee like evryun else, sah!
The fourth. How did this guy get in the Guard? Just about 6 feet tall, and looked like he could be
lifted with one hand. The name tag on his shoulder read "Farrow"
But something about his eyes told that if someone tried he would get his nose bitten off.
Krause's friends called this kind of person a "bottle covey", though some preferred
"Emperor-damned nutter". Whatever the name, Krause recognised a eye-gouging, head-butting
down-and-dirty bastard when he saw one. In a fight you had no alternative but to lay him out or
cut him down because otherwise he'd try his best to kill you. When this kind of guy was fighting,
his brain was somewhere else.
The sergeant wasn't any better either. Red-faced and swaying, Krause
wouldn't have trusted this man to hold a rifle or,emperor forbid, fire one.
Still, they'd have to do.
"Gear up! Expect a prolonged patrol behind enemy lines!"
There was a healthy groan from the troopers.
Kertokaa mitä pidätte. Heitelkää tomaateilla jos ette.
Lieutenant Krause was close to tears. His special command to this "elite platoon" wasn't
quite what he had expected. They certainly weren't a stealth-trained stormtrooper platoon.
They weren't even a squad. The... mob... included 4 men. Plus the sergeant.
The first soldier was middleweight, middleheight, brown-eyed with a face you could never really
remember, His real name was Blive, but everyone just called him Ghost.
The second one was quite tall and had an eyepatch over one eye.The rest of his face was like it
had been painted with a knife. Later on when he asked about the face he just grunted "It don' pay
off to stare a frag grenade"
His slouched like he had no bones and was kept upright only by the rifle he had slung over his back.
"M' name's Erat", he muttered for an report.
The third one, Exhibit A, was a chest-height man. He looked like a 2 meter weightlifter who got sat
on by a squiggoth. He carried enough ammo to last this war twice over, or perhaps start his own.
Anyone near him risked immediate vaporisation if he actually got hit.
When the lieutenant asked his name he started speaking at the rate of a autocannon.
"Stakzikeaz Strazyerzta, sah! Don' make fun of it thank yeh very much! If yeh don remember it
yeh can call me Zee like evryun else, sah!
The fourth. How did this guy get in the Guard? Just about 6 feet tall, and looked like he could be
lifted with one hand. The name tag on his shoulder read "Farrow"
But something about his eyes told that if someone tried he would get his nose bitten off.
Krause's friends called this kind of person a "bottle covey", though some preferred
"Emperor-damned nutter". Whatever the name, Krause recognised a eye-gouging, head-butting
down-and-dirty bastard when he saw one. In a fight you had no alternative but to lay him out or
cut him down because otherwise he'd try his best to kill you. When this kind of guy was fighting,
his brain was somewhere else.
The sergeant wasn't any better either. Red-faced and swaying, Krause
wouldn't have trusted this man to hold a rifle or,emperor forbid, fire one.
Still, they'd have to do.
"Gear up! Expect a prolonged patrol behind enemy lines!"
There was a healthy groan from the troopers.