Luuschtuntski for 'Foreign Land', Seloveda Cloi is a document of two young Eteno soldiers, an engineer and a sniper, and their haphazard adventures through several dimensions on account of a curious anomaly storm.

This was originally a draft I typed up to serve as an intro to any crossover anybody suggested, but since the only request does not involve trans-dimensional (or should I say movie, TV show, or book) travel, I decided that I'd just put it up here for possible future use. A reserve document, if you will.

Part 1Edit

A thick mist enshrouded the combat engineers of the 2nd Engineer Platoon as their hovercraft soldiered forth through laserfire and artillery guns in the distance. The drone of the propellors helped calm Private 2nd Class Neculai Cherdenko, but not too much. With every second, the sound of Kklxin fire grew ever louder until the Eteno soldier could swear that guns were firing right by his head. The beach came into view, and the hovercraft sped up as the pilot spotted a heavy shore gun in the distance, its two barrels sticking out from behind a hill. The two barrels let out another salvo with a thunderous boom, and in a matter of seconds, two imposing spires of water erupting from the tumultuous ocean showed that the guns were close to hitting the main landing force.

"Lieutenant, when do we expect the anomaly field to get here?" Neculai yelled over the waves and explosions.

"Three hours, maybe two! Just enough time to get that prototype!"


The shoreline was close now. The Lieutenant raised his fist. Ten seconds.


Five seconds.


One second.

A piercing whistle emanated from the Lieutenant, as he threw his hand forward, and opened the fist.

"Clear! Clear! GO, GO, GO!" He yelled as the metal door fell open onto the water.

First, two amphibious ICVs charged off, their guns firing randomly at the hundreds of Kklxin firing positions in the rocky hills at the end of the beach, almost two hundred feet ahead. Right behind the vehicles came the infantry. Neculai stayed behind his Sergeant, Kamengroff. The two leapt into the knee-deep water, and did their best to run to the shore without tripping. Falling face-down and getting your kit waterlogged was a good way to get shot. You couldn't get up, and you'd just flounder around like a fish out of water. Neculai recoiled as dark red blood erupted from Sergeant Kamengroff's back, spraying onto his sand-coloured beach camo jacket. This was Kamengroff's last assault until being stationed on Herit, as a guard at an Air Force base. He had a wife and a little daughter who lived there, so he was quite excited by the news. He'd only known him for about a month, but seeing a comrade die like that, a comrade that had a history, a life, was not easy to take.

However, he quickly collected himself and pushed forward regardless, shoving aside the floating body of his now-dead Sergeant. Around him, Neculai's comrades were killed off one-by-one, but he still kept going. From beach assaults before, he knew it was best not to become fixated on the bloodied, floating corpses, except when acquiring equipment or ammunition. If he became paralyzed by the sight of a dead brother or sister, he'd be sent to the afterlife as well.

Ahead, Neculai spotted his target. Just barely exposed was a line of explosive-tipped spikes, rigged to stab the underside of a tank driving over it, then exploding, annihilating it. They were simple contraptions, but deadly all the same. Neculai rushed behind a hedgehog twenty feet away from the line of explosive tank traps, taking advantage of the protection afforded by the wide metal beams. He poked his head out from his cover as bullets hit the hedgehog and the sand around him. He could make a run for one of the explosive traps, set a charge, and run like hell back to the hedgehog. However, he'd decided to wait for a lull in the suppressing fire. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long. Explosive charge in hand, and detonator in the other, he sprinted from his cover towards the exposed tank traps. The explosives on the traps themselves weren't strong enough to set off the other traps, but Neculai came prepared with one big enough to set off a chain reaction. As he slid to a stop by one of the traps, partially concealed, he slapped the charge on the metal spike. After briefly scanning the hills and cliffs for anything good to spot for the cruisers, he rose to his feet and made a beeline for the hedgehog. Unfortunately for him, several Kklxin beach guns began to saturate the wide tracts of sand with shells, one of them impacting just twenty feet away from Neculai's face, sending him flying back. He landed with a thud on the cold sand, with something metal pressing against his thigh. Shit!

A chain of fire spewed from the line of tank traps, bits and pieces of metal showering the immediate area. This series of fulminations again sent him flying, into a crater caused by the pre-assault bombardment conducted by the surface fleet. Neculai hit his head on a metal panel jutting out of the sand crater, forcing a surge of pain to course through his skull. He tried to rise, but almost immediately after he stood, his legs buckled under his weight. He rolled down the medium-sized crater, into the center. The beach around him started to fog up, and the lasers and bullets coursing over his head were like unending streaks of light. Then, everything went dark.

"All troops, I repeat, all troops! Anomaly field inbound! We have five minutes for full evacuation! That is five minutes, 7th Brigade out!" The words of Commander Ansbach emanated from his radio, and reverberated through his skull.

Neculai rubbed his eyes groggily, but everything remained foggy. Half-buried in sand, nobody had noticed him when the beach was taken. Now, the last living people on this blasted island made a mad dash to the helicopters waiting near the base of the beach. In a fruitless attempt to get up, the private rolled over onto his belly, and tried to prop himself up with his arms. Instantly, he collapsed. There, for several minutes, he sat weakly calling for help, but to no avail. Nobody was left on the beach, as he could hear the purr of helicopter blades grow fainter and fainter. Having turned over onto his back a minute or so before, he was able to see the dark purple storm charging towards him. It was like an explosion thrusting out from the center of the island. Neculai likened it to a field of smoke spreading out immediately after the eruption of a volcano. The most he could do was raise an arm in front of his face as the rolling field of dark purple engulfed him.

He woke to a voice. No. Voices. Neculai lay bathed in the light of a single lantern hanging above him. Just beginning to remember what had just occured, he felt all over his body to see if he was all right. He was in his underclothes, and there was a bandage wrapped around his head, but other than that he was perfectly fine.

But who had saved him, and brought him here? Also, who took his weapons? They weren't on his person. Briefly and feverishly he checked his surroundings for any other people, believing someone may have stolen his gear, but he found everything in an orderly pile on a wooden table to his right. Guns... boot knives... broadsword... armour... jacket... radio... belt... everything was present, and it seemed that none of it had been tampered with.

While whoever had taken him in like this was more than likely a kind soul, one didn't take chances in such a dangerous galaxy, especially if your dogtag read you as an Eteno soldier. Neculai's arm shot out from beside him, clutching the radio with an unyielding grip. He spoke into the gray box quickly and with great volume.

"This is Private 2nd Class Neculai Cherdenko to all available troops! I repeat, Private 2nd Class Neculai Cherdenko!"


"Is 7th Brigade leadership available, over? Private 2nd Class Cherdenko, Neculai Cherdenko. Is anybody there? Anybody at all..."


Someone was coming towards the shoddy wooden door. Quickly, Neculai grasped his Domal Z pistol laying on the table to his right, and aimed at the door beyond it. When it opened, Neculai's sidearm dropped to the floor with a dull, almost inaudilbe whump.

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