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I usually don't do fan arts. Even if I really like something I try not to do a fan art because it feels almost unoriginal to me. Guess I got over that for now. Since I already wen this far, might as well go big or go home. Here is a small "short story" to go with it.
Time moves inexorably in one direction.
The red counter flashed on the inside of his helmet.
Five minutes until FTR (full tactical response).
As soon as he set the plan to motion Tabsten’s helmet counter would count down until zero. Not a second faster, not a second shorter. He had five minutes to escape the tower or die trying. Officially known as Beta14-b, Tabsten was trained in long distance recon and subterfuge. His usual missions involved infiltrating small resistance bases and taking down key targets or taking out key coms units. The tower he operated out of was actually city building used by the Survival Function as a test facility for bio experiments such as himself and was bristling with defenses to stop people from not only getting in, but from also getting out.
Tabsten placed the first charge on the door to his cell. They called it a room but a room was not a place that is often thought of as a container for what the humans considered trash. The counter on the helmet blipped at the corner of his eye.
Four minutes fifty nine seconds until FTR.
Tabsten turned and leveled his HAVOC carbine at the camera in the corner of the room and fired a single HVAP round through the lens. They knew. They were on the way.
Four minutes fifty four seconds until FTR.
Tabsten backed up to the edge of the room and cycled another round into the HAVOC, visualizing the maze that was set in front of him. There were always two quick response teams on the same floor as him consisting of 5 men each. He had to kill or incapacitate all ten within five minutes otherwise escape was hopeless.
Four minutes fifty seconds until FTR.
A loud crack followed by dull clangs bellowed through the hall as the door flew out. Tabsten tumbled out of the room into the firing position. For now the hall was empty.
Four minutes thirty seconds until FTR.
Tabsten really didn't need the counter, his heart was beating out every second like a jackhammer. He had to move, stay still and die. His training kicked in and Tabsten jogged forward at a quick pace to the next corner. With only his bare paws on the ground, Tabsten made almost no noise. But steal tipped boots were loud. And from the sound coming from around the corner, there was plenty of them.
Four minutes until FTR.
Tabsten listened for voices. The sound of two men drifted down the hall. Two voices, with two guns to match. All they saw was white as the flash bang went off at their feet.
Three minutes fifty five seconds until FTR.
Tabsten rushed around the corner putting two high velocity rounds into each the mens respective chests. Tabsten only had four clips and it was thus impractical to try for head shots. Both bodies fell to the floor seconds apart from each other.
Three minutes fifty seconds until FTR.
Each response team traveled in packs. Two as scouts sent ahead to locate the target. They would be lightly armed compared to the Venom guns that the other three were carrying. The Venom assault rifle was the standard armament of the Survival function, packing a 12.7 mm incendiary punch with each shot. Although Tabsten’s HAVOC carbine used High Velocity Armor Piercing ammunition, it was only 7.7 caliber, a mere trifle when compared to the Venom.
Three minutes thirty seconds until FTR.
SHIT! Tabsten thought to himself. He had to get out of his head and into the fight. No more time to plan. Now was the time for rash actions. Tabsten began a sprint down the hall when a bullet whizzed past his helmet and into the wall behind him. Rolling to the left to avoid the next shots Tabsten smashed his shoulder into the wall. Grunting slightly as he put four snapshots down the hall. No sound came. The other three of the response team had been much closer than he expected.
Three minutes twenty five seconds until FTR.
A glimmer to his left. To late! A stealth suit got around to his back and picked him up by the scruff of his neck. Tabsten was pinned against the wall and suspended in the air. Five seconds longer and he would be dead. The man pulled out a devilish knife and waved it in front of Tabsten’s nose mockingly. “Dead kitt-“ Both figures fell to the floor as Tabsten put a shot between the eyes of the man. No time for smart remarks, the others were definitely around.
Three minutes ten seconds until FTR.
Tabsten hugged the wall as he padded down the hall. Although he did not need it, he activated his helmet flashlight. Hopefully it would make the stealth suits easier to spot. Unfortunately, it also made Tabsten an easy target as he was about to find out. A long burst of 12.7 mm ammo turned the room into a noise machine as bullets zipped off the walls. On of the shots grazed his left shoulder and Tabsten yowled in pain. He was lucky the shot had only glanced, any closer to the base of his arm and it would have been taken clean off.
Three minutes five seconds until FTR.
Tabsten lobbed 2 Mk X fragmentation grenades down the hall. It was a good thing his helmet had activate-able mufflers over the ears otherwise Tabsten would have been deafened by the duo blast. After the ringing cleared, Tabsten sat and listened. No sound.
Three minutes until FTR.
He had no time to sit around. He cautiously moved forward listening for even the slightest sound. As he reached the end of the hall, the red mire covering the walls and floor confirmed the deaths of the final members of the first response team.
Two minutes fifty seconds until FTR.
Tabsten had hoped to be able to scavenge a key card off of one of the officers, but the grenades had seen to denying that. Care not to move his injured shoulder to much, Tabsten armed another charge to the elevator door. Another explosion filled the halls as the elevator door. Tabsten hobbled into the elevator, arm now drenched is his own lifeblood. He wasn't going to last longer without medical attention.
Two minutes forty seconds until FTR.
Tabsten pressed the down button on the panel and then the lockdown sequence code. The code could be overwritten from the control room in the tower, but Tabsten would have to play for every second.
Two minutes thirty seconds until FTR.
For the first time the smell of singed fur wafted into his nostrils. The stench was revolting. Tabsten looked down to inspect his shoulder. The shot had taken the strap holding the left side of his vest up clean off and had removed at least a quarter of an inch of fur and flesh. He knew he was going to take hits, but he was hoping to avoid having to use an anesthetic drug to just remain alive. The drug would accelerate the movement of clot cells to the area of affect but at the same time it would knock him out.
Two minutes until FTR.
He had no choice. Tabsten removed the syringe from his pack and exposed the needle. He quickly jabbed the needle into his upper arm and pushed down. The affects of the drug were almost immediate. Tabsten’s vision began to blur. He looked down at his arm again and saw the bleeding begin to slow. He slumped to the floor, sliding down the wall of the elevator. The last thing he heard before knocking out was the pinging of the elevator as it defended down the tower.
Bree Bree Bree Bree Bree
The noise was loud enough to give Tabsten a headache. Tabsten lazily looked up to check the counter.
Zero minutes until FTR.
Time had run out.
The elevator had stopped moving.
He could clearly hear voices outside the door.
A feint voice chimed in the elevator, “lockdown code override accepted.”
He had failed.
Time had moved on without him.
Decided to uses Tabsten instead of Gaff since he has been getting all the attention recently. I tried to give the story a pace and urgency. Hope I was able to achieve that. First time attempting to write something like this. More importantly the entire story and art exist in the Derideal universe. Never heard of it. Well go look at it. It is an amazing comic and story.
Derideal © andalar.deviantart.com and http://www.furaffinity.net/user/kiaun/ here on FA
Hope you enjoy it andalar!
Tabsten © me
Time moves inexorably in one direction.
The red counter flashed on the inside of his helmet.
Five minutes until FTR (full tactical response).
As soon as he set the plan to motion Tabsten’s helmet counter would count down until zero. Not a second faster, not a second shorter. He had five minutes to escape the tower or die trying. Officially known as Beta14-b, Tabsten was trained in long distance recon and subterfuge. His usual missions involved infiltrating small resistance bases and taking down key targets or taking out key coms units. The tower he operated out of was actually city building used by the Survival Function as a test facility for bio experiments such as himself and was bristling with defenses to stop people from not only getting in, but from also getting out.
Tabsten placed the first charge on the door to his cell. They called it a room but a room was not a place that is often thought of as a container for what the humans considered trash. The counter on the helmet blipped at the corner of his eye.
Four minutes fifty nine seconds until FTR.
Tabsten turned and leveled his HAVOC carbine at the camera in the corner of the room and fired a single HVAP round through the lens. They knew. They were on the way.
Four minutes fifty four seconds until FTR.
Tabsten backed up to the edge of the room and cycled another round into the HAVOC, visualizing the maze that was set in front of him. There were always two quick response teams on the same floor as him consisting of 5 men each. He had to kill or incapacitate all ten within five minutes otherwise escape was hopeless.
Four minutes fifty seconds until FTR.
A loud crack followed by dull clangs bellowed through the hall as the door flew out. Tabsten tumbled out of the room into the firing position. For now the hall was empty.
Four minutes thirty seconds until FTR.
Tabsten really didn't need the counter, his heart was beating out every second like a jackhammer. He had to move, stay still and die. His training kicked in and Tabsten jogged forward at a quick pace to the next corner. With only his bare paws on the ground, Tabsten made almost no noise. But steal tipped boots were loud. And from the sound coming from around the corner, there was plenty of them.
Four minutes until FTR.
Tabsten listened for voices. The sound of two men drifted down the hall. Two voices, with two guns to match. All they saw was white as the flash bang went off at their feet.
Three minutes fifty five seconds until FTR.
Tabsten rushed around the corner putting two high velocity rounds into each the mens respective chests. Tabsten only had four clips and it was thus impractical to try for head shots. Both bodies fell to the floor seconds apart from each other.
Three minutes fifty seconds until FTR.
Each response team traveled in packs. Two as scouts sent ahead to locate the target. They would be lightly armed compared to the Venom guns that the other three were carrying. The Venom assault rifle was the standard armament of the Survival function, packing a 12.7 mm incendiary punch with each shot. Although Tabsten’s HAVOC carbine used High Velocity Armor Piercing ammunition, it was only 7.7 caliber, a mere trifle when compared to the Venom.
Three minutes thirty seconds until FTR.
SHIT! Tabsten thought to himself. He had to get out of his head and into the fight. No more time to plan. Now was the time for rash actions. Tabsten began a sprint down the hall when a bullet whizzed past his helmet and into the wall behind him. Rolling to the left to avoid the next shots Tabsten smashed his shoulder into the wall. Grunting slightly as he put four snapshots down the hall. No sound came. The other three of the response team had been much closer than he expected.
Three minutes twenty five seconds until FTR.
A glimmer to his left. To late! A stealth suit got around to his back and picked him up by the scruff of his neck. Tabsten was pinned against the wall and suspended in the air. Five seconds longer and he would be dead. The man pulled out a devilish knife and waved it in front of Tabsten’s nose mockingly. “Dead kitt-“ Both figures fell to the floor as Tabsten put a shot between the eyes of the man. No time for smart remarks, the others were definitely around.
Three minutes ten seconds until FTR.
Tabsten hugged the wall as he padded down the hall. Although he did not need it, he activated his helmet flashlight. Hopefully it would make the stealth suits easier to spot. Unfortunately, it also made Tabsten an easy target as he was about to find out. A long burst of 12.7 mm ammo turned the room into a noise machine as bullets zipped off the walls. On of the shots grazed his left shoulder and Tabsten yowled in pain. He was lucky the shot had only glanced, any closer to the base of his arm and it would have been taken clean off.
Three minutes five seconds until FTR.
Tabsten lobbed 2 Mk X fragmentation grenades down the hall. It was a good thing his helmet had activate-able mufflers over the ears otherwise Tabsten would have been deafened by the duo blast. After the ringing cleared, Tabsten sat and listened. No sound.
Three minutes until FTR.
He had no time to sit around. He cautiously moved forward listening for even the slightest sound. As he reached the end of the hall, the red mire covering the walls and floor confirmed the deaths of the final members of the first response team.
Two minutes fifty seconds until FTR.
Tabsten had hoped to be able to scavenge a key card off of one of the officers, but the grenades had seen to denying that. Care not to move his injured shoulder to much, Tabsten armed another charge to the elevator door. Another explosion filled the halls as the elevator door. Tabsten hobbled into the elevator, arm now drenched is his own lifeblood. He wasn't going to last longer without medical attention.
Two minutes forty seconds until FTR.
Tabsten pressed the down button on the panel and then the lockdown sequence code. The code could be overwritten from the control room in the tower, but Tabsten would have to play for every second.
Two minutes thirty seconds until FTR.
For the first time the smell of singed fur wafted into his nostrils. The stench was revolting. Tabsten looked down to inspect his shoulder. The shot had taken the strap holding the left side of his vest up clean off and had removed at least a quarter of an inch of fur and flesh. He knew he was going to take hits, but he was hoping to avoid having to use an anesthetic drug to just remain alive. The drug would accelerate the movement of clot cells to the area of affect but at the same time it would knock him out.
Two minutes until FTR.
He had no choice. Tabsten removed the syringe from his pack and exposed the needle. He quickly jabbed the needle into his upper arm and pushed down. The affects of the drug were almost immediate. Tabsten’s vision began to blur. He looked down at his arm again and saw the bleeding begin to slow. He slumped to the floor, sliding down the wall of the elevator. The last thing he heard before knocking out was the pinging of the elevator as it defended down the tower.
Bree Bree Bree Bree Bree
The noise was loud enough to give Tabsten a headache. Tabsten lazily looked up to check the counter.
Zero minutes until FTR.
Time had run out.
The elevator had stopped moving.
He could clearly hear voices outside the door.
A feint voice chimed in the elevator, “lockdown code override accepted.”
He had failed.
Time had moved on without him.
Decided to uses Tabsten instead of Gaff since he has been getting all the attention recently. I tried to give the story a pace and urgency. Hope I was able to achieve that. First time attempting to write something like this. More importantly the entire story and art exist in the Derideal universe. Never heard of it. Well go look at it. It is an amazing comic and story.
Derideal © andalar.deviantart.com and http://www.furaffinity.net/user/kiaun/ here on FA
Hope you enjoy it andalar!
Tabsten © me
Category All / All
Species Housecat
Size 985 x 1280px
File Size 198.9 kB
Comments