The rancid stink of rotten milk filled the small space. I stared at the wall across from me, brown chitin dully reflecting in the artificial light. I clutched my Arc Bolter in giant, armored hands, the tactile sensations transmitted through the suit, and into my hands, letting me feel every nick and scratch the weapon had. Sweat beaded on my forehead, quickly blown away by fans built into my helmet. A dark blue overlay sat over my vision, something I was still trying to get used to. The status of my shield, as well as the overheating status of my rifle sitting at the bottom left of my vision. A tiny map rested at the top right, the interior of the vehicle outlined in small white lines.
Eight blue dots sat in two uniform rows on the map, indicating the positions of my new companions. I stared at the wall, not wanting to make eye-contact with
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A roar filled the cramped space, the Bloat Fly letting loose its trademark screech. The things were giant cowards, only good at scaring foes off. It was the only reason such a huge creature was allowed entrance in the middle of an Ascendance. Quick as a flash, I was on my feet. Despite my speed, half the team were already approaching the rear of our vehicle. At least I wouldn’t be last. The more time you spent in the Bloat Fly, the more time enemy’s had to zone in on you, before you could find cover. It was that, or finding yourself being thrown out of the insect as it flew away, panicked by whatever monster threatened its vicinity.
A rounded carapace folded down, letting in a stream of blue-tinted light. I squinted in the sudden light, but my helmet quickly adjusted, the light changing to a more familiar shade. There was no time to think, my modicum of training seeming to have done its job. My feet pounded the fleshy floor, launching myself out into what was soon going to be a
Nevertheless, one of the most important imageries is the fact the rifle itself represents war; thus, the soldier takes so much care of the rifle because the rifle, or the war, once took great care of him by shaping him into the man he is today and, most importantly, by keeping him alive. Imagery, therefore, proves how Magnus delicately transmits information so that an appropriate characterization could take place, which informs the audience about the soldier’s character and, ultimately, the importance of war to the
The story “Hero” by Joe W. Haldeman raises a few significant questions concerning the impact of technological change and how it affects the ethical/moral nature of warfare. This story presents the reader with a specific setting, which fuels further thought into the technological implications regarding the change at a humanistic level. The nature of ethical questions raised are impactful to the story given how the mechanical suits change my point of view on how the soldiers are portrayed throughout their training. Furthermore, these suits blur the lines between the human and mechanical aspect of the warfare. The story offers a unique and distinct approach to present the characters’ humanistic ethical values while they deal with the technological
BANG, BOOM, BLAM,TAT-A-TAT, TAT. My ears are assaulted with noise, my eyes witness squirting blood a soldier is shot. I observe soldiers blown away by bombs. I see blood that saturates an infantry man. I view maimed men and observe limbs with fragmented bone. I witness militia dead on the ground. I listen to screams, grunts and gurgling blood in a man's windpipe. WHOOSH, flame throwers make a path with flames blazing burning men instantaneously. My eyes reveal the emotion that rips through my heart, tears drip down my cheek. I turn my head. I cannot watch a soldier cradle his buddy as he dies.
In Starship Troopers, Robert Heinlein’s novel presents the future of mankind; a future riddled with racism, fascism, and militarism. This future also contains bravery, loyalty, and patriotism among its people, and it can be seen as a utopian society by some. This new version of humanity is presented through the rose tinted glasses of Juan Rico as he remembers his time in the mobile infantry, an elite branch of the army that makes up the horns of this new-age military.
The setting remains the same throughout this chapter but the scenery changes quite dramatically. From varnished wood and stripes and painted circles the scenery transforms into army cots and army issue blankets. This seems to cry out a lot of powerful emotion to the reader as the army image continues to come up, keeping a clear focus on what main be one of the main issues of the story.
The battle from the inside is a storm of confusion and panic, of galvened particle beams flashing past your starfighter so close that your cockpit rings like a broken annunciator, of the boot-sole shock of concussion missiles that blast into your cruiser, killing beings you have trained with and eaten with and played and laughed and bickered with. From the inside, the battle is desperation and terror and the stomach-churning certainty that the whole galaxy is trying to kill you.
I squat down and cup my hands under the bent over body. I scope the battlefield and acknowledge the positioning of my eleven enemies. A million thoughts go through my mind as I decide which area I am going to attack. My warrior paint is smearing down my cheeks, and my cleats dig into the frozen tundra of the battleground. I feel like all the eyes of the arena are on me, as I yell my cadence. I yell the final "GO" and the warriors clash with intent to hurt. Bodies are flying all around me, but I don't notice them, for I am concentrated on one thing, to march my comrades down the hostile territory, and through the archenemies barricade.
As I stare at my car, it glares back me. I put on my two-layer, heavy fire suit. Next I put on my elbow pad, arm restraints, put in my raciever, then my hans and helmet. My helmet presses against my ears with my earphones in and it feels like my ears are going to squish together and be ripped
My internal organs thumped against my chest as I dragged my bag along the carpet floor and into the corridor. As I walked into the long hall, I glanced up and noticed the sign telling me I could get on. My entire body could barely hold itself together with the anticipation of the monumental, dream-come-true event about to take place. I said to myself, "I'll soon be in the air." I slowed my pace to further enjoy what was happening. Swarms of people walked around me as I treasured knowing that one of my lifetime goals was now inevitably going to occur. The excitement and adrenaline running through my veins could have killed a horse.
The sweat began to pour from my body, while my heart raced to pump blood at an accelerated rate. The chase was on. Pedaling my bike, I swerved left and right, dodging all sorts of trash that littered the desolate ground beneath my feet. The car was gaining ground fast, its ebony silhouette glaring at me like some hell-spawned demon. A cold, clammy hand seemed to envelope my body.
The first key feature in my mind map I want to discuss is the colour contrast in both the title and the background. As you can see, there is a colour transition in the background from white to black, as well as in the title from light to dark. This represents the progression of the robots in the novel from the beginning to the end, and just like we read a novel from left to right, the placement of the colour transition was done respectfully to show how the robots transformed from light to dark. In the beginning, robots were innocent technological objects that obeyed their human masters and protected them from harm by abiding to the rules of robotics; however, as the novel progressed, we see how the robots began to learn multiple abilities
I am by myself wearing my blue jeans and an old flannel shirt. It is cool outside but I decided to leave my gloves at home, feeling comfortable with my warm shirt and my sturdy boots.
Standing in the doorway of the plane I still felt grounded. The equipment weighed heavily on my back, the floor pressed against my feet, and the straps pulled on my legs and shoulders. Looking down the only thing I saw was the world in a collage of colored dots as I made sure I spotted my target for landing. My phobia of heights and flying suddenly hit me like a railroad train. I could feel my heart beat from all parts of my body. Gradually, my fears turned into excitement as I longed for the freedom of flight, I leapt. Touching nothing but air I felt the exhilarating rush of adrenaline as I soared through the sky at 120 miles per hour. I was in control. My every nerve tingled with excitement. That smooth collage of color miles below may be where I lived but this was where I was most alive! For sixty seconds of eternity I was completely free of all worldly concerns; it was just me and the sky.
It was a typical Monday morning as I drove home from work, exhausted from having to perform more than twenty-four hours of duty. Windows down, Oakley sunglasses adorn my tiresome face to block the shimmer of sunlight from my sensitive eyes. Anxiously looking forward to the softness of my pillow, I pushed the accelerator to the floor, propelling my car into overdrive. Zipping by the night club Area 151 was when I noticed his motionless body lying on the ground. With tires screeching I quickly came to an unrehearsed stop, the rush of adrenaline and flashes of my military training captivated my mind, transferring me into autopilot.
With a slow dawn I remembered. Had I slipped or had he hit me with something? My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I relived the figure advancing towards me. It was dark. The street light that shone from behind the man in the faceless thickset man in the grey hoody ensured anonymity. Now he was coming. How long had I been here? My head ached as I struggled to assess my surroundings.