Because I love the character, and he's way too awesome not to use.. here's a BeachHead story, on the battlefield. My "version" of the character is based directly on the comics/80s cartoon. For fans of BeachHead, the GI Joe:Reloaded series has some AWESOME story with him. Unfortunately it only ran 14 issues.
There's some BeachHead/CoverGirl. It's a pairing I'll be using. And... OMG!! Not one mention of Snake Eyes, nor ANY ninja action AT ALL!
I hope you enjoy it!
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BeachHead crouched behind a disabled Mauler tank. The treads on one side had been blown off, and the entire far side was peeled open by an explosive charge from a passing Cobra Rattler. He raised up quickly, scanning the battlefield.
They were not that far from the secret entrance to the Pit. Cobra had launched an all out offensive against the general area that the Joe's base was located at, but they didn't know exactly where it was, nor how to access it. Scarlett and Kamakura had gotten stolen information back to Hawk in time for them all to scramble out and meet the Cobra forces aboveground. Unfortunately for BeachHead, it interrupted his lunch he'd been sharing with CoverGirl. Yeah, it was the messhall, in the crowd of other Joes.. but she HAD been sitting at the table with HIM. But then Cobra had to come and mess with his... lunch. He frowned. It wasn't a date, just some lunch.. between two people. He growled lowly. Next thing he knew, the general alarms had gone off, and he had run off to find Hawk and be told what was going on.
BeachHead had managed to be everywhere at once, standing by with the commanding force to offer any advice on battlefield positions, out along the edges checking in with their scouting patrols, and in the fall-back position, checking that the fox holes and trenches were dug in deep and steep. His personal training regimen was geared exactly towards making certain he COULD be everywhere needed, without him becoming exhausted or rattled by the many different tasks he was charged with.
Hawk was the general in charge of everything, directing them to their positions. Duke had taken one flank, while BeachHead had the other. Flint was helping coordinate the battle by Hawk's side. BeachHead's flanking position protected the center of the Joe troops, and helped keep Cobra from running over Duke's more exposed position covering the command area in the rear center of the area. Right now, he and his dozen greenshirts were hunkered down behind the Mauler carcass, while he waited impatiently for someone to arrive with reinforcements or a resupply of ammo.
"Williams!! Get yer head down!" The greenshirt dropped automatically, and the bullets caroomed off the edge of the armor plating instead of biting through his torso. "You catch a bullet out here being careless, I'm leaving your sorry butt to bleed! You stick yer danged head up one more time, I'll shoot it myself!"
Williams nodded and gripped his rifle tightly. "Yes Sergeant Major!"
He glared at the young man and then turned to scan for the approaching reinforcements again. Finally a Striker appeared, dodging explosive rounds as it headed for them. BeachHead lifted his rifle and squeezed off triple bursts at the following Cobra STUN vehicles. "Give him some cover fire.. get that STUN at four o'clock... take it down!" His support troopers fired, and two of the attacking vehicles ground to a halt, one catching fire. When a third blew up, the remaining two veered off.
The Joe assault vehicle continued at them at high speed, looking out of control. One of the greenshirts turned and ran for nearby cover, followed by a few others. The Striker hit a crater left by a missile and flew up in the air, skewing around wildly before straightening and beelining for them again. Dusty slammed the Striker around, bringing it to a stop within a few feet of the unflinching Sergeant.
BeachHead sneered at the desert rat. "You drive like a girl!"
Dusty climbed out, aiming and firing at a nearby clump of BATs that had appeared. "Since CoverGirl is the best driver there is, I think I'll take that as a compliment!" He ducked as the BATs concentrated fire at him. "A little help here?"
BeachHead looked over at the recruits. "What are you doing hiding over there?! Get yer sorry butts on the line, take out those stupid walking bits of armor!" His shouting made them all scramble and in short order the robot enemy were down and sparking and twitching. "Someone pry the ammo outa them pieces of junk, we'll need it."
He pulled the heavy boxes out of the back of the Striker, immediately stuffing a few clips of ammunition into his various pockets. His troops resupplied as well, and Dusty handed out the new weapons.
Dusty grunted. "Duke is on the right flank, and Hawk is at the mobile command center. I'm all that Duke could spare right now. He got word from command. They said to stay in touch via your comm unit."
Beach grunted at that. "The stupid thing squeels in my ear." He pulled his headset out of his vest, peeling off the balaclava before putting the comm unit on. Once he replaced the head covering, he pulled the mic down and clicked it on. "Roger roger, BeachHead online." He immediately got a reply.
Hawk's voice sounded out of breath. "Beach.. we're moving command to the fall back position.. give me a sit-rep and your twenty..."
Grimacing and crouching behind the tumbled armor, the sergeant thought about the lay-out. "Yes Sir. I'm holding on the left flank, got a dozen greens and Dusty. We lost both our Maulers to those danged Rattlers."
There was a bit of static and BeachHead thumped himself in the ear to jar the earpiece into working again.
"....sssssszzzzz... Duke on forward thrust.. get into position.. sssszzzzzttttt... want flanked..."
He thumped his earpiece harder and it clicked twice and cleared up. "Say again.. all repeat.. say again."
"I'm moving Duke.. sssssskkkTKKTTTKKK.. the forward thrust, you get into.. ssssszzztttt..... position, I don't want to get flanked.. RRRTTTTZZZZ.. a squad of HISS tanks."
BeachHead frowned. "Say again, what's my new position?" He straightened a little, trying to get line of sight for better reception on the comm something snapped his ear sharply. He grunted and reached up to thump at the comm unit and neatly cut his palm on a bit of sharp plastic. "Aww piece of junk.."
Dusty watched him dump his heavy pack off. He moved his lightweight bag from where it was slung across his belly to onto his back. The trooper shook his head, squeezing off a few rounds when one of the STUNs swung back nearby.
"What are you doing? What's our orders?"
BeachHead slapped a new clip into his rifle. "My comm is busted, I gotta go get orders in person." He stood and peered out quickly, letting loose with a few rounds that took out the enemy gunner neatly.
One of the greenies grabbed at his arm. "Sergeant Major! You can't run out there unprotected! You're gonna get killed!" Ignoring the worried young man, BeachHead crouched and moved to the corner of the wreck they were using for cover.
Dusty shook his head. "You can't take the Striker.. we're gonna need it to provide roaming support on us here.. " He lifted up and fired a few rounds at the approaching STUNs again. "Those guys are getting irksome.."
BeachHead looked over the area again, and checked the location of the two STUNs which continued to circle closer, firing and veering away. "Beck! You get in that Striker, and chase down those STUNs, take Miller and Goon as gunners, the rest of you, stick with Dusty." There was a short chorus of affirmative yelps, and he turned to the desert trooper. "I'm going to check in with Hawk, find out what the heck is going on, while you take care of my greenshirts here. You hold this spot, don't let Cobra get past." Without looking, he reached over and yanked Williams down again, just as a bullet pinged off the rim of the armor piece he'd been about to look over. "Try not to let Williams here die before I get back."
Dusty looked down at the sandy haired young man who was scrambling back to his feet. "I'll try my best. You try not to get shot too many times getting over to Hawk, 'kay? I don't want to have to do PT under some new drill sergeant, I'm just getting used to you."
BeachHead grinned under his mask. "Awww.. I'm tearing up here, really. I'll be right back." He sprinted off suddenly, firing short bursts at the oncoming STUN that was concentrating on their Striker just driving away rather than the men on the ground. The Cobra gunner tumbled off, and the driver swerved wildly, trying to get away from the Joe vehicle on it's tail. BeachHead continued running at an angle away from their position, dodging around wreckage and bomb holes in the ground.
Williams lifted his head up to watch. "Do you suppose he'll make it?"
Dusty grinned briefly, then swatted the greenshirt on top of his helmet. "Make it? Jeez, I'd feel sorry for any Cobra troops that get in his way."
The greenie shook his head. "But what if he gets shot? There's a lot of rounds flying back and forth out there!"
The desert trooper aimed carefully and fired, picking off another Cobra gunner before he replied. "HA! Don't you know? It don't matter where you shoot ole BeachHead.. he's just too mean to go and die on us."
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Well, that's chapter one! Anyone like it? I'll try to post a chapter a day until it's done. Some chapters will be short, and you guys will have to just suck it up and deal with short chapters! The entire fic is only about 5K words.
Please feel free to review! Suggestions, ideas, comments, all welcome.