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  • Subject: MY FANFIC
Subject: MY FANFIC

when the census came around, for religion I put Bungie.

okay dont flame me if there is a specific place for fna fic if there is then do tell.

This is only chapter one.


SURVIVERS CHRONICALS

I jumped down off the crate as rounds bounced off the ground and space around me like hellfire. I landed and pivoted on the light green grass of the god forsaken land of station 13. A canyon of mythic proportions and a curving bend the was supposedly riddled with caves and other hiding spots. it had bright blue skies for most of the day due to is peculiar location on the ring the UNSC called beta station. Bringing my gun up to bare I fire blindly at the oncoming rush of 100 caliber bullets from the jet black turret firing down in a hail. Through the smoke I see a figure go down in pain and agony. I lower my gun and go to his side. As I get closer I see him clutching his side where I probably got him with my new grade 3-J9 assault rifle. Shadows from the looming octagon complex that inhabited my team covered the ground where he lay giving his writhing an almost eerie quality.
“DAMN THAT HURT!” Kurt said through his black T shaped helmet. “I thought this wasn’t going to hurt being a sim and all!” Kurt was my best friend on this post in the middle of no where,hell he was my only friend out of the 20 dicks that lived and worked out here. Nor do any of us no what we are supposed to be doing.
“AWW suck it up Kurt!” I say laughing. Kurt drew his pistol so fast it looked like a blur and shot me where I stood. I flew back clutching the spot on my own helmet where he shot me. It didn’t break through but the force of my helmet shooting back against the front of my head still hurt like a mother.
“HA HA now who’s laughing -blam!-!
Kurt and I where outside of our blue octagonal base. Camp Coag as we called it had three different levels to it. Top level consisted of a turret pointing toward the rest of the canyon, it had a ramp leading out of the base and into the “parking lot” for it had all our vehicles parked there for anyone who decided they needed a drive around, we had 2 of the warthogs standard issue for ground operations a scorpion tank also standard issue. Second level had all the sleeping bunks and food storage. Third level had the entire teams ammo and rounds and some emergency food.
Kurt got up and lifted his helmet off his face to reveal a head shaped like a kickball from perpetual use of his helmet had warped his head into a triangular kickball shape. His nose looked like a crooked pipe but when asked if he wanted it fixed he always replied “no way I think it makes me look ultra sexy”. he started to take off his black battle suit that was riddled with health equipment. Command said it was some new and cheaper version of Dr. halsys MJOLNER armor. All the crewmen of our little outpost had one and multiple replacements. I started to take of my own helmet letting a hot dry breeze waft over me like a virus. Kurt and I walked to the base through the open hatch that lead to second level. I walked over to my small bunk and night stand that held all my personal belongings. I glanced at the picture of my family. My family consisted of one person, my mother. George, my father was also a marine in the UNSC he was a drill sergeant for the Spartan II program. He also fought in the battle for reach where he perished at the hands of the evil Covenant. They where the reason I never knew my father. He was always away for some major errand or helping to train the blessed Spartans. Agatha my mother was the women that made me want do something in my life. She always preached about how my father was so great and that I should follow in his footsteps. So I joined the marines but this post is not what I had in mind.
Stripping myself of my battle suit I stood in my grey fatigues that where completely drenched in my own sweat. Setting my battle suit on the floor I plumped into bed and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

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I awoke to the sound of laughter and howling coughing. I saw around me like wraiths in the darkened “night” cycle of the indoor sleeping quarters two figures sitting upright on their bunk. Both where looking at me. Confused I look at my self to see what they where laughing at but could find nothing.
As though the confused look on my face was funny the two wraiths continued to laugh and one seemed to be coughing. Finally gathering my bearings I concentrate on the on farthest from me, Joshua. The Australian marine that was always pulling pranks on an unsuspecting team was hoarse with laughter. Marly from Messopa III gave himself away from his chronic coughing fits while trying to form any type of communication out of his thin crusty mouth.
I was about to tell them they are obnoxious jerks that pick on people that cant defend themselves ( which many people seem to tell me I cant do in verbal engagements) for crap. When the alarm went off in both the quarters and the implants in the back of our heads to insure that we got the message. Yelping with shock and confusion 3 more people that where sleeping also literally tumbled out of bed onto the floor in a scramble to put on their equipment that would shut off the alarm in their head. Hauling my equipment unto my bed I quickly slide my armor over my still sweaty fatigues. I put on my thin gauntlet and pressed the code that opened the weapon locker at the foot of my bed and grabbed a standard pistol that fit snuggly in the hatch of my armor. Snapping the pistol hatch shut into my thigh plate I grab a sniper and 4 clips of ammo. Sliding it over the magnetic patch of my armor the snipers steel casing clings to my back. Then grabbing my last weapon, a shotgun and some rounds I go clambering up the ramp that leads to the outside then walk along the side of the base go walking up the ramp to where sergeant nickel’s tall silhouette loomed over the glass that saw down into the sleeping quarters.
Taking my place in the line of gathered squad mates we stood at attention. My shotgun was across my chest its gray pump action barrel was large compared to the others assault rifles. My helmet launched its diagnostics check on the suit systems and weapon info.
“CHECKING: BIO” The inhuman computer voice sounded in my helmet. “PRIVATE SAMUEAL STANLY MAVEL. ID # CHECKING”
I prepare my self to say my ID number. “Number 177889” I recite perfectly”
“CORRECT” It replies. “WELCOME” the computer voice changed to imitate my girlfriends voice, giving the electronic voice a now soothing aesthetic quality.
I glance to see if the entire teams here. One solider I recognize to be Kurt comes stumbling up the stairs his helmet not even on. Sarge gives him a look of venom. Seeing the look Kurt quickly puts on his helmet and stands at attention.

  • 06.14.2007 9:08 PM PDT

when the census came around, for religion I put Bungie.

this is my first fan fic

  • 06.14.2007 9:16 PM PDT