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  • Subject: Fan-Fiction: The New Mombasa Chronicles
Subject: Fan-Fiction: The New Mombasa Chronicles

Why hello there.

As you might imagine this is a fan-fiction in the below posts. This is not the first one I’ve written, but it’s the first one I’ve “published” per se. Unlike most of the typical fan-fictions out there, none of these stories are connected in any way other than location. This is not one storyline, but a multiple perspectives of the events that transpired on October twenty-fifth, 2552.

If you miraculously like this "sample" below, I'll be trying to add another full story every other day.

Originally I planned simply to keep it at in a short story format; if anyone enjoys it though I may expand with one. So if you did actually take the time to read what’s below please tell me if I should continue these stories or not. Thanks.

-YF

Post Script: I don’t have the greatest grasp of the English language. Please excuse my grammatical errors riddled throughout this short read.

Approved by Skibur and Duardo (who totally rock!).

The great Abyss

The dense smoke covered any eyes from seeing the vast walls of fire that resisted all attempts to burn them out. Bullets and plasma still filled the entire sky, wreckage continued to fall from the sky above, screaming ships would fly mere meters above your head and leave you completely deaf to the explosion that would kill you immediately afterward.

Never before had any score of the thousand worlds seen such complete destruction, violence, and endless blood. The gritty streets were filled with the bleeding and the dying; their decaying bodies left for the buzzards. The air itself was filled with the stench of adrenaline, sweat, and death. Occasionally a large explosion would rock the ground and send buildings collapsing on each other.

It was impossible to breath, literally. It was now mandatory to go out into the thick air with respirators to filter out all of the noxious fumes and glittering pieces of deadly metal that would tear into your lungs and kill you faster than anything else would. Coughing was unavoidable. Despite the thick and latest technologies to rid your lungs of smoke; everyone quickly realized that it missed enough to make your eyes bleed and your lungs burn.

Those in the skies did not have it easy however. Mortars, anti-air turrets, and simple ground troops were all making a mass effort to remove you from their sky. One had to fly high to avoid the complete blindness down below, but that’s where the fighting was taking place, that’s where the pilots had to be. Death was nearly inevitable, even from simple collisions. That was why every pilot was ordered to drop his entire payload within the first thirty seconds. You only had one shot at the destruction you were hired for. And that was before they made their counter-strike.

The enemy pilots were not only more experienced, better equipped, and better armed, but they also outnumbered the surviving forces two to one. No matter how thick the atmosphere got, no matter how safe you thought you were, screaming death would always find you. Your ears were constantly attuned for the sound of a missile-lock on your tail-fin. Some said it was hell. I say we now have something with which to compare hell to once were killed by the endless enemies.

The 203rd airborne division was ordered to protect the skies over New Mombasa where the heaviest resistance was encountered. We went down their, wave after wave, no protection or hope for ever coming back. From the statistics I was able to glean before my roster came up half the men never made it out of re-entry. The half that did make it through the endless barrage of the most accurate defense turrets ever seen on any battlefield were soon wiped clean by the patrolling hoards of what had been appropriately labeled Letums. Of the hundred or so of the men commanded to dive down into that burning inferno, one came up alive.

When asked on what he had done to survive he completely blanked out. His eyes looked dead, and wouldn’t break their gaze that pierced your soul and sent you screaming out of there. Something was not right with the man. A couple minutes later a large explosion rocked the docking bay. The one man to have survived death had had a bomb strapped to his chest, killing several key pilots and destroying several personal aircraft.

No one was anxious to dive their nose down into Satan’s domain. That was before a Covenant armada was detected coming out of Slipspace behind a fleet very near to our own. Men dove into that inferno quicker than ever. We all knew that the shabby, and near desolate ships from which we took off were no match for the far more advanced Covenant cruisers. At least down there the chance of desertion was possible.

The numbers ahead of mine were being called. I could hear their names being called out for their names. Ironically, the dreaded sound of the announcer’s voice was always sure to remind each of the troops it called of the service he or she signed up for and the honor to be gained from it. The men all thought that this was a ridiculous procedure; a necessary one albeit. Once it came turn for one’s name to be called, the soothing voice reminding you of the dream we all had was almost God’s.

Though the choices were not at all random nor chosen by the announcer, it certainly felt like it. Everyone stood idle waiting to hear their number and name announced. A few people made jokes, others talked, some wrote their last words and will, most were completely silent and still. The scene was very unsettling.

A scent was in the air that I had only smelt on other place. The fields of Gibesh. The Covenant had entrenched themselves on the plains rather than risk fighting in the mountains where their armor couldn’t fight. Most of the field wasn’t what the typical person would think. The entire area was more of a swampy breeding ground for diereses than a field. Foolishly or wisely, we couldn’t tell, the Covenant had paved a road of sorts through this field leading straight to our objective at the time. With no options left, our commander ordered us onto that very road. The march was arduous and lasted for days until we saw any sign of the Covenant. The scream of a Banshee here; the discharge of plasma there; we couldn’t see it, but we were surrounded on all sides by the most fearsome opponents in the universe.

We passed our fifth night surrounded by all of these sounds and did our best to remain quiet and hidden. Fear was in the air, so thick one could smell and almost taste it. We were all terrified. That was before the snapping of energy swords though and the decapitated bodies.

I was abruptly brought back to reality to the sound of my name and number being called. Everyone cast their gazes on the living dead. They all offered words of encouragement but all of it was ignored. All I wanted to do was make final peace with the God above, climb in my cockpit, and die the dignified death of a UNSC pilot. The claps of my boots against the metal ground made an almost satisfying sound. I made my way to my coffin. It stood as all the others did. Gleaming and shinning with several new coats of oil and paint. The cockpit was removed of debris and the pieces of moldy food that always seemed to be in the corners. Washed and rinsed countless times, it looked better than it ever had in all of its history.

I could see my pale face staring back at me through the reflection on the cockpit. I literally looked like a dead man at his burial ceremony. Time seem to slow as I slung my legs over the side and sat down in my plush, yet small, pilot’s chair. I looked out on the area that had become my home. All of my friends waving goodbye, some were crying as the new they would never see me again and I them. My famous stamina failed me as tears of my own dropped down and stained my suit. I placed my shaking hands on the controls and turned towards the doorway. Calmly the announcer’s voice began to tell me all that I had heard countless times. I lingered on each word and listened to the smoothness of the language. In this tumultuous time it sounded almost soothing.

The voice began to run through a virtual checklist in preparation for the dive I was to take. Engines were checked, weapons inspected, cockpit quickly brushed clean—nothing was left to chance. Finally the time came for me to put my shaky hand on the cool joystick and slowly begin my approach towards the vacuum of space. I heard the bloods rushing through my veins, I tasted anticipation and horror in my mouth, I felt cold sweat running down my back, something we like to call fear. I got the go ahead from the announcer behind the desk and throttled forward out of the ship, out into the great abyss.

End of The Great Abyss

[Edited on 12.13.2008 6:31 AM PST]

  • 12.12.2008 7:50 PM PDT

-reserved post for further expansion of The New Mombasa Chronicles-

  • 12.12.2008 7:50 PM PDT

-reserved post for further expansion of The New Mombasa Chronicles-

  • 12.12.2008 7:51 PM PDT

Glory to Jesus Christ

Great description YF, I can perfectly picture several of the settings. The descriptions are as good as some best selling novels' I have read, and I'm not just being nice, I'm 100% serious. The story is a bit hard to follow though, but it seems like it will be full of awesomeness if you continue to write this. One suggestion I can make is to try to give us some background detail about the main character. Good job, keep it up!

  • 12.12.2008 8:31 PM PDT

Posted by: WB Wolves
One suggestion I can make is to try to give us some background detail about the main character.


Problem is that it's a short story and not supposed to continue beyond the provided ending. Ergo, further background is unnecessary.

  • 12.13.2008 6:30 AM PDT