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Unknown Contact: Prologue
Posted By: juble<josh_davis1@adelphia.net>
Date: 10 July 2007, 4:18 pm
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NOTE: My first fan fic turned out horrible, so I decided to do something completely different. I personally feel that my writing style has gotten better as well. So, here is my, in my oppinion, first real fan fiction.
PROLOGUE
0300 HOURS, September 21, 2525 (Military Calender)/
UNSC frigate Astrollo en route to planet Cyran 2,
Iguanas system
Private Nicholas Rose slammed a fresh clip into his MA3B assault rifle. He pulled the cocking lever and let it go with a satisfying click. He then checked to make sure that the weapons' personnel computer system, which checked every bullet left in the clip and showed the number on a screen on top of the rifle, was in working order. The light-green screen read 45, meaning the rifle was working fine.
Nick stared at the rifle, as if expecting it to say something. The weapon was made of a black colored steel, with the butt of the gun a bright grey. The handhold connected to the butt and the middle of the gun, making a twin circle gap, the middle of it where the trigger was held. It also had a built in flashlight on the side, and a spot to place a bayonette in the front. The computer system was on the top of the weapon, placed where a scope could have gone.
The weapon itself was top-grade. It used 7.8mm armor piercing rounds in a 45 ammo clip. It could fire in single shot, three burst, or fully automatic, but Nick preferred to keep his weapon on a constant three-round-burst. The weapon kicked like a horse, so full-auto would put your arm out of commission if you managed to hold onto it.
Nick lifted his gaze from the gas-operated weapon to the room he was in. It was a standard weapons locker, meaning the only accomidations were sets of armor, guns, grenades, and rockets. Rack after rack was full of military standard-issue battle arms.
Nick looked to his left to meet the gaze of one of his squad mates, Jason. Jason was really short compared to the tall Nick, so he naturally looked up to meet his green eyes.
"Something wrong?" Jason asked with a confused look.
"Nah," Nick said, clipping an M6C pistol to his waist. "Probably just pre-battle jitters."
"We all have it," Jason assured, tightening his combat boot, "Aint that right, Sarge?!"
A mid-height, buff man walked up to Jason. Unlike the rest of the five man squad, he was already prepared, MA3B in hand. "Me? No way, son. A real soldier has no need for such emotions."
The Sergeant rubbed a hand through his short, grey hair. "But, I do get an adrenaline rush at the start of a battle."
"Yeah." Nick said, sliding on his wrist guards, "Right."
"What?" the Sergeant asked, his scarred face with a cheerful expression, "you don't get that pump of energy?"
"Hell no." Nick replied, "My 'pump' is to get the fuck out of dodge and live to see the next day."
"Good concept, man." Jason replied sarcastically, "That'll earn you a ticket back home."
Jason stood up, covered in his battle armor. All that was missing was his helmet, which was promptly slid on. Jason's black hair still showed, and contrasted with his pale skin, making him seem even whiter.
"Whatever." Nick said, placing a tan hand on his helmet. "Who said I wanted to go home, anyway?"
Jason looked back, he already had the green optic sensor over his right eye. Nick couldn't see through that, even though Jason could, so he only saw one blue eye. "Who said that I said that you said you wanted to go home?"
"Exactly" Nick said, as he approached the two other soldiers.
Raheem approached the group. He was the biggest of the group, and seemed to tower over them all. "Hey, Sarge?" the black man asked, "I can't get my wrist guards on, sir."
Sarge turned to face him. "Let me see."
Raheem showed that the wrist guards wouldn't fit by attempting to put them on again. "See? It's not fitting."
"Did it fit last time you had them on?" Sarge asked, looking confused.
"Yeah, it was a bit tight, but yeah." Raheem stated.
"Have you been working out again?" someone called from the weapons locker next to them.
"Yeah, I have Darren." Raheem called to the lightly tanned, skinny man putting on armor.
"There's your problem," the man said without glancing up. "You're getting too damn big, pal."
"I can't help it that I'm a beast!" Raheem chuckled. "But, that does make since."
Sarge walked over to another locker, and threw him another pair of wrist guards. "There you go, son. That should fit." The Sergeant took the other one and placed it in an empty locker, "and if it don't fit, then you're screwed, 'cause they don't come in any sizes bigger than that."
"It's all good." Raheem said as he placed the parts in place, "Snug as a bug."
"Alright." Darren exclaimed as his skinny hands pulled at a part on his helmet, "I'm all set."
"About time!" Sarge yelled, "now, you ladies sure you got everything?"
"Yes, sir!" they cried in unison.
"Good, now get to our ship! I'll meet you there. On the double!"
The Sergeant watched his squad exit the room in a horribly disordered fasion. He'd have to fix that.
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