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Fan Fiction

Survival of the Fittest: The beginning
Posted By: MasterCD<carleighcat@hotmail.com>
Date: 13 January 2004, 2:11 AM

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"Hey Sarge! I think I saw this one twitch!"
"Well, make sure then! Check his pulse, remember?"
"Yes sir, right away sir."
A bright light flashed through his eyelids, sending pain crackling through his skull. He tried to speak, to tell them to turn their stupid lights off, but all that came out was a strangled moan.
"Yep, this one's definitely alive. Do you have a porta-stretcher?"
"Here private. Be careful, you don't know how badly injured he might be."
Warm fingers, probing, gently checking his condition.
"He looks okay. A couple of scrapes and bruises, and a helluva lump on his head, but that's about it."
"Yeah, well, we'll leave that for the medics to decide, Jackson. Now hurry up. We don't have long."
He felt himself being carefully lifted, and placed on rough fabric. With a jolt, he started to move. A whirring sound filled the air. He tried to open his eyes. It felt like they were glued shut. Finally, after a great effort, his lids lifted. A rough face filled his vision.
"It's alright son. We're taking you to the hospital." This sounded like an explanation, but so much information was missing. He tried to speak, but black waves fell across his vision, and he passed out.


After four days in the hospital, he was starting to get irritated. The first day was spent unconscious. The second day he finally woke, to find several faces staring at him. They asked him a few questions, checked whether he had concussion or not and generally left him alone. On the third day, all hell broke loose.
A bunch of important looking officials barged in, and started interrogating him. What were you doing out there? Who was in command? Who was the driver? Did you see any Covenant? Why did you crash? His head was still spinning with all the enquiries!
At this point, a nurse walked in, interrupting his mutinous thoughts. He glared at her.
"Yes?" His voice was tight with frustration and restlessness. The nurse merely smiled at him.
"I daresay you're getting tired of this place, huh? Don't worry, I'm here to give you a short test, then you can go." He sighed. Finally, he could go and start up his life again.
"Okay, first question: what is your name?"
"My name is Jason Mac Taylors."
"Your age?"
"I'm 18 this December."
"Where do you live?"
"At the Trader's Complex, south of Primary Base. Sub-base 4 is only two jumps away to the left.
"I'm an apprenticed Trader, also provide a bit of security for the ships."
The nurse smiled at him.
"Technically, there are many more questions, but you seem to be just fine. Okay, you're free to go. Some clothes are in the bathroom, and present this card to the attendant at the desk. Well, hurry up Taylors!"
Taylors was dressed and ready in record time. He strolled down to the desk, and waved his card under the attendant's nose.
"Jason Mac Taylors, now exiting!"
But, five metres from the door, everything went wrong.
The door exploded in a flash that sprayed shrapnel everywhere. Taylors instinctively flung himself down, arms around his head for protection. When things seemed to have quieted down slightly, he raised his head - and saw a nightmare.
A small army of Covenant had stealthily slipped through the base's defences, and were now in the centre of the base, and attacking everything in sight. Taylors froze for a moment, then came rapidly back to life as he rolled aside to avoid a plasma burst that melted the floor next to him.
He glanced around frantically, and grabbed the first thing he saw - a 5 foot pole. As a Grunt charged at him, shrieking, he twisted, rammed the pole into its gut and flipped the Grunt into its partner.
The attendant was lying slumped in a pool of blood, so he assumed she was out of commission. Outside, there were sounds of gunfire and shouting, so the Marines must have caught onto what was happening.
Taylors turned, meaning to find somewhere he could make a stand, and found himself face-to-face with an Elite with a nasty grin on its face.
The Elite was a recently promoted Commander, and determined to make his first official assault a successful one. He leered at the puny Human, who dared molest him, armed with a pathetic stick. His scorn swiftly changed to surprise and then outrage as the Human ducked down, and shoved the stick into a place most Humans would not appreciate. Unluckily for Taylors, Elites, although they look fairly humanoid, have a few different features. One of those is the location of the reproductive system, aka - gonads. In other words - he missed.
Taylors recovered from his initial surprise that the Elite didn't crumple quite quickly. He had to, to avoid the swipe the Elite took at him. Quickly he wedged the stick between his legs and twisted, throwing the Elite off balance. He then smacked it full in the face with the stick. It roared in anger and fired wildly, trying to make him move away. But Taylors kept swinging, driving the Elite backwards. When it was in position he gave one final whack, and knocked the Elite over.
Onto the exposed electrical wire that had been severed by plasma shot.
Taylors turned away from the fried Elite, and gazed around. Most of the other Covenant had been subdued, having underestimated the ferocity of the Humans.
A Marine Commander walked in, and surveyed the damage Taylors had done. He raised his eyebrows.
"You should consider a post in the Marine Corps, young man. I'd say you're a natural! And all with a stick!"
Taylors replied, straight faced. "Well, sir, it's survival of the fittest out here!"

!There you go, my attempt. Any comments, advice or such - email me at carleighcat@hotmail.com please! MasterCD