Short Stories

[Megapand25]

Well, after consideration, I've decided to try my hand at this. Tell me what you think!

Wasteland: A Single Shot

Mega leveled his rifle against the rock he was perched behind, allowing a sigh of boredom to slip past his lips. It had been hours, and yet the USRC convoy that Saracen had warned them about was nowhere to be seen. Instead of relaxing back at Sub-Harenae, he was now stuck watching an empty pathway for the foreseeable future.

"Ugh ... see anything, Boo?" He asked, tilting his head so he could address his partner properly.

"Nope ... just empty space." The man replied, rolling his eyes as he cleaned his rifle for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Not quite sure what you're in the rush to get back to."

"Hey, I had … things. I just wanted to … hang out, you know?" Mega stated awkwardly, averting his gaze once more. Of course, this attracted his partner's attention, and invited a sly smile to creep up his face.

"Oh? You going drinking with your girlfriend again? Vera, was it?"

Mega nearly choked on the water he had been sipping, whipping back around to face the other man with a frantic wave of his hands.

"What?! N-no! Well, maybe, that's-er, shut up!"

"Hmm ... you sure showed me." Boo snarked, a sky smile still present on the man's face. Mega muttered a series of explicatives cursing the man's family before turning his attention to the path, perking up.

"Hey, hey! USCR inbound." He whispered. Boo immediately got serious, shifting back to his own spot and leveling his rifle on the approaching convoy. There was only ten soldiers and a single, rusted jeep. Boo turned back to his masked partner, and gave him a thumbs up.

"Ready when you are."

Mega nodded in confirmation, and looked down his rifle scope, locking onto the main soldier's helmeted head instantly. For a single second, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. If he could trust Nato or the PHU. He stuffed the thoughts away.

Then he pulled the trigger.

[NatoGreavesy]

Very nice. It really adds to the story you've been building around Mega in your comic.

[Spartanz19]

//ONI DATABASE #21887//

//ENTER PASSWORD//

//—VERIFYING PASSCODE ***********, ending in 7Hn0//

//VERIFICATION COMPLETE, ACCESS GRANTED//

//-SEARCH KEYWORD: SRGT/GREEN-//

// —2132 MATCHES, FURTHER SPECIFICATIONS NEEDED— //

// —SEARCH KEYWORD: SRGT/HENRY/P/GREEN— //

// {1} RESULT, HIGHER CLEARANCE NEEDED//

// INITIATING RETNAL SCAN //

//99.8 PERCENT MATCH, ACCESS GRANTED//

/ARTICLE BEGIN/

— Srgt. Henry Green
Born January 19, 2472
MIA, deemed KIA around 2499

//BIO BEGIN?//

Srgt. Green enlisted to the marines at age 18, in 2490, during the war against the Insurrection. Was stationed at a UNSC armory, containing almost all weapons of the time, from tanks to VTOLs, to small arms and armored transports. Most importantly, there were 12 cutting edge nuclear missiles, the object of the insurgents attack on the base.

On a brisk November night, when Srgt. Green, the six men under his command, and one more squad were on night watch, a daring ambush took place. They were in the fairly outdated command post, on the roof of the armory building. It had several older module computers, and a short range radar to detect aircraft. The armory was surrounded by a 9 foot tall chain link fence with vicious barbed wire applied generously throughout. The armory had a single anti-aircraft weapon, firing self guided surface-to-air misiles. It had a standing garrison of 150 marines. 12-15 were assigned night watch, while the rest slept in a single large building.

An insurrection UAV, which was designed to look exactly like a civilian aircraft, flew towards the no-fly zone around the armory. Upon crossing the line, several alarms went off in the command center. A half-asleep man, sitting at a computer reported that a civilian aircraft just entered the no fly zone. He also said something about “Drunken idiots.” Srgt. Green hailed the aircraft, saying, “You are in a no fly zone, turn around immediately. You’ve got ten seconds before you’ll be blasted out of the sky.” Only static came back. “Thermal scan that thing,” yelled the sergeant. “No heat signatures, minus the vehicle’s systems,” the man at the computer said, now wide awake. “Bring it down!” yelled Srgt. Green. The man at the table helplessly asked what the defense-clearance code was. A situation like this had never arisen before.

By the time the password was entered, and the air defense took aim, the unmanned aircraft had already begun its 80 degree dive toward the barracks.

//—!IDLE WARNING! ENTERING PAUSE—//

// RE-ENTER PASSWORD TO RESUME?//

Interesting...

[nigelninja11]

Very nice. It really adds to the story you've been building around Mega in your comic.

Agreed, I’m putting it on the Wasteland forum as well.

[Megapand25]

Well, since the last one got such a good reaction, here's another story with dear ol' Mega.

Wasteland: Just One Night

Welcome back to 80.6 FAKE NEWS RADIO!

Stock market is up, prices are down and the USRC has just declared global peace with the mutants forever!! More news at 10:00!

"Were it so easy … " Mega deadpanned, rolling his eyes and switching the station yet again. The radio in The Leg-Up Bar was old and fragile, but since it was the only source of music in Sub-Harenae, he was willing to fiddle with it.

"Say what you will about that fake news station, but I think it's entertaining." Vera admitted, swirling her drink idly in her glass. "It's stupid, yeah, but at least it's not propaganda."

"You got me there." Mega replied, followed by a proud "Ah ha!" as another channel filtered through the box.

"And welcome back to Funk 104.7!" A cheery voice chirped, ever so slightly muffled by the typical interference that accompanied any broadcast. "By request, here come's a classic; Disco Inferno!"

Seconds later, a funky beat erupted from the radio, filling the normally quite and secluded bar. Mega immediately started tapping his foot to the beat, which quickly shifted to him shimming in place, moving to the beat of song with a grin on his face all the while.

"You look like an idiot." Vera informed her friend pleasantly, a rare smile on her face as Mega continued to dance.

"Maybe so, but I'm having a blast!" He retorted punctuated by a playful spin which ended with some jazz hands. This earned a laugh from both Vera and the rest of the bar's occupants, several of whom had also started grooving ever so slightly to the song. Mega extended his hand to Vera, and raised his eyebrows expectantly. "May I have this dance, milady?

Vera rolled her eyes, but accepted the wastelander's hand and allowed him to haul her to her feet. "Don't make me regret this, Mega."

"I make no promises~" He snarked, before resuming his dancing. Soon enough, the entire bar was either dancing along to the song or simply enjoying to music. Even Thorn, the normally stoic and unfazed bartender, cracked a smile and drummed his fingers along to the beat.

The Wasteland was a terrible place. It was full of death, betrayal, chaos, and the constant threat of war.

But for that one night? It wasn't such a bad place to be.

[Spartanz19]

You haven’t had fun til you’ve danced to the USSR anthem.

[Survivor11]

You haven’t had fun til you’ve danced to the USSR anthem.

Long live the Soviet remnant?

No.

Long live the Wasteland.

[NatoGreavesy]

Even in the Wasteland, enjoying the little things is important.

[81Ceta_Deta]

Ceta’s Story- listen to homegrown by Haux

The two spartan-iiis walked through the wastes of the planet, a damaged outpost in the distance.
"Hopefully, there's some help at that outpost. Some other people would help my sanity," Ceta joked, looking at the grey spartan next to him.
"Yeah, sure. Like you're not annoying," the other said.
"Oh, come on, Tyler! When was the last time anyone said anything like that?"
Ceta smiled beneath his helmet.
"Just two minutes ago," Tyler smarted off.
Ceta shook his head, and looked up again at the distant building. It was battered, with burns in the walls, and a damaged walkway. A marine lay dead on the walkway, slumped over on the railing. A shipping container lay on the ground outside the walls, a few burns here and there.
"Looks cozy." Tyler said, raising his battle rifle.
"Yeah..." Ceta muttered, checking to make sure his gun was ready. The MA5 thankfully had a full clip. Ceta looked around the outpost a second time, but this time saw a faint image on one of the shipping containers.
It was orange and silver, with a long eel-like neck and giant legs. It stood with a long rifle, its face pressed close to it, its finger around the trigger...
"Get down!" Ceta shouted at Tyler as the alien fired, a laser sound filling the air, and a beam if energy penetrated Tyler's chest armor, tossing the multi-ton soldier to the ground.
"No!" Ceta screamed, and looked back at the moaning heap of a man. He looked again at the container, his finger pressed down on the trigger, bullets firing from the gun. Emotions swept over Ceta. Hate, frustration, anger, fear and put it all into killing the alien, to getting revenge, to.. .to... Ceta didn't know what. Tears overcame him behind the helmet, whilst bullets still rang from his Assault Rifle. Tyler groaned more, and Ceta stopped shooting. Besides, he couldn't see the wretched alien anywhere. He rushed over to where Tyler lay on the ground, a pool of blood surrounding his sternum.
"It's gonna be okay, it's gonna okay..." Ceta said to Tyler, fear and sadness gripping at his false shield of bravery and toughness.
"Helmet..." Tyler moaned, and began to remove his helmet, although very weakly.
Ceta took off his own, tossing it to the ground. He then leaned over his friend, and helped remove the helmet. It came off with a hiss, and they dropped it to the side.
"Ce-Ceta...."
"Yes, brother?"
Tyler coughed, and grabbed at Ceta's hand. He pulled his friend in.
"Wi-win the war... live a life.. would ya...?" The words came out slowly, albeit pain was taking over Tyler. Ceta held back tears, but couldn't stop them. The warm watery feel streaked down his cheeks again.
"Get a girlfriend.... don't let the UNSC.." Tyler coughed again, "-co-control you.."
"I-I will, I promise you," Ceta said, and felt his friend's grip loosen, then fall. His cheeks burned, and he looked down at the body of his friend. It lay still, death stealing a friend from Ceta again. The spartan stood, and reached to grab his friend's helmet. He picked it up, its weight drooped his hands down. He looked at its visor, bent down and grabbed his own, and placed his own helmet on.
"I'll avenge you, brother. You and Kaci both," he said aloud, his voice regaining its confidence. He looked off at the sunset, its beautiful purple and orange wisps stealing away the blue sky, and the three suns shone above the horizon, slowly sinking below the mountains in the distance.
"Time to finish the job." He said, grabbing his MA5 and standing straight.


I posted pictures depicting this on the gallery. Hope they went through.

[Survivor11]

Looks like they don't have shields.