Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam.
Chapter1: Foul Weather
Zoom, clunk, zap, zing, boom. WIN. LOSE.
"Man that was bullshit. I so had you." The bigger man said
"Yeah right, I cut your fat ass in half", replied the other man" hey it's late lets get midrats"
The big guy checked his watch. It said 2315. "Okay, comin' back up here afterward?"
"Na I'm going to bed" the other one said. They exit the room into a hallway lit with red lights.
Enter 1st person POV
I'm tired, hungry, and dirty. I've been working 12 hour days for a fucking week and a half.
Chipping, sanding and painted is all I ever do now days. My one bit of off time is getting play a few rounds
of 'O.M.N.I. vs. ZAFT' game on this Japanese PS2 I brought in Ahkihabara. The people I work for get
pissed when I tell them that the ship has gone hell in a hand basket. Now I'm about to some navy chow
that's left over from dinner because it's the only thing to eat at this hour.
The ship was rocking violently in the 20 foot seas and 40 knot winds. Someone with more brass on
his collar then brains in his head plotted our coarse thought a small inclination the weather that I call a
fucking typhoon. The two men walked down the dimly lit hallway tried not fall down. They went down a
steep set of stairs. They went in two different directions.
"Hey Sosa, where are you going?" the big one called. "I'm goin' for a smoke. I'll meet you down on the
messdecks, Camphouse"said Sosa.
"Smoking is bad. No smoking!" Camphouse said jokily. He then went down the next set of stairs. Sosa
continued down the hallway. He went several doors and down another set of stairs. Though yet another
door he was outside. The wind is howling outside.
This weather fucking sucks. Tomorrow they'll probably want to do an unrep. Good, I'll smoke the
last one in this pack and I have the new one in my pocket so I don't have buy another before quarters
tomorrow. What sucks is all I got is this cheap piece of shit lighter I found in my rack.
He stares out into the pitch blackness. Water splashes out onto the deck constantly. Lightning
flashed in the sky and thunder roared along with it. He hides in a small alcove to stay dry and keep his
balance. His cigarette dances in the air as he throws it over board, it disappear quickly in the darkness.
Rather than taking the same route he used to get outside, he walks pass door he used and exits the alcove
out onto the open deck. He feels around, as he tries to by navigate touch and memory.
Just then the ship hits a 30 foot wave. The front third of the ship lifts out of the water and rolls to
the left a few degrees. When the ship hit the water again, it takes a 30 degree roll on its left side. All over
the ship, any thing not tied down gets thrown with force. Dishes in the galley, books on desks and most
importantly people. Soon thereafter 3 people went down to sickbay. One need stitches on the back his head
for when slipped the shower. Another broke his nose when fell on the deck in his shop. And someone broke
her wrist when a door slammed shut on it. Some laughed some screamed some just stay asleep. But there
was one person who couldn't go to sickbay. He wasn't even on onboard any more. When the ship took the
roll the resulting wave reached all the way to the O2 level and partial submerged the cruiser's flight deck.
The water resided and he was gone.
Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck. The one time I use the weather decks to get inside I fall off
the god damn ship.
He swam to the surface. The torrents of rain and saltwater were there the greet him. He could see
the stern lights on the ship, they illuminated the words 'USS CHANCELLORSVILLE' in bold black
letters. They tossed along with the movement of the ship. He waved one arm as he treaded water. "HEY!
MAN OVERBOARD!" he yelled as loud as he could with the seas beating him down. His ship didn't
change coarse, it didn't blast its whistle, and the aft lookout did nothing. Wave after wave came down upon
him. The sea was an unrelenting bitch and the Sea of Japan was no different. He was lost at sea.
That's it. I'm fucked. Their not gonna turn around pick me up. Sighs. In about 5 minutes
hypothermia sets in. my legs will cramp up. I'll slip into unconsciousness and die. Good thing I got that
400,000 dollar life insurance policy. Things can't get worse then this.
Just then a bolt of lighting struck him and everything was black. In another time, at another place,
a different ship was having smooth sailing. Except is it was though the sea of space. On the ship's bridge,
people weren't fighting their mortal enemy, ZAFT, but fatigue. The captain sat in her control in the center
of the room. She yawned. "Are there ant contacts out there?" she asked as she glanced behind her. There
was a young brown haired girl asleep at the station she was calling. "Miriallia" the captain said louder than
before. The girl woke with a start. "I know it's late and we need sleep but you have to be alert on watch.
Are there any contacts?" she said. Miriallia checked her console. "Nothing in sensor range. N-Jammer
concentration is low. The ZAFT ships that been following us are no where to be found", Miralla said
tiredly.
The door to bridge opens and a few people float in. A blond man goes to the captain's chair.
"What interesting things are going on tonight, Captain Ramius?" he said with smile and tired look on his
face. "Right now we're fighting an up hill battle to stay awake, LT La Flaga" was her reply. "We should
meet up with the 7th Lunar fleet some time soon, right?" La Flaga asked. "Yes, hopefully. It should be a
quiet night" she said lightly.
She spoke too soon. The florescent lights by the door exploded and send an arc of electricity from
the ceiling down to the floor. With the broken glass and powder came an unexpected splash of water.
Miralla shrieked when the lights blew. Then she saw somebody floating in the middle of all of it. He
bounced gently off the ceiling and started back towards the floor. Mu La Flaga jumped over Miriallia's
station. Mu looked at him. He was wearing a one piece dark blue outfit on. It was smeared with different
shades of paint. Mu was more worried about the fact he wasn't breathing. Mu didn't know proper CPR so,
he improvised. Mu raised both hands over his head, balled them into fists, and hit the guy in the chest as
hard as he could. Mu was rewarded for his quick thinking with face full of puke from the man he was
trying to save. The guy bounced a few times as he continued to empty his stomach of bile and instant ramen
and his lungs of water. Everyone on the bridge just stared at Mu and the puking guy. Captain Ramius
grabbed her loudspeaker microphone; she yelled for a medical team to the bridge, nearly waking everyone
one board. A few minutes later they arrived with a first kit and a stretcher. The ship's doctor followed
them in. They strapped the guy to the stretcher and left.
"So much for a quiet night, I'll be right back I need to wash up and change shirts." La Flaga said
to Ramius. "By all means, go ahead", the captain sighed. "What else could go wrong?" She asked herself.
A/N: Supportive criticism is much appreciated. This is my first try at fiction.
