Sodium One: A Major Malfunction

by dominateeye

Salt Shooter sounded like the perfect way to keep the people occupied- action-packed warfare, but not against humans, providing a vital outlet for all the pent-up feelings of anger without the guilt of actual war. Until something goes terribly wrong, someone is killed, someone's responsible, and feelings about the game change. Suddenly, it's not a game anymore.

1. Chapter 1: Research

-S1-

Location: Salt Shooter Craft Maintenance Area

"...so as you can see, Salt Shooter is one hundred percent safe for the pilot. Every craft comes equipped with a fully-functioning ejection seat, in case of critical, life-threatening damage."

Two men proceed down a hallway, displaying various famous Salt Shooter crafts. One is dressed in bright blue-and-red overalls, denoting him as a Shooter craft mechanic. The other is dressed in the office garb of the day, a white shirt, dress pants, dress shoes and a bright red necktie with decorative buckles on.

"And is the ejection seat the only safety measure in effect?" the office worker asks.

"Well, technically, no. There are several readouts and sound alerts-"

"Aside from them."

"Not counting early warning systems and federally-mandated seat belts, then yes, the ejection seat is the only pilot safety measure installed." The mechanic delivers this line with monotony, as if it's a line he's delivered many times before.

"And- hypothetically- just what would happen if the ejection seat was to fail?"

"That wouldn't happen." The mechanic laughs.

"Humor me. Say it did."

"Oooo-kay. Well, first, you need to understand just what the ejection seat is. It's a pilot's seat which can be launched out of the Shooter craft by reduced-size rocket propulsion thrusters. It has its own fuel tank, as well as a way for the pilot to steer. Now, if the ejection seat was to fail in the sense that the thrusters never started and the seat never took off, then, if the pilot was skilled enough, they would have approximately thirty seconds to a minute to leave the area of danger so that the built-in repair nanobots could work before the craft exploded from damage, judging by the level of damage required to activate the ejection mechanisms. If they could not get out in time, then the pilot would die as the craft exploded.

"If the thrusters DID start but something prevented the separation and takeoff of the seat, then the pilot would most likely be burned alive."

"Burned alive?" the office worker questions, making sure he didn't mishear the other man.

"Burned alive."

"Don't you think it might be better to have another way of escape for the pilot, just in case the ejection seat DID fail?" the worker inquires, almost if he's digging for more information.

"Perhaps, but I'm not paid enough to make those decisions." The man's concerns are legitimate, though.

"And just who is?"

"I don't know. The parts manufacturers, the Salt Shooter Pilot's League, hell, maybe the government. You know how they've been pushing Salt Shooter ever since the Sodium Plains incident. Whoever's paying for it all, most likely. I mean, come on. Rebuilding Shooter crafts time and time again can't be cheap."

"True. Well, Mr. Strotovsky, thank you for your time. I'm sure I'll be able to use this information in my report." The man finally believes he has gotten all of the information he needs.

"Hey, I'll be getting Credits, right?"

"Yes, yes, of course. The story should be published in a few days."

-S1-

A/N: This chapter is, obviously to anyone who's read it before, changed up a bit. Before, it was comprised of all dialogue, which I feel turned readers off a bit- only around half of the readers of the first chapter continued on. I still feel that this is my most notable work, and I'd love to read what you think about my changes to this chapter and the story overall. Remember, constructive criticism is, to an author, more valuable than gold.

-ThisGuyHere