Location, Location, Location
July 10, 2172 21:23
Aboard the colonizing vessel DAWNING HOPE
EARTH (Seven minutes before final nuclear strike)
Evac from drop zone lead by unknown government
Operation: Last Minute Recruiting
"Hey-" yelled a pilot, one of the very few that were left on the planet, "Hey, demo-man'!"
"Don't call me that." said the man being yelled at by the pilot.
"Hey… hey, cyborg, get on board the ship. We gotta go!" he hollered from the hanger of ship to the "cyborg" when the cyborg, all of a sudden, jumped right in front of the pilot, grabbed him by the throat, and slammed him onto the wall of the hanger.
"Call me that again and I swear," he threatened, "that will be the last thing you say in your forsaken life." The cyborg's threat silenced the pilot and he let him go, dropping the pilot to the floor, leaving him to choke and gasp for breath as he looked for a seat nearby.
It was a stormy night and colonizing vessels began to take off into space. The Dawning Hope was the last of all of them that was left on the base. The cyborg found a seat and just sat there while paying close attention to his surroundings, wondering what he just agreed to.
"Sorry I have to do this." the pilot said as he tranquilized the cyborg, piercing his neck with a needle, forcing him into a deep slumber.
July 7, 2172 14:53
Rico's Bar
EARTH
Operation: Last Minute Recruiting
"Bartender, hook me up with another one." a drunken military man in uniform said while slamming his empty glass on the counter and wiping his mouth.
"Pilot, what are you doing here?" his Commanding Officer said in a tone of disappointment.
"The hell do you care?" the pilot said, swinging himself on his seat to face his C.O. whom took a seat beside him, "I can do whatever I want."
"Pilot, you and I both know that there are two reasons you'd be drinking like that at a place like this."
"And they is?"
"Well, one: you are celebrating a certain achievement or two: you…are…depressed."
"Its number two buddy."
"Enough with the drinking," the officer said in a disgusted tone as he takes the glass away from the drunk pilot. "Tell me, why are you depressed?"
"I lost my last lead."
"Are you talking about your personal investigation?"
"Yeah…hey…why are you here?"
"I received a letter for you from my superiors-"
"And?"
"And you are to report to this location," he handed the pilot a slip of paper with the information, "at a certain time."
"And what if I say no."
"Well, like the Marines say, its 'do or die,'" he said as he gulped the pilot's drink, stood up from the seat and walked away towards the door.
It took a while for the pilot to comprehend what he was told before he shouted, "I'm Air force dumb**s!" after his officer left the bar.
The next morning, the pilot woke up on his bed with a hangover, he got up and shifted to sit at the side of his bed. He pulled out the slip of paper and began to read, "The Dawning Hope will be leaving at 21:30, July 10, 2172, be there, or rest in peace." he said aloud as he read. He flips to see the back and he sees that his officer wrote a side note for him, DO OR DIE, was written on the back of the slip. "Ahh s**t," he says arrogantly after reading, "'guess I'll go."
July 10, 2172 20:37
EARTH
The loud hiss of pressurized air leaving the cryopod roused a large man from his cryogenic sleep.
"System: malfunction." Cried a mechanical voice, "Emergency cryopod release."
The pod's hatch flung open. Fresh air, or whatever could be considered as fresh air, rushed in to welcome the large man back to the world of the living. He took in a deep breath to fill his lungs with present-day air.
"Welcome…soldi…to…2172" the computer started to static and buzz at the most random moments when it would try to communicate.
"That's too d**n long." The man said, "What the hell happened here?"
The area was filled with five cryopods, including his pod, while wires and pipes scattered throughout the floor. Wires hung from the low ceiling, sending sparks across the messy floor every now and then.
After taking in the interior of the small area, the man finally decided to unbuckle himself and look around the area. He stopped in front of an unopened pod and stared intriguingly into it and said, "D**n, John. Why didn't you wake up?" He looked around at the other pods and to his dismay; all of them were filled with suffocated corpses. "Ah s**t! Frank, Era, Tom? Just what the f**k happened?"
He turned back to his pod to pick up his gear and picked up a bottle filled with his favorite beverage.
Rum.
As he walked out of the small tight space, he began to drink his rum. He turned to look at his fallen comrades for the last time and said, "It's been an honor serving with you all." He turned to face the door to the exit and left with the words semper fi running through his head as a silent prayer.
Outside the door, he spotted a small electronic-note in the shape of a small pen. He pulled out the small holographic screen from it to read what it said.
To the loyal soldiers of Vault: 1E-55,
Due to your excellent performance on the battlefield, you five have been granted access to board
the Dawning Hope colonizing ship.
Arriving at the location was a tall, muscular man, with a bottle of rum in his left hand and the note on the right. He looked at the note and back towards the landscape, the skies were clear of any past storm clouds. An abandoned launching station with a few acres of green grass flowed next to it. He looked around in confusion as he sat down on the hard floor and looked over the horizon to gaze upon the dozens of lights escalating into the sky. They're bombing the d**n planet, he thinks to himself as he sees the first few nukes beginning to hit the land all around him with him being at the bare minimum of a safe distance from the blast radius. He just stayed where he was. Sitting down, not bothering to move to cover or to any form of safety from the force of impact from the missiles as they hit him.
He sat there for another few minutes until he notices a helmet of a soldier a few meters away. He finally stood up after a few minutes of just staring at the helmet, stretched his stiff limbs and joints, took a sip of rum, and walked towards the helmet.
"The communicator should still be intact." he said to himself as he walked towards the helmet. He picked up the helmet and tore out the communicator from the inside and placed it on his ear. "Hope this still works," he said to himself and turns on the communicator.
"Sir, we're receiving a transmission signal." A crewman aboard the bridge of a vessel announced to the captain.
"Where from?" The captain asked.
"Earth, Sir."
"Earth? Pilot, look at the planet, it's bombarded from nukes, how can there even be a signal?"
"Sir, shouldn't we just check…just in case?"
"Alright pilot, put it on speaker."
The pilot flicked a few switches and pressed a few buttons. After he was done, he looked to the captain and gave the 'okay' to speak.
"This is the captain of La Habra Head Quarters, do you copy?" the captain listens for a while and only hears radiation static interference from the com link. "You see pilot, its noth-"
"Aaaaayyyy," the man from earth said through the ear piece he was wearing, "the hell are you guys? Ya'll said you's gonna be here at 21:30."
"Soldier, we said we were leaving at 21:30." the captain responded in an annoyed tone. There was static for a good moment.
"Oooohhhh." was all the man could reply with.
"Sir, I'm gonna patch you to the pilot, is that understood?" the captain asked.
"Oh sure, take all the time ya need." the man replied sarcastically.
"Sir this is Pilot Scott Richards of the La Ha-"
"SCOTIEEEEEE!...do me a favor and beam me up…pleeeeeaaase…pretty pleeeaaase, pretty please with a cherr-"
"Sir, are you drunk?" the pilot interrupted the man's pathetic begging.
A brief pause occurred. "I don't really know…I had nothin' to do but drink, so, um…maybe?" he said as sincerely as possible.
"I can smell it from here-" the pilot muttered.
"D******(lasts for like five minutes)***N…how?"
"Sir, are you intoxicated by radiation?"
"Maybe, I dunno, is that how ya get drunk?"
"We're sending a ship to get you, and a Haz-Mat crew as well to your location."
"Don't hurry!" the man replied sarcastically.
A few hours later, at the brink of dawn, a medium sized gunship arrived and landed on the field right in front of the man. He saw a bright light as the door to the body at the side of the ship began to open. A crew of three men in haz-mat suits walked out to greet the man.
"Sir, have you experienced any side-effects from the radiation from here?" the lead man of the haz-mat crew asked suspiciously since they were standing on a hazardous area.
"I tol' ya I'm not drunk or incoxitated." the man responded. He brought the bottle of rum to his lips only to realize that he finished drinking the last drops of rum. He bursted into tears, startled the crew, and started crying, "Why? Why is the rum always gone…why…WHY!?" he managed to say in between sobs.
"Um, Sir, we need you to come with us to La Habra."
"I'm not going anywhere. (sniffles a bit) you don't understand, the rum is all gone!" he yelled at the three suited men.
The leader thought for a moment, trying to find a way to bring the drunk back to home base. "Sir," the leader hesitantly started, "we have a bar on the station." he said and flinches right after, expecting another outburst of some sort.
The man looked enlightened at the leader's statement and began to walk towards them. "Well then, whatcha waitn' for, let's go." he said as he walked and shoved himself through their formation. At his third step after going through the crew, he blacked out and slammed onto the floor, causing a loud thud.
"Help me get this big guy onboard." the leader of the crew said, annoyed at the fact that he and his crew had to go through great lengths just to rescue a drunk.
