Second chapter. Choir has had it rough so far, and its not about to let up.
The Spartan Chronicles
Chapter 2: Air Sickness
Coming to the hub, Choir had been on a small, low-grade military transport where he had been assigned his armor. It had been the most uncomfortable trip he had ever taken. That was up until the moment he boarded transport 7354-AER. There was only enough room in the vessel to sit in a lone chair in the back of the ship. Across from the chair ten feet away was a small rectangular panel with a glass circle on it; it was probably the on-board computer. Choir looked back at the time he had spent in the hub. He noted that it was probably for the best that he didn't get his hands on the Warthog since there would have been no way to take it with him.
After about an hour, Choir had begun to go stir-crazy from the lack of anything to do on the unmanned vessel. Then he got the idea to try to calm his nerves by talking at the little panel on the wall; he had seen it in a movie once. It would be like Castaway, only more pitiful.
"Hi. I'm Choir. I've never talked at a computer before, so here goes nothing," he began awkwardly. Suddenly, responding to his voice, the glass on the panel lit up a bright red with a red circle in the center as the light source. "Hello, Choir. It is pleasant to meet you." Choir was sufficiently crept out by the activation of this computer. "Whoa! I didn't know this ship had an AI system thingy." "Affirmative. I am the AI of this vessel. I am the H.A.L.10,000. I control the onboard systems and…"
"Hold on, Hold on. H.A.L.? I saw that 2001 Odyssey movie with you in it. That thing killed all the astronauts." "Affirmative. But that was the 9000 model. I have a new system balance and check program. This model is 95 less homicidal." "Oh yeah, that makes me more comfortable," Choir remarked. "So long as you don't try to kill me on this trip, I'm happy."
Sure, he was getting paranoid and anxious every passing moment of the trip from that point on, but at least fear took over boredom, and that was an improvement in Choir's mind. "T-minus 2 minutes till arrival at Zanzibar," the computer alerted Choir. He was glad that this wretched experience would be over soon. Soon, he would be kicking back in a private fortress without a killer computer staring back at him with that piercing gaze. Just then, Choirs eyes grew heavy and shut hard. "Dang!" "Ha. The thought of you wining this staring contest was laughable. I cannot be beaten." The ship then shook a bit. This was soon followed by a constant turbulence; this was made worse by the fast that this tiny ship had no seat belt, causing Choir to be knocked around the ship like a pinball in the bumpers.
"Caution: entering atmosphere. Prepare for turbulence."
"Yeah. Thanks a lot."
The ship finally leveled out a moment later. The reverse thrusters kicked in and the ship began to slow down. Choir quickly got back to his seat, grasping the chair arms as though they were the only thing between him and a horrid death. Just as he began to calm down and loosen up, the H.A.L. started to give another alert. "Drop site arrival complete. Prepare to be evacuated." "Hold up. We're not on the ground." "This is a nonstop flight. Please remain seated for the remainder of the ride." What was left to expect at this moment but the worst. What could possibly happen now?
The floor beneath the chair Choir had firmly planted himself into opened up, sending him and his seat plummeting towards the ground. Moments before impact, a small parachute opened to slow Choir's landing to just a heavy thud and a feeling of nausea. It was several minuets before Choir could stop shaking enough to leave his chair.
Choir, now only slightly off kilter, looked ahead to see the new base. The remaining paint was peeling off the sides, the gates were in horrible disrepair, the smell of death still hung in the air even though the place hadn't been used in centuries, and he could tell just from the outside that the comm. systems on the inside would be limited in the best-case scenario. Looking at the area around the base, the landscape was covered in thick foliage. It was a miracle that Choir didn't hit one of the great trees that almost covered the immediate area.
One word could be uttered in the sheer awe of this sight: "Crap!"
Woo! Chapter two! Give me some input if you read this. I'm always looking to improve.