First I just want to say, this is not a story I plan on going along with for a long time, it is just something to heed me over while I work on my Spy Fan Fic. Anyway, enjoy...

A New Dawn

I

The jungle was hot and humid, everywhere you looked there was nothing but more dead jungle. In the dead radiated trees, mutated creatures leapt from tree branch to tree branch; watching our every move. We had been living out in the wild jungle, since we were born. It was second nature for us, but those before us had been forced to begin starting anew. My typical AER9 Laser Rifle rested in my hands as we moved along. Our “Advanced Power Armor” giving us a bit of leeway as we moved through the muck and dirt; that was the jungle floor. My breath was calm and cool as my squad and I moved, our destination a secret facility deep in the Brazilian jungle know as: Fort Rio.

The fort was once a secret base for the Enclave, before the war happened in 2077. It was so deep into the jungle, that many who did find it never returned. Many of those who were captured as a result were put into forced labor. But as they say down here in the Enclave, “Better know your path, before taking another.”

As we moved through the jungle in silence, the sound of mutated birds and other creatures echoed through the heavy brush and trees. I watched as a mutated Tamarin leapt from one branch of a tree to another, its skin completely hairless as it studied our own movements. Private Dawson, one of the soldiers assigned to my squad, edged towards me slowly. I could tell he was scared, but his large helmet covered any sign of it.

“When we get back to base, I think we should be given some R&R?” Private Dawson said to me. His voice was differed when speaking through the helmets respirator and microphone. I nodded, not really sure if we deserved the R&R, but it was a fine idea.

“Don’t go getting frightened, Dawson.” Sergeant Hartford said looking at both of us.

“I’m not frightened, it’s just that the jungle makes me nervous. I mean, what could we possibly be looking for out here, day and night sir?” Private Dawson said looking back at Sergeant Hartford. I kept my mouth shut, letting the two talk over who was what, and what we were doing out here. The actual question of what we were doing out here, was not a stupid question. In-fact, it was probably a very reasonable question. One I had yet to ask myself or another officer.

“If General Powers wants us out here, then who are we to question his orders?” Sergeant Hartford said looking towards me. Private Dawson looked at me for an answer, and Private Edwards who had been quiet the whole time did the same.

I didn’t know what to tell them, I was as clueless as they were. My orders were simple. Go do an hour or so patrol, in a thirty mile stretch from Fort Rio, and return. We were to report what we found, and the people we met. It was simple orders, but the real mystery was why General Powers was so inclined to keep giving us more and more patrol duties.

I looked back at the squad, their dark red eyes peered back at me like they were a predator, ready to pounce on the prey, the second it did something wrong.

“If General Powers says we’re to patrol, then we do it. For what reason, it doesn’t matter. We’re here to do a job. For all we know, Fort Rio and the rest of the Enclave that is scattered in Brazil, are the only ones still calling ourselves the true American Government. If General Powers wants us out here, then we’ll do it. I don’t have all the answers.” I finally said, just letting it all go. The others just looked and shrugged, I guess my answer had not suited them well enough.

“Well, if General Powers wants us out here for some reason, then it’s not too bad I guess.” Private Dawson said continuing onward with the rest of us. We all continued for the next few miles left, in silence. Soon enough, Fort Rio was in sight.

The huge military complex looked nothing like it was underground. On the surface, it looked like a factory, with a large wall around it, with barbed wire at the top. There were several guard towers on each corner of the walls, all armed with a typical 7.62x54R Machine-gun, which had been salvaged during our missions into Rio de Janeiro, in a small Brazilian military base. The factory looking building was modified, with searchlights and guard towers as well. The main entrance and exit was always busy with refurbished and reconstructed Willy’s Jeeps armed with a variety of Machine-guns and automatic laser rifles, which we used to make deep runs into Rio de Janeiro.

The city in and of itself, was a war zone. Mutants, Ghouls, and savage wastelanders alike were nothing but hostile towards us. They being of inferior blood, we were there to exterminate them by any and all means necessary. That was made clear to us after a major skirmish deep inside the city where a large group of wastelanders and ghouls gathered together, and tried to ambush a platoon of our men. The ensuing fight cost us two injured out of the fifty or so that had been in the fight. While it had cost them seventy dead, of their one hundred-five that took part. It was one of my squads first combat missions, but since then we had been put on patrol duty.

As we entered the large doors of Fort Rio, we looked around. Inside was a large metallic room with computers, lights, and monitors all running. Men in white jackets wrote things down, and hurried past us not giving us any thought, hurrying up stair cases and rushing into other rooms. My squad and I undid our helmets, the hissing of the hydraulics made an echo in the room. No one looked.

I cleared the sweat that had gathered on my brow away, and let my long black hair hang down. The rest of the squad did the same, and we quickly walked through to the debriefing room. The life of an Enclave grunt in South America was not a pretty one, but it was our duty to uphold the United States Government, and it’s beliefs.

I only JUST noticed this Fan Fic Strangelove... Well done, this gives heaps of detail, you don't ramble on; and it all makes oodles of sense. Great work, I hope you write something more on it, you've got me hooked onto what General Powers wants them to do. :goodjob:

Glad to hear you like it, Francois. I don't believe I've ever heard the word "oodles" before, but I get what you mean. And I do plan on using this as a filler while I work on my Spy story, so there will be more to come.

I think it's great, I cant come up with a bad thing to say.
Also I like the new Avatar :intergalactic:

Okay really liking this Strangelove. I like the detail given and the fact that it is given without resorting to waffling on. It also gives you the sense of being on the shoulder of the narrator which is something that I like to feel in a story told in first person.

@mere: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it as well. And thanks for the Avatar compliment

@KPnuts: Glad you liked it as well, I was trying to make it so you'd be along with the character, but I wasn't sure how well I pulled it off. But I guess I did good

:sigh: You people make me feel like I'm no longer needed. In a similar fashion to Francois, the only error I can find is with your commas on occasion. There are some areas that need it, but don't have it, and other areas that do, but don't. To be completely honest with you Strangelove, this piece exceeds mine in quality when I wrote a fanfiction for the Fallout. (Which has fallen into a coma due to my lack of inspiration.)

So really, all I can say is good job and good luck.

You've put a lot of good detail into your writing. I'm not entirely sure how long this would be. Maybe a bit longer than a thousand words? That's about the length of my Fallout chapters, which is perfectly acceptable and rather the standard. In any case, I can't make a criticism on this, really. It requires far too much nitpicking for me to be comfortable with. Great job!

-David

Have you noticed David only signs his name when he says he doesn't think he can criticize it much more than he is used to? It's an honour! Hehe, either way, I agree with David; it's a great story and I hope to see more and whatnot.

Wow, Doc, this is some really, genuinely good stuff. I'll be keeping a close eye on this one.

Thanks for the compliments. Here's the next installment. I'm not sure I like it better, but it will get better as I progress the story.

II

After getting out of our Power Armor, we took our own separate showers. The sweat had started to crust onto our skin, but the water helped wash it away. I looked down at the single drain pipe, and thought of those fighting in Rio de Janeiro; it was hell on earth for us there. Our debrief had been pushed back an hour, so it gave us time to ponder on things like the city. It wasn't always good to ponder and think of when that, "Golden Ticket" would tag you; and you'd be out of the game for good. Many before us had pondered and thought about that bullet, but for most of us it wasn't the enemy who tagged us. It was ourselves.

Suicide was common down here in Rio. Most of those who had committed suicide; had done it because of the horror they had seen in Rio de Janeiro, and because of the fear that the local wildlife had set. Even I had pondered the thought of just taking my pistol, and walking into a bathroom stall; ending it all. But I knew better. If I did, my squad would be alone like a child without their mother or father to help them along the road of life. I couldn't do that to my men, they were the only family I had left down here. Many of the squad leaders I knew; weren't caring about their squad, but they had to be to survive the horrors of Rio.

While I finished my shower, and dried off, wrapping the towel around my waist; a man walked in clad in a typical Enclave Officers Uniform. He shot to attention as I walked over to the broken mirror. I ignored him, his hand raised above his brow, and his face stern with determination of some kind.

"Sir!" He suddenly said looking at me directly. I looked back, giving a short salute before taking my knife and carefully put it to my face, shaving the small hairs. "I am Sergeant Eric Hawthorne, and I'm here to inform you that your squad will be debriefed at 1320 Hours. That's in twenty minutes sir!" He said with his hands firmly at his side, and his entire body straight at attention.

"Thank you Sergeant Hawthorne. Has my squad been informed?" I said wincing a bit as I accidentally, nicked my check with the sharp knife blade.

"Yes sir all of them, Sir!" He said turning around, and walking back out the door. I could tell he was relieved to get out, and I was relieved he was as well. I held the small cut, and let the bleeding stop before I continued my shave.

Suddenly another person barged through the door, but this time it was Private Dawson. He looked at me with a smile, shooting a quick salute. My squad and I had made a pack, that the need to salute one another was childish when it was just us. But around the other officers and enlisted men; we were all professional.

"Lieutenant Clark, did you hear our debrief is at 1320 hours?" He said with a bit of confusion. I didn't understand why, but he had that look of not understanding why.

"Yeah, some Hawthorne guy came in and told me." I replied as I cleaned off my blade, and returned to looking at the broken mirror, carefully shaving the small hairs on my face.

"Why has it been moved? I thought it was in an hour, not twenty minutes." Dawson said leaning against one of the broken sinks. He had that young go get'm attitude, but even in the heat of combat; that whole go get'm attitude was turned to fear and increased senses.

"I don't know, Hawthorne didn't tell me. He just said, 'Your squad will be debriefed at 1320 hours.'" I said finishing up my shave. Dawson looked down at his boots, running his hand through his short blonde hair as he thought about it.

"Well I dunno if it was General Powers? Or who; but I think it's odd to give us just twenty minutes of warning. Usually it's like two hours ahead." Dawson said turning to face the broken mirror at his side. His hands grasping the rim of the sink.

"Don't worry about it, Dawson. It will probably be the same stuff again and again. Go shoot up this place or go clear this place for our jeeps? You know the drill, it's not like it's your first mission out." I said cleaning up before walking into a bathroom stall to change into my clothes.

Dawson smiled at me, shaking his head as I closed the stall door. I could hear him chuckle, not a common occurrence; here in Fort Rio. Most of it was complaints and moans, and groans. As I finished changing, I walked out of the stall; buttoning my officers jacket and placing my cap on right. Dawson stood, looked me over and just smiled. I looked at him, shrugged and walked out; Dawson following close behind.

"Well, what do you suppose they're going to debrief us about?" Dawson asked as we moved through the hallways. A large bold yellow letter, "B" and beside it in bold yellow as well, the number "5" told us what floor and wing we were on. I ignored the question, making my way through the crowd of fellow Enclave; towards my quarters.

"Hey Dawson!" A familiar voice yelled. "Come and get something to eat!" The voice said again. I turned to find the voice, it was Private Edwards, and some other friends of theirs. Edwards was waving for Dawson to come over, I looked at Dawson; his face quickly forgetting about the question as he hurried over to the group.

"Remember boys, 1320. Be there." I said with a smile, waving them off to go eat. Edwards and Dawson smiled and gave a quick salute as they disappeared down the stairs, and to one of the seven cafeterias.

After walking through what at first seemed like a wild and crazy maze, I made my way to my quarters. I checked the clock on the wall, the time was twelve fifty-nine p.m. I took a seat at my desk, and quickly wrote up my report of the days patrol. I always hated to write up reports on the patrols, mostly because I didn't have the words to explain it. The only one's I could come up with were ones that were not appropriate for a report. But on the battlefield, it was just common language.

When I had finished writing up the report in the silence of my room, I looked at the clock; it said one-thirteen p.m. I got up from my chair, and walked over to a small little tube; where a small little pod rested. I took the pod out, placed the report inside and sent it on its way to be put into the daily reports, down in the offices underground. I quickly looked myself over in the mirror beside the translucent tube, and tidied myself up before hurrying to the debriefing.

I hurried through the halls, passing others as I made my way to the debriefing room, which was only a floor below me. The freight elevator was noisy and clanky; I always felt as if it would fail when I was on it, and we'd plummet the six floors down to our deaths. But this time I was lucky, and the old freight elevator held, and I hurried on my way to the debriefing room.

When I got there, the squad was already in their seats. They looked at me, shooting up to attention and raising their hands to a salute. I smiled and shot a quick salute back.

"At ease gentlemen." I said allowing them to take their seats. In the front of the room, a podium stood where the person debriefing gave their little speech. Behind them was a screen, where at times pictures would be shown. They were old prewar pictures, but the guys underground had graphed them to work with what we knew and saw while in Rio de Janeiro, or the surrounding little towns.

I took my seat at the front of the room, sitting beside the podium. On the far corner, a door opened and Colonel Richard walked out. We all shot to attention, our hands at our brows as he walked up to the podium, and gave us a return salute.

"At ease gentlemen. We've got some important things to take care of." Colonel Richard said laying some papers down on the podium. "Now as you know, the ghouls and wastelanders have been giving us some trouble. Echo squad just had their taste of the new weapons; and it seems the beasts know how to use them. Your mission today: Take a single jeep and whatever supplies you need with you, and make some deep runs into Rio de Janeiro; taking out several enemy outposts."

Suddenly on the screen, a photo with several red circles in different places around the city; were shown. We all studied where they were, and realized that the outposts weren't that far off from the major hotspots in Rio.

"How long do you estimate this plan of action, take sir?" Sergeant Hartford asked looking determined to get it done as fast and as clean as possible.

"You and several other squads will be going. Take a radio, and tune into channel seven. You'll be able to contact the other squads that way. The mission is estimated to take no more than an hour or an hour and a half. So get in, beat'm down quick, and get out before they can get help." Colonel Richard said before grabbing the papers, and standing at attention. We all shot up, hands at our brows.

"Good luck gentlemen, and may America stay strong."

"Thank you sir!" We all said in unison as he walked out of the room. Not long after, we all quickly hurried to the barracks, and changed into our Advanced Power Armor. The suit was nice, and the ability to be a one man tank was a good feeling; especially where we were going. The hydraulics hissed as our helmets were fitted into place. Our voices distorted by the sound of the respirator and microphone. We quickly made our way to the "carpool," and chose our jeeps. We loaded them up with as much ammo and clean water as we could, still giving us enough room to move.

I rested my AER9 Laser Rifle inside the large holster that was attached to the side of the jeep. It was easy access, incase we were jumped before we reached our target. I looked at Private Edwards, his excitement; along with the rest were showing through their suits.

"Onwards Tonto!" I said with a bit of a joke, Private Edwards putting the jeep into gear as we shot off down the long and dusty dirt road. Sergeant Hartford was the man at the gun, we had been lucky enough to take out one of the jeeps armed with an automatic laser rifle. Private Dawson sat beside him, watching ahead as we raced down the road. It was bumpy a bit, but our suits kept us safe from the serious bumps.

Soon we would be cresting the hills, and our target: Rio de Janeiro, would be revealed. The tension was calm, and we were nervous and excited. But the fighting; we all knew would be business.

Closed by request.