The Resource Wars are not talked about much by the inhabitants of the fallout games. I figured it would be easy to make a fanfic of the war because there is barely any lore from the games about it.

Look forward to chapter 1 shortly. It will be posted in chapters. REAL chapters, like Lord of the Rings chapters.

Bee cool.

People who went to the PAX pitch your video game idea thing will know what this means

This story is officially GO, as I will begin to post the beginning of it soon.

Resource Wars
From the viewpoint of Seargent Kaczmarek
Examples for knowledge of looks:
Advanced Combat Armor: http://fallout3nexus.com/downloads/file.php?id=6978
World Map: http://www.printableworldmap.org/printable-world-map-political-wiki.jpg

--Introduction--
----Rebellion of Iceland--

"This is Team Desperado, awaiting Go-code" Our squad leader looked like a recruit, his excitement shone through his facemask. I'm Seargent Kaczmarek, I honestly have no idea what to do, we had been sitting here for at least three hours. I was sitting in my advanced combat armor, it was getting hot and the kevlar vest, light steel chest and pauldon armor were making it worse. My teammates sat across from me, they were bored and weren't even trying to hide it, then again, so was I. The jobs of a squad leader were to motivate and lead their team, ours was only doing one. Private Jennings was looking around the corner of a building every five seconds. His enthousiasm was clearly wearing thin. I would have said something to him, but because this was a covert mission, it was forbidden unless it was important. Regular talking could uncover our team, making us legaly able to be arrested, and if we weren't given the go-code by command, it was illegal to shoot or hurt anyone, and it would cost us our positions. They might send us to prison for that, but it is very rare to be un-listed for the army.

Ten minutes, no fifteen, or was it thirty? I wasn't sure. Our whole team knew sign language as we weren't allowed to socialize. I signaled to Seargent Philips, "What's up?". His reply wasn't immediate and I had to repeat the message several times before he noticed me.

"Nothing really," he signaled back. "isn't this boring as hell?"

"I know, right? How long have we been here? I didn't check my watch when we got here."

"It was about 1900 hours when we got here, have you checked your weapon? I checked mine at least thirty times, wouldn't want it to jam during a gunfight."

"1900 hours?! That means we've been here for three hours! I have checked my weapon, but it isn't really worn at all, I just got it replaced two days ago, if it jams, I'm gonna kick someone's ass, this thing is brand new. And hot damn, Reykjavik is so boring. What the hell do they do here all day?" My sign language was getting sloppy as I became more drowsy.

"Work, drink, and live? I don't know what they do for fun around here, I'm from New Jersey."

"Really? Bob told me you were from Hollywood, though I didn't actually think you were born there."

A whisper broke our conversation. "We just received the go-code from command, time to kill these sons-of-[censored]es rebels! Hoo-raah!" Lt.Fox could hardly contain his excitement, this was, after all, his first time leading a team of his own. Private Jenning shook his friend Ronald, who was also a Private. From what I had heard, they had decided to enlist after finishing high school. They probably would have been drafted anyways.

???

If I'm reading those post times correctly, you wrote about being pumped up about a new idea and 21 minutes later you sounded all depressed and said the idea was dead. Do we have a case of bipolar disorder? My sister has it, and I have on more than one occasion suspected I have it.

In all seriousness, what countries will you be writing about? The Resource Wars were kinda like WWIII. Every country was involved in someway, not just America and China.

No, I am not bipolar. I just thought of this idea while playing RISK with some of my friends then decided to write, when faced with thinking of WHAT to start with, I went blank. But, now I know what to write about. The thing that svcks is that I know how I want to end it, and I really want to write it now, but I have to write what comes first...


*SPOILERS* Do not read if you do not want to spoil the story.














I will be writing about some battles that my character, (just remembered how to spell Sergeant correctly) Sergeant Kaczmarek, and his team experience during the resource wars. During the Intro, and Chapter 1, the Resource Wars have not yet started, and when it begins, in Chapter 2, it is referred to as "World War III". First, there is a fight against the Rebellion of Iceland, SECOND, is a fight in the UK over a large trash burning power plant, the largest on earth. The next few have not yet been decided.

The last few chapters will be about the invasion of China. You know, how on the last few days before the destruction of EARTH AS WE KNOW IT, USA deploys T-51b soldiers to China, where they wreak havoc on the Red Country, although in fallout lore we do not know whether the soldiers there get pulled out or not, I will do something with that question.

Kaczmarek sounds like a Russian name, is our hero not going to be american?

First Installment



should be...

"This is Team Desperado, awaiting Go-code," Our squad leader looked like a recruit, his excitement shone through his facemask.

"I'm Seargent Kaczmarek, I honestly have no idea what to do, we had been sitting here for at least three hours."

I was sitting in my advanced combat armor, it was getting hot and the kevlar vest, light steel chest and pauldon armor were making it worse.

See the difference. You did do better after that block of text though.

Make you thoughts in italic or bold, or even put a space, that way the reader's can differentiate it from regular text.

I have noticed you on the forums, but never commented on your stuff because I don;t really like the Enclave or want to hear about their malicious tales. I'm sure it was good though. However, if I'm not mistaken, there's a rule against two fan-fics. Maybe you did lock the other, idk.

ANSWERING QUESTIONS:
"Ant1iv3" That was not a spoken line, it was like a though to self kinda thing. But, you know, I didn't exactly know how to start.

"Zollum" Kaczmarek is actually not Russian, but Polish. This is my actual sur (last) name. The team is American, but of Polish descent.


------------------------------------------------------------------------
--Chapter 1--
----Ending a Rebellion--

Lt.Fox was first, he turned around the corner and his hand signaled for us to follow. My R-91 felt heavy, I was still getting used to it because I had recently switched from an M-14. I needed to hold onto it because there were several hostiles around our position. There were two rebels posted as sentries on the roof of a club, they looked like they were taking it easy, as they were drinking and laughing. I signaled to Jennings who pulled his sniper to his shoulder and fired a silent shot. I used the scope on my rifle to take a look, the one who hadn't been shot stopped laughing, and I could lip read the words "Oh [censored]!" out of his mouth, he ran over to his dead friend and Jennings pulled off a second beautiful shot. The man's brains had sprayed onto the wooden chair his friend had been sitting in. We continued down the road and I saw a patrol of three rebels, all wearing heavy advanced combat armor and weilding M429 SAWs. There was only one way we could take them all out, we had to break stealth and take them head on, there was no way we could take them out as they were wearing a complete helmet, unlike the others we encountered on the roof. These men had to be elite. Lt. Fox signaled the sign to jump them on his mark. It was a good move, as there was no other way to take them out without alerting others. Lt.Fox whispered to me,"I'll take the one on the right, Kaczmarek, you take the one in the middle." I instructed the two privates in our squad to stay back, and asked Philips to take the one on the left.

The three heavily armored soldiers reached the two barricades we were hiding behind and we jumped behind them, I used my pistol, I lifted his helmet and placed my shot through the weak fabric that was beneath it. Lt.Fox and Philips had used their knives, but I always liked to use a gun. Each of us placed the men on the ground behind the barriers. Private Ronald took the ammo and put it in his pack, he was the one who carried the extra ammo for the team. Luckily, it was the kind of ammo we needed. These brand-new R-91s used 7x51mm rounds, not like the more common R-91s that used a standard 5.56mm. Moving onward, we reached our destination. It looked like a regular radio broadcast station, but it was much more. The broadcast station for the radio channel ROCK-938 had been used for the last two years as not only a way to spread rebel propaganda, but also as their H.Q. It had been given several "upgrades", it was outfitted with barred windows, turrets, guards, and according to reports, the doors were now made of six-inch thick steel with a magnetic seal. We had undercover agents that had infiltrated the rebels, and had recently placed remote-detonation explosives on key points of the structure. Phillips pulled out a small remote with one button, he pressed it and counted down with his fingers. One. Two. Three. "Boom." he whispered. And the building exploded, sending guards flying across the field in front of the building. Seven guards were still visibly conscious, two were straining to get up, three were looking for us, and another two were blind firing at random things that they pointed out and screamed to teammates, "IT MOVED! I SWEAR TO [censored] GOD THERE IS SOMETHING THERE THAT MOVED! HOLY [censored] [censored]!", but when they went to check it out, there was nobody there. Lt. Fox pointed to one that was nearing us. Private Jennings pulled off the shot like it was nothing, the kid was new, but he was a hell of a good shot. I told him to get a good sniping position so he could give us support. I pulled the corpse of the dead rebel and hid it in the shadows near us. Another man was coming closer to us, but Lt. Fox took him down with a shot from his pistol. A man with nightvision goggles was scanning the area, and his eyes were nearing us. He began towards our location. "Oh crap." I whispered. I could tell he saw the dead body, but that was excellent, that would mean I could stab him in the back once he got here. Lt. Fox tapped my shoulder and pointed to himself, then a garden shed. I assumed he was going there.

The soldier reached me and began to inspect the corpse of his teammate, when he raised his hand to beckon his allies to his position I slit his throat and placed him on top of his dead friend slowly to avoid making noise from hitting the combat armors together. The rebels' combat armor appeared to be made of alluminum instead of the American version that used steel, making these cheaper versions louder when they hit something. I ordered Ronald to stay here and went closer to the doors. I could see from the corner of my eyes that the private was calling for a Power Armored soldier. Power Armor was some crazy thing that some scientists had designed, it was very impressive though, making any trained soldier a walking tank, it was a luxury to have a guy like that on your team, although the armor was much more expensive than a tank. They were usually called after taking out a stongpoint. A Covert Ops. team would take down the enemy's main base of operations, then call for a Power Armored soldier to come down and mop up the mess that was left behind, i.e. wipe out the remaining opposition. It would be twenty minutes exactly before the PA heavy did his transport jump, they would go above the targeted location in an air transport and the guy would just jump out. It was crazy, like skydiving, but you don't have a parachute, the armor just absorbs the impact. I spotted Lt. Fox's silenced pistol just barely poke out between the shed's doors. He shot a rebel that had been standing in front of the doors. Then, Private Jennings pulled off a shot on a man that was sitting in a chair with a shotgun. My turn, I used my R-91 to shoot the last man, who had been patroling the area. My rifle was not silenced, but it was the last man, so it really didn't matter.

We all stepped out from our cover and walked to the building. Ronald had just finished calling command and was packing up the ham radio again, Jennings began searching for 5.56mm rounds for his sniper, and Lt. Fox began to check for survivors of the blast inside the building. It was highly improbable that anyone had survived, but who knew. Then, out of a pile of rubble, a Power Armored man burst out. He then reached into the pile and revealed a vulcan minigun. It wasn't like ours, this one looked to be like a prototype, it was huge, it had gigantic shoulders and a larger chestplate, the hands were not gloves, but robotic hands, there were short legs, like the actual size of human legs, but they were still as bulky as the arms. The helmet looked like "Optimus Prime" from the old cartoon show "Transformers". It was more like a mech suit than an armor. "[censored]!" Jennings screamed, he was the least armored, wearing only a body suit and a kevlar vest, he would only be able to take two shots max. The sniper rushed to get behind a barrier. Then, Lt. Fox, who wore heavy advanced combat armor, walked towards the Power Armored man. Philips looked at me. We were both standing in the middle of the field before the ruins of the broadcast station. "What the [censored] is wrong with him?! He's gonna get killed!" my fellow sergeant looked as if he had forgotten his whole life.

The man in Power Armor laughed. "Oh look, here comes the cocky American ah? You feeling lucky? Hah!" The man sounded Russian, but I couldn't tell because of the voice modulator.

"Shut your [censored] trap you son of a [censored]. You know who you're dealing with?" Lt. Fox sounded like he thought owned the world and everyone in it.

"Oh, excuse me, mister, 'I own the place' I should make you feel like you control me, ah?" The guy was mocking him, and he didn't like it.

"You know what America can do? We can [censored] YOU UP THE ASS WITH TWENTY [censored] THOUSAND NUKES BEFORE YOU CAN GO CRAWLING BACK TO NEXT TUESDAY, TO SEE YOUR [censored] GRANDMA." It was a bold, but stupid move, Lt. Fox's armor could take anywhere between five to twenty shots from that vulcan.

"Oh, well, I'll have you know that my Grandmother is very strong and fought in the war for the liberation of Reykjavik. If you use your nukes, everyone uses theirs too, which will, as you say, '[censored] you up the ass with twenty thousand nukes' and you wouldn't want that would you? We wouldn't care really, because we aren't a target."

"Then we'll [censored]in' make you one you commie [censored]." Compared to the PA soldier, Fox was dwarfed. He looked like a man beside a pile of tanks. I looked to my left and saw Private Ronald fiddling with the radio. What was he doing? I looked back to Lt. Fox. There was a red dot on the ground next to his feet.

"Point five degrees north and one degree west."The private was doing something, but what?

The dot had moved directly behind the hulking mass of steel. Was it a gun? No, you had to give coordinates for that.

"Oh, is that so? I'd like to see you do that. I would see the queen of engla..." the man's words were cut off when a Power Armored figure landed feet-first on the soldier. Lt. Fox went flying back about ten feet, a crater had formed and the helmet and chestplate of the mass of armor had been cracked and disfigured, blood was seeping through the cracks. The Power Armored friendly that had saved out lives stepped off the man and said

"Hey thanks for breaking my fall." Lt. Fox walked over to him and said

"Thanks, you made it just in time."

"Lt. Fox you smart son of a b*tch!" I couldn't believe it, how could he have planned this?

"It was my pleasure. Now, I need a weapon." The large metal figure picked up the vulcan that had been lying beside the dying man in the large Power Armor. Lt. Fox then walked to the dying man. "I told you. Don't mess with the United [censored] States of America [censored]!" The crushed helmet of the mass of steel turned towards him and lifted its hand, which then turned into a middle finger. The arm of the rebel collapsed as he presumably died.

"ALRIGHT! Let's get our asses out of here team! Let the godly man do his work in his big-ass tank armor." The man in Power Armor lifted the corpse in the crater and put it into the back of the transport. He then gave us a salut and said,

"Hoo-raah!"

There is a LOT of swearing in this. I, unfortunately, cannot post an unsencored version of it. Keep in mind, if there are issues with spacing, it is because I write these in Wordpad on Windows 7 and when I space in it, it looks like a double space on these forums. So, I try to double space as much as I can in Wordpad so it looks better here, but sometimes, it just can't be helped.

[censored]
s*it
d*mn (still dnt know why they censored that)
a*s

see?

Also in the beginning, you have a hell of alot of text, which is quite intimidating. I'd be better to try and break up those blocks in the beginning. Good installment. You don't need to constantly refer to the rounds by name. Just 'rounds' is fine. Also that whole trash-talking scene wasn't that believable to me. I don't think one soldier would run up to another random soldier and then stop running just to talk crap. What would they be doing while they were talking, just standing there?



the build-up to that was quite clever, starting all the way back from the random encounter. I take back my last paragraph so long as the case was Lt. Fox knew it all along. If he knew the Power Armor man would fall, then that was a smart way to distract the enemy, but you should say he knew in the story.

One man in Power Armor can't crush another man in power armor, or with no armor for that matter.

Lastly, a man couldn't fall from te sky without a parachute or a plane to jump out of, and neither were apparent in that story. Also, I'm supposing that when he said move to the left the Armor was already in mid-fall. But how could it move in mid fall?

Science! and/or artistic license

Maybe that Armored man teleported, which I overlooked. Artistic license is iffy. Fantasy is one thing, realistic fiction is another, and so is sci-fi, but falling people from out the blu sky with no chute or plane, guided by a small laserlight? Meh

Once in a while, I will make edits. As for how the power armored figure moved position in "mid-fall", he didn't, it only took a few seconds for him to fall, the twenty or so minutes it took until the drop was the time it took for the plane to get there. I forgot to add the part where after Lt. Fox was thrown ten feet, my character was supposed to say, "Lt. Fox, you smart son of a b*tch!" May I remid you, these planes fly at very low altitudes, like something close to two hundred feet, why there was no shadow, it was dark, the moon was hidden by cloud-cover. Why no one heard the plane? I tell you in chapter two that the new air transports were almost completely silent. Technology.

Also, you said, a power armored man can't crush another, well, the armor worn by the rebel leader was a prototype model of the T-45d, what i will refer to as the T-38e Heavy, you will see it more through the story. The T-38e Heavy was built to just stop small arms like FN FALs, to R-91s, to 9mm pistols. It was not designed to take a large solid-steel projectile weighing over two hundred pounds (Fallout 3 was pathetic when trying to make power armor realistic, a large suit of steel armor with tons of electonic equipment cannot weigh only 45 pounds). How did the PA soldier survive the fall? In this story, there's a different type of PA, called the T-45e Paratrooper armor. Its entire suit is built to withstand thousands of Gs and meant to fall from a plane as a projectile, the armor goes into a lock status, and is ready to fall 3 hundreed feet maximum. Later in the story, a newer model will be introduced, called the T-50a Paratrooper armor, that can withstand a fall of one thousand feet. Several made-up PAs will be introduced throughout the story. In complete length, if I do not need to extend or shorten it, the story itself will stand strong at SIX CHAPTERS. Although there will be a chapter like the intro, that will be about half the length of a regular chapter which will serve as a conclusion, or Epilogue.

I should say though, I hadn't really thought much about the laser sight, that was kinda lame. Besides, how could a plane make a laser dot on the ground without letting it move? It probably shout have been a helicopter like the Vertibird...

I am posting one chapter every two days. HOWEVER. Now that Halo:Reach and Fallout: New Vegas are comming soon, I will MOST LIKELY not be able to post additions as often as that, so I cannot make any promises.

Expect Chapter 2 soon readers!

Here it is people, CHAPTER 2!

I would like readers to suggest names for chapter 3, as I have no clue what to call it. All that happens is some fighting against terrorists, looking for other team members, and after getting over to the relations building.

--Chapter 2--
----Arrival at Angola--

September 6, 2076--0400 hours

"Almost there..." we had been sitting in the transport truck for at least an hour, but in the distance, we could see the airport. It had been temporarily been converted into a base of operations for the U.S. Military presence in the area, although it was under American control, locals could still use it as an airport, keeping it nice and quiet. The sun was starting to rise, and the horizon became a beautiful orange-red colour. Our truck stopped at the back of the airport, letting no locals able to see us. The doors were guarded by two armed soldiers. I recognised one, Janet Saporski, who had been in my English class when I was in grade twelve, back in high school. I severly doubted she would recognise me, as I had grown a great deal, and I had grown a light beard. I walked towards the doors along with my teammates, and said "Hey." to her, I didn't think she heard me, as my teammates were laughing loudly at some new joke. The make-shift base of operations was small, and took up less than half of the building. I sat down but was interupted by a young man who walked toward me and said,

"Sergeant Kac-za-marek? Lt. Fox wants you and the rest of the team to get on flight 153 to Angola." The man was most likely a paper pusher for Fox.

"It's pronounced Kaz-marek. And tell him I don't know where the rest of the team is."

"Oh, excuse me, sir!"

"You don't need to call me 'sir' all the time, I'm not your drill-sergeant. Now go!" The man hurried away to deliver his message, and I rose from the plastic bench. The airport benches here were so wel-fare because the government of Iceland had sold some old benches and such to fund other projects because they were losing money. I walked towards the gates and saw Philips and Ronald leaning against the wall. "Hey! Kody, what's up!"

"You got the message from Fox?"

"Naw, he told us before we went on the mission." Philips seemed excited. But why?

"So, why Angola? Are there reds there or what?"

"Nope, there's reports of Terrorist activity over there in Namibe. I've heard there's [censored] loads of em'!"

Two hours later and we're sitting on a plane. The plane was one of the older ones, but since there are newer ones that are less loud and with less turbulence, once you ride the new ones, these ones felt like crap. The air condition was off, to save fuel, but at least we didn't have to wear our armor. I wanted a glass of water, but the stewardess wasn't near me. And when I had been young, my mother had taught me that it was rude to use the service button, I was attached to old customs.

Lt. Greenburg, the leader of the Demo Team, had stood up and walked to the aisle, I assumed he was taking over for Lt. Fox. "Alright, Team Desperado? Is that seriously your team name?"

Philips shot an insult at him, "Yeah, well at least we're not "demo" team, they're only part of a REAL team, cause' you're just a demo."

"Son, there were times where words like that would make me throw you out of this plane, but now, infortunaltely, this isn't one of em'. The U.S. of A needs all the guns they can get, but that doesn't mean they need mouthy ones. So I suggest you shut your trap, before I weld it shut. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Now. Team Desperado, Lt. Fox is already at the Namibe-U.S. relations H.Q., there are no soldiers on our side there, only a few embassadors and former Angolian Politians, so anyone you see with a gun, shoot on sight, no permission required, of course, don't shoot Lt. Fox. I will tell you this, you have no evac available, but if you return to the relations H.Q., we will have a helicopter there waiting for you. You can fly it over to Luanda, where we have a small airspace for American Military. Your mission objective will be explained to you once you meet with Lt. Fox at the relations building. There is a small possibility that terrorists have taken control of the airport, but no matter, when we land, you will be given your weapons again. Any questions? No? Good."

Out the window, I could see ground and water rapidly approaching, although we were still thousands of feet above the ground, I could see the airport. Then, a loud *BOOM* sounded from under our feet. "What was that?" I couldn't hide my fear, I could swear it was a gun.

"Alright, Team Desperado, waste no time, we've been his by an Anti-air Mortar, everybody put on your armor, grab your equipment, get a parachute, and make like autumn and fall!"

"That wasn't very funny"

"Dammnit Philips, this isn't the time!" At that moment, all I could think about was the plunge of a thousand feet that I would be taking.

"You boys know the drill, left for primary, right for secondary, and yellow for emergency." Lt. Greenburg had probably done this a thousand times before, as I had heard that he used to be with the paratrooper corps. The halfway down, it felt pretty nice, but the a scream from above me broke the peace. Private Ronald had yelled "WE'RE GONNA LAND IN THE OCEAN!"

"Oh [censored], HE'S RIGHT!" I couldn't believe it, we hadn't even thought about that.

The rest was a blur, seeing water all around me, sinking...sinking....sinking........ ....sink..i..ng..........

I awoke several minutes later and looked around. Private Jennings was lying on the shore a few hundred metres away from me.


Time to assemble the team.

I'll just think of a title for Chapter 3 myself, nobody seems to want to post. :I

I think the chapter could be...Touristas

Alright, I think this is a bit shorter than Chapter 2, but whatever. Chapter 4 will be called "Touristas" suggested by "Ant1iv3". Thanks.

--Chapter 3--
----Reunion--

I shook Jennings, but he wasn't responsive. [censored]. "Oh, come on, don't die on me man."

Checking his pulse, the worst case senario became reality. Our top sniper was dead. "Don't worry, I'll kill whoever did this."

I looked around me. The shoreline was bright with the morning sun, and behind me stood a rainforest. Great, a rainforest. It would be hell trying to find Philips and Ronald in this. My walkie-talkie began to play some voice. The new ones commisioned to the army were waterproof, in case of accidents and harsh conditions. Sure enough though, it was Ronald.

"Sergeant Kaczmarek? This is Private Y. Ronald, come in, over."

"Yeah, copy that Private, where's Philips? Over."

"Seargent, I got no reading on Philips, I think he got lost in the fall, over."

"Alright, so where are you? Over."

"Can you see Jennings? Over."

"Yeah, and he's dead. Over."

"Really?...[censored]! Alright, uhh, look for a palm tree with three branches."

"Alright, I see it, over."

"Walk to it so I can see you. Over. Ah, there you are, alright, stay there." Private Ronald walked out from a dark bush at the edge of the rainforest.

"Hey, thought I'd never see another live face again."

"Alright, we gotta find Philips. Now. However, my GPS says that his distress beacon isn't on. There's either something wrong with his equipment or he's been captured. He doesn't seem to be around here, but it shows him last in a clearing in the middle of what command shows as Terrorist controlled."

"[censored], we'd better get to the Relations Building double time. "

"OK, it's not far from here actually, just a few hundred metres." And so we made our way to the camp, albeit very slowly.

We reached the camp a few minutes later and the building was in sight. Lt. Fox stood outside the building, and was waving to us. Wait til' he hears about this. We didn't even know where Lt. Greenburg was. "Hey team, where've you been? Wait. Where are Philips, Greenburg, and Jennings?"

Ronald spoke, which was a pretty bold move for a Private."We don't know sir, Philips' M.I.A. locator shows he was last in terrorist controlled territory. We got no clue about Lt. Greenburg, he wasn't registered with us. And, uhh, Jennings is, um, K.I.A..."

"Great. A new recruit straight from the academy to the grave. You know what else? You need to learn to stay together better. Every second mission you guys get seperated. Follow me." Lt. Fox beckoned and we did as we were told. A man in Power Armor was leaning against the south wall of the HQ, he had a red star with a white outline on his chestplate. "Team, or what's left of ya, this is DST (Drop Shock Trooper) Corporal BIG1, but we call him "SHARK". He was supposed to be your escort through the terrorist country, but I guess now you'll be your key to getting Philips the hell out of wherever he is."

"Hey." The guy had to be at least three feet taller than me, and his armor was different than the T-45d I'd seen prior.

"You checkin' out my armor? Got it for bein' with the DSTs, they sure know how to pack a hell of a punch." he took his helmet off, revealing slightly tanned skin, a large scar across his face, and short brown hair. His green eyes peirced even the visor of my helmet.

"So, what do the DSTs do?"

"We fall. We kill. That's what."

It was OK. The reason I say OK is because although the storytelling was great, the story itsself had been told the same way a thousand times. Now, I do sense alot of style almost hidden underneath the cliche plot, and if you could tap in to it, your story-telling ability would triple, even quadruple.

I'm not trying to break you, just make you a better reader, please don't misinterpret my constructive criticism.



Meh to this, didn't really like the easy acceptance of another death. At that time he could have talked more about how more and more rookies had been dying and how he was becoming fatigued by it. Then the palm tree thing could have been like the banana tree or coconut tree, palm trees all look the same to me (even though three branches are rare).



He wouldn't say that as casually unless he was like real sarcastic or like...he thought about it for a while and didn't want to make himself seem like a punk. I don't know I think its just me.

Thanks for taking my suggested chapter !!!!

Uhh, sorry about this but, I might just skip to the start of WW III, because honestly, I'm not very thrilled about this part of the story right now, I will probably continue from here after the story ends. I'm just lacking motivation for it now.

Time Lapse!

Hope you guys like the new format I'll be writing in.

Chapter six will not be the last one, Seven will be, then the Epilogue. I look forward to seeing you in China.

If you know the day that the bombs fell in Fallout, then you will see that we're getting ever so close to that date.

--Chapter 5--
----World War Three--

"What?" the look on my face said it all. I couldn't believe it.

"You heard me right Corporal, World War Three." Captain Goliath stood before me with the worst news I had ever heard. Only a year had passed, but so much had change, after the events at Angola, me, along with Private Ronald had been promoted, and the rest I'd rather leave unsaid. My new squad, Prime Three, was led by Captain Goliath. It consisted of three Corporals, Jorge, Alex, and myself. We were an elite force of sky-diving maniacs who dressed in heavy T-50a Paratrooper Armor. We dropped from a Vertibird R, a special type of vertibird designed with open sides, for paratroopers and DSTs, and fell feet-first into hell. We would then kick the hell out of who were told to.

"It's true then? We really are in World War Three?"

"Correct. Now get to the armory, I orded some extra-special load-outs for my favourite team. Be ready at the debreif at 0800 hours." he walked away into a hallway, one of many in the base.

October 4th, 2077--0800 hours

Our team stepped into the debreifing room, and took our seats, Captain Goliath was already standing at the head of the table with a screen on the wall, showing satellite images of England.

"Team, we've got one hell of a mission this time around. England. Why England? Because they got the biggest [censored] trash burning power plant in the world, over thirteen stories tall, the thing generates enough energy a day to power our country for more than a week. This thing is so valuable, they got the whole commonwealth guarding it, and now that the UN has dissappeared, we can take it."

Jorge spoke up, "Why not just blow it up? I mean, if we can't have it, no one can."

"That would be stupid, the amount of money it could save us is enormous. To destroy it would cost us a lot of nice equipment. What do we do? We fall. We kill..."

"That's what!" we shouted unanimously. That was the code of the DSTs.

"Hoo-rahh! Team, I'll see you at the dropship at 0900." We all left the room and headed to grab our equipment before we left.

October 4th, 2077--0900 hours

We gathered at the dropship, the black skin was perfect for Night Ops. That's what we were doing. The wings on the side were folded up to avaid taking up too much space, and the weapons were brand new. This bird was top-notch, which was surprising because since the start of WW III, all the ships had seen service at least once. Alex saw me admiring the dropship and said,

"Nice ain't it? Just left the factory, it's brand-new, and was built with top-notch equipment and fuel. This thing was the best they could give us. I hear these ones are a whole new model, but when I asked one of the mechanics, he said that the next model wasn't coming out til' next year." His enthousiasm didn't effect me, I had probably seen worse things than he had. What happened in Angola had changed me forever, and not for the better. I preffered not to speak unless I needed to. I gave him a simple nod and boarded the vertibird. He gave me a look and got in the seat across from me, my new friend Jorge sitting beside me. Captain Goliath stepped into the ship and sat down in the fourth seat.

"Did you miss me?" The pilot's voice sounded through the headsets inside our helmets.

"Prime Three, prepare for takeoff." The loud propellers began to turn and we put our helmets on. Time for a three hour trip. Hooray.

October 4th, 2077--1200 hours / midnight
900 feet above London, England

"Alright, Prime Three, lets do this!" Captain Goliath's deep voice instructed. It was frightening even after your first drop, looking out of the open sides of the Vertibird R and stepping out onto nothing but thin air. Captain Goliath was first, making it look like it was a piece of cake. Next was Jorge, he was a tough guy, always wanted to go first. My turn. My feet edged closer and closer to the end of the floor of the dropship. Doing as my two teammates had done before, I stepped out into the dark of night and put my suit into a lock, making my suit able to withstand a fall of up to one thousand feet. I made sure I was falling to the right spot, I looked towards the bottom of my visor, I couldn't see, but my HUD said no friendlies were near my LZ, and was clear.

*CRASH*
The impact always made me a little nausious, but it would subside. I waited a long thirty seconds and undid my armor lock. I flexed the suit to loosen the joints again to their standard mobility. The armor's condition had dropped by the usual staggering thirty percent, but it wouldn't alter the completion of this mission. I checked my HUD for the IFFs (Identify Friend or Foe, this was used in Fallout 2 by Enclave forces) of my teammates. Captain Goliath was about thirty metres away, while Jorge and Alex were a longer fifty. Unhooking the M-74 Gauss Rifle from my back, I started towards the IFF of Captain Goliath when Alex's location showed a distress beacon. It was too far, and if he was in trouble, I would too get into trouble, I had to get to the Captain first.

roflmao Captain Goliath