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[font size=1" color="#FF0000]LAST EDITED ON Feb-23-02 AT 04:48AM (GMT)[p]Here's a little something I knocked together in yet another post-midnight single four-hour-long sitting (what is with that shit, really? I can't write unless I'm doing it at the most insane hours). Anyway, I hope I've finally got the ball rolling and will be able to post the following chapters in a nearer future than had been the case with my previous story.
BTW, if you have a gripe with the story, give it to me. I was in a really weird place when I wrote this, and I haven't read through it again yet, so I'm not sure what sounded totally off the wall.
Homer sleep now. See you around.
=============================================================
Vault-13
(I)
Level G. Ground floor.
Ground floor. The floor of the "Plug". The floor with only a few thick panes of metal and radiation shielding standing between those present and the outside. The floor where the prison was weakest.
The lights were off. To Owen, or anybody else in the Vault, this usually didn't present a problem, but here it was a sizeable one. In this room, it mattered that he couldn't see. The sheer novelty of this mere fact was enough to convince him that he could never to go back up there.
For a while, Owen contemplated leaving the lights off so he could explore the room manually in the dark, inch by precious inch. But the sound of voices and running footsteps behind him snapped Owen out of his daydreams and he hurriedly twisted the light switch. The room gradually became bathed in a blue flourescent glow from above, enabling Owen to proceed deep into the cavernous room, his steps determined, his gaze fixed on the blast doors in the opposing wall.
Upon reaching the door, Owen instantly set about working it's wiring. He worked fast and he worked smooth, despite the increasingly loud trots of the individuals coming for him. He isolated the wires he needed to short out and completed stripping them just as the call came.
"HEY!"
Owen paused, genuinely curious about what they were planning to do. He turned to face them as he stood straight, but never released the wires from his grasp.
Only two of them were there. The usual two. That sanctimonious son of Langden and his unfortunate partner Adam. Both had guns out of holsters and were readjusting their grips on their weapons' butts. But Owen still wasn't terribly frightened. From the unconventionally worried look on his face, Owen would've bet the farm that Adam wasn't happy about being the first one on the scene this time.
Junior, on the other hand, was damn near ready to rip Owen apart to his base components with much glee, and would've given it a good try if Adam hadn't intervened. Unable to offer anything more than contemptful glowers in protest, Junior finally backed down to the fellow enforcer's demands that he be quiet and back up.
Adam turned to Owen, searching for words, but could do no better than an indicative glance at the wires held by Owen, followed by a simple plea. "Don't do it."
Despite the raw emotions Owen detected in the man's voice, his own resolve refused to yield. "I have to," he calmly and indubitably replied.
Junior couldn't compose himself much longer. "Have to, MY ASS!" he fumed, hastily advancing on the infidel. "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM THERE!" he yelled and lined up a pistol whip with Owen's head, but his stroke never made it because Owen's stroke hit home first.
Owen's free arm swung the metal rod seemingly from out of nowhere, and the impact sent Junior sprawling, who was out cold before he hit the ground. Before Adam had a chance to stop him, Owen grabbed the injured man's gun and pressed it into his head. Adam had now ceased all negotiations and his pistol was trained squarely on Owen's head.
Seconds ticked by, each seeming to drag longer and longer than the last. No man dared even flinch. The tense silence was eventually broken by the muted rumble of a dozen extra footsteps -- more enforcers. As the sound of their approach got closer, Owen slowly and placidly removed the muzzle from Junior's temple. Hoping the situation wad defused, Adam followed suit and lowered his weapon.
But without warning, Owen turned his attention to the hacked door panel and crossed the wires. Adam exclaimed a resounding "No, DON'T!" but it was too little too late. The lighting dimmed as the cirquit shorted out. Sparks shot from within the doorframe and the thick metal panes began their slow rumble away from each other. One down, one to go.
"GOD DAMMIT, OWEN!" yelled Adam, once again drawing his weapon. "CLOSE THAT THING NOW!" Owen paid him no heed. He patiently waited for the door to open and confidently stepped into the gray zone, towards the last step on his passage to the outside.
The backup was arriving and getting into covering positions right behind Adam, but he was taking little comfort in that. His voice became louder and more frantic with each word. "DON'T THINK I WON'T SHOOT YOU!" he yelled. "I WILL! I'LL FUCKING SHOOT YOU IF YOU DON'T GET AWAY FROM THAT DOOR!"
Still nothing. Owen continued towards a wall-mounted hatch, inside which he found a large lever labeled "Hydraulic Lock". Grabbing confidently on the lever despite Adam's ranting, he turned it towards "UNCOUPLE" and. . .and. . . . . .and nothing.
Both Adam and Owen looked immensely surprised, but Owen was the first to understand what had just happened. Below the lever, there was an instruction carved into the metal plating, which read "Levers must be operated simultaniously."
"Levers"? As in, "more than one"? Owen looked back to see a second hatch on the opposite wall, which had escaped his initial attention due to faulty, flickering lighting on that side of the room. *Beautiful,* thought Owen bitterly. There was certainly no way he was going to fulfil that "simultaneous" clause on his own.
He turned to Adam and with a bitter smile on his face asked "Don't suppose you're gonna lend me a hand here?"
Adam couldn't get past the sardonic tone in Owen's voice, but for all his doubts, he was thoroughly skewered in place by the prominent presence of weapons. Nobody was just going to waltz right out of there and they both knew it.
Depression kicked in as that fact was digested and Owen's head dropped. But he had sworn to himself that he wouldn't return there, and he brought his gaze up again to meet theirs, along with his weapon.
"Owen, NO!!!" Adam yelled, but he could do no more. Round after round tore into Owen's body as the squad behind Adam opened fire.
BTW, if you have a gripe with the story, give it to me. I was in a really weird place when I wrote this, and I haven't read through it again yet, so I'm not sure what sounded totally off the wall.
Homer sleep now. See you around.
=============================================================
Vault-13
(I)
Level G. Ground floor.
Ground floor. The floor of the "Plug". The floor with only a few thick panes of metal and radiation shielding standing between those present and the outside. The floor where the prison was weakest.
The lights were off. To Owen, or anybody else in the Vault, this usually didn't present a problem, but here it was a sizeable one. In this room, it mattered that he couldn't see. The sheer novelty of this mere fact was enough to convince him that he could never to go back up there.
For a while, Owen contemplated leaving the lights off so he could explore the room manually in the dark, inch by precious inch. But the sound of voices and running footsteps behind him snapped Owen out of his daydreams and he hurriedly twisted the light switch. The room gradually became bathed in a blue flourescent glow from above, enabling Owen to proceed deep into the cavernous room, his steps determined, his gaze fixed on the blast doors in the opposing wall.
Upon reaching the door, Owen instantly set about working it's wiring. He worked fast and he worked smooth, despite the increasingly loud trots of the individuals coming for him. He isolated the wires he needed to short out and completed stripping them just as the call came.
"HEY!"
Owen paused, genuinely curious about what they were planning to do. He turned to face them as he stood straight, but never released the wires from his grasp.
Only two of them were there. The usual two. That sanctimonious son of Langden and his unfortunate partner Adam. Both had guns out of holsters and were readjusting their grips on their weapons' butts. But Owen still wasn't terribly frightened. From the unconventionally worried look on his face, Owen would've bet the farm that Adam wasn't happy about being the first one on the scene this time.
Junior, on the other hand, was damn near ready to rip Owen apart to his base components with much glee, and would've given it a good try if Adam hadn't intervened. Unable to offer anything more than contemptful glowers in protest, Junior finally backed down to the fellow enforcer's demands that he be quiet and back up.
Adam turned to Owen, searching for words, but could do no better than an indicative glance at the wires held by Owen, followed by a simple plea. "Don't do it."
Despite the raw emotions Owen detected in the man's voice, his own resolve refused to yield. "I have to," he calmly and indubitably replied.
Junior couldn't compose himself much longer. "Have to, MY ASS!" he fumed, hastily advancing on the infidel. "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM THERE!" he yelled and lined up a pistol whip with Owen's head, but his stroke never made it because Owen's stroke hit home first.
Owen's free arm swung the metal rod seemingly from out of nowhere, and the impact sent Junior sprawling, who was out cold before he hit the ground. Before Adam had a chance to stop him, Owen grabbed the injured man's gun and pressed it into his head. Adam had now ceased all negotiations and his pistol was trained squarely on Owen's head.
Seconds ticked by, each seeming to drag longer and longer than the last. No man dared even flinch. The tense silence was eventually broken by the muted rumble of a dozen extra footsteps -- more enforcers. As the sound of their approach got closer, Owen slowly and placidly removed the muzzle from Junior's temple. Hoping the situation wad defused, Adam followed suit and lowered his weapon.
But without warning, Owen turned his attention to the hacked door panel and crossed the wires. Adam exclaimed a resounding "No, DON'T!" but it was too little too late. The lighting dimmed as the cirquit shorted out. Sparks shot from within the doorframe and the thick metal panes began their slow rumble away from each other. One down, one to go.
"GOD DAMMIT, OWEN!" yelled Adam, once again drawing his weapon. "CLOSE THAT THING NOW!" Owen paid him no heed. He patiently waited for the door to open and confidently stepped into the gray zone, towards the last step on his passage to the outside.
The backup was arriving and getting into covering positions right behind Adam, but he was taking little comfort in that. His voice became louder and more frantic with each word. "DON'T THINK I WON'T SHOOT YOU!" he yelled. "I WILL! I'LL FUCKING SHOOT YOU IF YOU DON'T GET AWAY FROM THAT DOOR!"
Still nothing. Owen continued towards a wall-mounted hatch, inside which he found a large lever labeled "Hydraulic Lock". Grabbing confidently on the lever despite Adam's ranting, he turned it towards "UNCOUPLE" and. . .and. . . . . .and nothing.
Both Adam and Owen looked immensely surprised, but Owen was the first to understand what had just happened. Below the lever, there was an instruction carved into the metal plating, which read "Levers must be operated simultaniously."
"Levers"? As in, "more than one"? Owen looked back to see a second hatch on the opposite wall, which had escaped his initial attention due to faulty, flickering lighting on that side of the room. *Beautiful,* thought Owen bitterly. There was certainly no way he was going to fulfil that "simultaneous" clause on his own.
He turned to Adam and with a bitter smile on his face asked "Don't suppose you're gonna lend me a hand here?"
Adam couldn't get past the sardonic tone in Owen's voice, but for all his doubts, he was thoroughly skewered in place by the prominent presence of weapons. Nobody was just going to waltz right out of there and they both knew it.
Depression kicked in as that fact was digested and Owen's head dropped. But he had sworn to himself that he wouldn't return there, and he brought his gaze up again to meet theirs, along with his weapon.
"Owen, NO!!!" Adam yelled, but he could do no more. Round after round tore into Owen's body as the squad behind Adam opened fire.
