DarkOwl57

So everyone, I know how you're wanting to hear more from WWK. However, as some of you might know, I had another story planned before WWK. The Final Stand. Well, here are a few brief excerpts that I wrote over the summer. Enjoy!

#1

    As I looked out on the desolate terrain, somehow everything smelled like home. Or at least, as much smell as a barren, grey dust-covered rock without an atmosphere can give. Walking up out of my crater, I gave a sly smile looking out at the trading outpost and saw a transport ship slowly hovering down; likely filled with tons of stuff. Hopefully Johnny had come through again. When I had finally felt the dust had settled enough, I started walking over.

(…)

    “Well well well, look what we have here boys!” I whipped my head around and looked at 3 rough looking figures; all 3 of which were carrying pretty darn heavy weaponry. “Uh… Hi.. There.. Do you guys know where the Quartermaster is?” They gave me an evil sounding laugh and I got the feeling they were anything but the Quartermaster. “Oh, he’ll be along.. Eventually. But we get first pick. So move out of the way or get blown out of the way, kid.” The leader raised his gun, which I recognized immediately. “Bolt 9000… Only ISM Troops are supposed to have that!” I whispered in surprise, my hands up. “Well who says I didn’t steal it? Move it!” I stood my ground; half wanting to defend my ship and half petrified. “Fine then..” He raised up the Bolt, and I felt it warming up; a deep rumbling in my gut that kept on growing and growing. Then, just as he was about to pull the trigger, a loud POW! Noise filled the chamber, and the gun shattered in half. “What the?!” The leader exclaimed, dropping the gun and waving his hand as a bit of hot metal brushed his arm.
    “Causing trouble Buster?” A lone figure asked, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He had a confident smirk on his face, and I felt like somehow, I recognized him. He slowly jetted down using his RCS pack, and when he was on the ground, he began walking towards the gang group. “You get out of here, Symp,” The leader, Buster, snarled. “I think not," The figure smiled, grabbing two small pistols that looked extremely old. “See, I’ve got 3 guns. And you’ve got none. So skedaddle. Go on.” He waved his hands in a “Shoo” motion. “I’ll get you for this,” Buster muttered, before walking out; his two henchkerbs trudging behind him. My savior sighed, and shook my hand.
    “Thank you, sir,” I breathed, feeling like I might pass out from the adrenaline rush. “What’s your name?” He cocked his head and muttered. “You know, no-one’s ever asked me that before.. Call me the Lone Ranger.” Again, I felt like I had heard that somewhere before. “Well, let’s see what we’ve got. I’m supposed to get a shipment of food either this Kerbol cycle or next.” He went into the cargo hold, and I resisted the urge to tell him it was restricted. After all, he had just saved my life. “Let’s see here.. Guns.. Ammo… More Guns.. Geezum you’d think we’re at war here! Ah here we go. Food.” He lifted up a large package and balanced it on his shoulders.
    “Follow me. Unless of course you want those goons to come back and blow your brains out.” He began walking out, and I trotted after him.

…

    “Welcome to my humble abode,” The Ranger said, waving to his “House”. It was pretty darn good for a makeshift outpost; it had an oxygen compressor, Water Regeneration, Solar Panels, and a working ox seal. However, everything was extremely old; at least 40 or 50 years. Inside, it was a bit less luxurious; similar to a one-room apartment. The Ranger set down the box and began opening it; pulling out package upon package of food. “Nirvana,” He said, throwing me a package like a frisbee. Due to the low gravity of Dres, the package floated into my hands.
    “So. What’s a kid like you doing in a rat hole like this?" Ranger asked with a smirk, biting into a burger. “The main pilot got reassigned to the Jool System. I’m just a lowly Lieutenant, so they threw me into the ICT850 and told me where to go.” My cheeks reddened in embarrassment, and Ranger chuckled. “Ah poor kid. I remember back in my first days at the KSC.. Everyone thought us lowly privates and corporals were the most expendable beings known to kerbal-kind.” The KSC.. Surely he doesn’t mean the ISP.. Right? The KSC had been shuttered years ago, and in its place the International Space Port was born. I only just remembered it from my history books. As Ranger threw the package in a composter, I saw the tag it was addressed to. I caught a JE, but then his hand covered it up. Curiosity got the better of me, but before I could ask, my radio crackled. “Danny! Where are you? Come in Danny!” The Quartermaster’s voice shouted loudly at me, and I got up from my chair.
    “I’ve got to go,” I told Ranger. “Fine. But before you return to Kerbin, tell everyone you know the news.” I cocked my head. “What news?” I asked, my heart rate speeding up. “Tell them: ‘Jebediah Kerman, General of the NSKAF and Captain of the ISF Reliant in the Battle of Kerbin sends a message. I have returned.’”