From Frozen

[Mags]

So... I goofed the title. Supposed to be "From Frozen Steeps to Fields of Green: Part I" and this is Mags' Solo into the world of Althanas. Stay tuned!


December 25, 2315

So I’ve been thinking, since today was supposed to be the birth of Jesus, it’d be nice if he could make things a bit fucking warmer, the wild men a bit less violent, and maybe sprout flowers on the muties. At least that way they’d smell pretty while biting our bleeding heads off.

Captain Kielly stopped by and told me we’re heading out soon. I don’t know when I’ll have another chance to record a data pad entry since we’re pushing pretty far in this time. Not entire sure why, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this. The place we’re going is supposed to be some old ass military bunker or weapons lab or some shit. Either way, I’ll be happy if the muties haven’t holed themselves up good yet inside.

That reminds me, wonder if I can find spare parts for the new incendiary rounds I want to make. Tried to do so with the ammo press I already have, but I guess I have to change out some parts to make it right. Ones I made did little more than just “pop.”

Mom and dad stopped by too to wish me luck. I should have listened to them and just signed up for agrology and been a hydro-farmer like them. Then again… I don’t think I’d have liked to grow wet cardboard for the rest of my life. Sure, it’s important to have food… but man… I wish we’d get some decent grub now and then.

And why the fuck do we call food, “grub,” anyways? Those fucking things are toxic and ten feet long with lambent green eyes. I guess they didn’t used to be that way, but fuck, they still look nasty. Christ, radiation sucks.


“Yo Mags, you finished with that pad yet or what? Caps just gave the signal.”

“Yeah yeah, gimmie five.”

“Fuck, it’s your funeral man.”


I just hope my guts wrong this time. I think I’ll just blame it on last night’s dinner. Man, that was some bad chili paste that we scavved.

Matthew McLorey

[Mags]

Matthew finished the entry and stashed it away into his desk for safe keeping. A quick glance at the wall clock told him he was going to be late by a couple of seconds. Even though it’d only be a few seconds, he knew that the captain would chew him out if he didn’t make it. Not wasting any more time he got up, grabbed the extra magazines sitting on his desk and ran towards the door. As he did, he snatched his rifle by the doorway and without slowing down, continued running towards the end of the hall.

“Hey!! No running in the halls!” Nearly colliding with a man holding a canister of something, Matthew managed to dodge around him and proceeded to run anyways.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!” was all that ran through Matthew’s head as he heard the 10 second chime before the hour. Reaching the door at the end of the hall, he flung it open and skidded to a halt outside on the snowy ground.

“Congratulations McLorey. You made it, for once.” A female voice in a standard enviro-suit said. The only thing that differentiated her was a band of blue color around her entire uniform, indicating a rank of captain. “Now hurry up and get on the damn transport.”

If one could have seen Matthew’s expression, it was of relief, but with his suit on, others could hear little more than a sigh of relief as he climbed up into the cargo space of a treaded truck. He found a seat between two others and as he did, the sound of a fist pounded against the outside, twice. The two soldiers closest to the end of the truck pulled the doors closed and sealed them.

A single dim light turned on above them all as the voice of their captain floated in on the intercom. “Get some rest; it’ll be about an hour till we reach the base.” With a groan from the trucks engine and a lurch, they began moving.

“The one day you made it on time and we get to go to some base clawing with who knows what.” Looking up, Mags saw a mask patched up by the rebreather.

“Yeah? What’s it to you Mores?”

A person next to Mags chuckled with a slight cough. “He just lost his next good meal cause of a bet.” All around, others began laughing as well.

The intercom came on once more with the voice of their captain again. “Alright, got a treat for ya’ll back there. Hope it pipes through right.” There were a few confused turns of the head as a soft static filtered through. Slowly, it turned to a soft violin, visibly relaxing most of the soldiers.

“Mags on time, going to some random base, and we get music. Hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d say everything going to be alright.” Leaning back, Mores gave an audible yawn. “Might as well get some sleep.”

“Maybe if you shut up, we will,” a voice further down called out. Everyone gave a slight chuckle while Mores only grumbled.

Leaning back himself, Matthew closed his eyes and thought about the data pad entry. “Maybe everything will be fine, for once…”