Hl2 Fanfic

[Sprafa]

The long-awaited part 3 of Half-Life 2:
________________________________BEHIND ENEMY LINES______________________________

is here!!!! (just joking )

Our hero continues his dangerous journey throwout the ocuppied parts of City 17 back to his resistance base.

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PART III – GETTING THE SHEEP’S CLOTHES

-I found one! An opening to the surface!
Lockheart’s scream gave me and Mendonza some hope to get out of the dark alleys of the sewers. And he needed it. His injury was getting worse. I managed to make a bandage and a tourniquet for him but I had no medic instruction so I couldn’t stop the whole bleeding. Soon he would pass out.
-Mendonza we need to walk. Just a little. We found an opening.
He answered with nothing but a grumble to me. I had to get his arm around me and pull him all the way to Lockheart.
-Where is it?
-Right over there, Sir. No combines on sight. It looks lk there’s nobody home.
When I looked outside I felt my eyes burning. The light was too strong. After they adjusted I looked again. Lockheart was right. The Combine weren’t there but that area clearly had been a Combine stronghold. There was a shielded barricade and a one of those high towers they used as an observation post.
As I walked out it didn’t seemed lk the same city I had fought on a few hours before. Everything was quiet. No bullets falling off the sky. Not even bullet sounds.
-Sir, its morning. We spend the whole night in those bloody sewers.
-Help me get Mendonza out. Let’s take him to that residential building. It should hv some beds.
We picked up Mendonza and took him to the straight to the building on the opposite side of the street of our opening. It was a big, old, 4 floor concrete building that had lost a part of its side wall to some sort of explosion. We went in throw that hole on its side and gone up throw the staircase to the highest floor. The higher you went, smaller were the chances for any Scanner to look down the window.
-Stay here with him Lockheart. I’ll go down and search for some medicines.
I went down, to the abandoned outpost. When I went into it I realized what had happened. They hadn’t abandoned it. The whole thing was armed with explosives. It meant this was probably the base for the Combine that had engaged my men. The 2 sentinels they had left guarding it were easy targets for the Antlions. And they were starving. The sentinels were eaten probably a few minutes after the battalion left.
And antlions were nice skinners. They removed the skin of their prey before eating them. So right there, I had 2 Combine armours and helmets. I returned to the building where I had left my comrades. Mensonza had died.
-How?
-He just closed his eyes and a few minutes later he stopped breathing.
-Well, maybe it’s better this way…huh. I found 2 full Combine armours in the outpost. We should be able to get into them and run pass the barricades ahead.
At least I hoped so.

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To be continued...

[ by the way part 4 will be released Thursday and part 5 Saturday]

 

[SilentKilla]

I love them, but new guy, it sounds a little weird that tonya is only 11 when she was sniping the combine with Ian in the intro, or is that later on when she is older?

 

[Sprafa]

I love them, but new guy, it sounds a little weird that tonya is only 11 when she was sniping the combine with Ian in the intro, or is that later on when she is older?

She's older

 

[Sprafa]

I need feedback......
Come on guys tell me something is wrong!!

 

[theotherguy]

She's older

yes, the car scene takes place in 2007, sniping takes place in 2012, so Tonya will be 17 when sniping combine, still a little young, but old enough to snipe :sniper:

you will understand more with the release of the next part

 

[theotherguy]

__________________HALF LIFE 2 RESISTANCE___________
THEOTHERGUY
NUMBER 4

Ian drove for quite some time, over the hilly terrain East of Prague. Tonya and his mother both stopped crying after a while, and then fell into a fitful sleep. Ian struggled to stay awake. He could hardly believe what was happening, he never imagined his home being invaded, he had always thought of the invasion as being far away, something that foreigners had to deal with.
But now, the revelation literally hit home to Ian. His father had died at their hands, and so had many, if not all of his neighbors. He was only 15 miles from the border out of the Czech Republic, but he felt as though he would never really be home again, that he would never be out of this nightmare.

He remembered hearing stories about space aliens, but never took them seriously. He had always told himself that aliens were a myth. Now he knew the truth. He wasn’t sure what he’d do next, if he’d even make it into Russia, or what he could possibly even do in Russia, it was just a plan that happened out of the moment, the first thing he thought of.

Less than a mile from the border now; it was almost 2:30, it had been less than an hour, but to Ian it felt like an eternity. At least he hadn’t met any aliens… for now at any rate.

It was 2:31 when Ian reached the border between the Czech Republic and Poland, and Ian was very eager to reach it. He rolled up to the border station, he had done this many times before, it was simple enough, the guard would usually just say “what is your business? Can I see your papers?” and would just wave you through, but this time, it was different.

In the guard station sat a large, burly man in a soldier’s uniform; obviously, this job had been taken over by the military. When Ian drove up to the station, the guard took his AK47 up from the ground near him, and gave a signal for Ian to halt.

“I am sorry, sir, but you cannot pass,” Said the soldier very sternly. “Why not?!?” demanded Ian, trying hard to keep his temper. “Orders from the prime minister himself, no one leaves the country, it is being quarantined following the invasion.” The soldier said monotonously; he had done this many times before. “Please go back to wherever the hell you came from, or risk being shot. These are my orders.”

Ian was appalled, “But that’s insane, quarantine an entire country?” Ian furrowed his brow, something seemed very suspicious. “I’m warning you!” the guard growled. Ian considered simply crossing the border anyways, but then got another look at the soldier’s AK47, and thought to do what the soldier said.

But Ian still felt suspicious, even as he was backing away from the poorly lit guard facility. Something seemed odd about the soldier, his voice, his clothes; Ian didn’t know what, but something.

Ian made a new decision, he couldn’t risk going back to Prague, and he couldn’t cross the border here either. He decided to travel south for a little ways, and then try to cross the border at an un-official stop, even off-road his way over it.
Ian drove faster than ever, far over the speed limit, down the old country road towards an un-official border crossing to the south. In his haste, he woke up Tonya and his mother. “What’s going on, Ian?” asked Tonya, poking his shoulder rather annoyingly. “Tonya, he’s driving!” scorned Ian’s mother. “On second thought, what are we doing Ian?” his mother asked.

Ian said a few short words, and hoped they would suffice as an answer. He wasn’t in the mood to answer questions, when he had so many unanswered ones himself. “We’re going across the border, no time.” Ian said quickly, as he shifted gears on his old Yu-go.

Suddenly, something appeared on the road in the glare of his headlights. It was a human figure, wearing dark clothes. Ian slammed on the breaks, his tires squealing, and came to a stop about 30 feet in front of the figure.

They were wearing a gasmask, and Ian could see that they were holding a gun. The figure simply stared at them, a deer in the headlights, and then seemed to notice they were there. The figure lifted its weapon. Ian had no time to react.

It fired a few shots, not very accurately, at the vehicle, one grazed Ian’s shoulder, another hit his mother in the head, and yet another punctured the gas tank. Ian slumped over in his chair, and went unconscious.

Ian was awoken from his short sleep by the slap of a gloved hand against his right cheek. “Get up!” a strange, muffled voice said to him. He could hear that Tonya was crying again. Still woozy, Ian grasped his shoulder, and stumbled out of the car, barely standing up.

The masked man hit Ian one more time across his back, then went over the back of the car, opened the door, and grabbed Tonya by the wrist. He pulled the screaming girl and threw her down next to Ian.

He then patted them down for weapons, and handcuffed them. “You are now prisoners of the Mighty Combine; you will follow me to the APC, and we will take you to the camp.”

Ian snapped out of his trance, he could hardly believe what was happening, he didn’t even know who “The Mighty Combine” was, and he was now their “prisoner.” Suddenly, it all seemed so clear to him… of course, he thought, this happened after every missile attack, The Combine would show up, how could I have overlooked this?

But Ian didn’t have time to contemplate all of this; the Combine soldier jerked his handcuff chain, and began marching them at an uncomfortable pace down the road. He was a prisoner, and there was no way out.

 

[SilentKilla]

I like.. /me on edge of seat.

 

[theotherguy]

_________________________HALFLIFE2/RESISTANCE__________________
THEOTHERGUY
NUMBER 5

They walked for quite some time, all the while; Ian was brooding, watching the man who had killed his mother. He had not felt so much when his father had died, he had given up on vengeance for him, simply because the head crabs that had killed him were nothing more than mindless beasts. But not this Combine soldier, he had the knowledge to shoot first, and then ask questions, and that cost Ian his mother’s life ; ( not to mention the incredibly painful wound in his shoulder).

Ian could see the APC now, it was sitting in the middle of the road, in some kind of blockade, or so it seemed. Ian could see other prisoners of The Combine being lined up around the APC and searched for guns, then thrown into the vehicle.

For the first time in a long time, Tonya stopped crying and said, “Ian, I’m scared.” Ian could offer no comfort, and simply said “So am I”.

“Shut up!” exclaimed the Combine soldier suddenly, and he kicked Ian yet again. Ian cursed the man under his breath. They were very near the APC now.

Another soldier, obviously an officer, judging by the white gasmask, and stripes on his uniform, walked up to the group. “Ah, another, I see, well, I will search them.” The officer patted them down for weapons, and then said something unintelligible. He then thumbed in the direction of the APC, and the soldier yanked their chain, and they were dragged to the APC.

In they were thrown, into an overcrowded APC, filled with the grave refugees of the Czech Republic. It was one of many vehicles, no doubt, that were used to carry the prisoners to the work camps.

Ian and Tonya were forced to sit down next to an old man who smelled of rum, and another man in a business suit. “Now it is full, let us get going, said someone from the driver’s cabin. And so, with a great stutter, the Combine APC with its ragged bunch of chained prisoners drove off, back toward Prague, where Ian didn’t want to be the most.

The old, obviously drunk man that sat to the right of Ian slumped onto him. Ian shoved the man back in his place. “Sorry,” said the man, “these damn space aliens, stealing our jobs and our women.” The drunk said, and then he began to snore.

Ian was not going to like this trip. Tonya began playing with the chain that was around their wrists. “Stop that please,” said Ian, pulling the chain as well. “But it hurts,” whined Tonya, continuing to pull the chain. Ian said “It hurts me too,” and let her continue to pull the chain.

Ian looked at where he had been shot, and realized that surprisingly, it hadn’t been bleeding very badly. He messed with the fabric around the wound, and discovered that the bullet hadn’t hit him at all, but had only grazed his shoulder. Ian felt very relieved.

“This is what they always do,” said the man in the business suit. He was also old; he had grey hair and was slightly balding. “The Combine, they take prisoners for their work camps, and use them as slaves until they die, mining resources for their alien war machine. I have been studying this invasion since it began. I find it all very fascinating.” Ian was about to say something back, but then a combine soldier came by and made it very clear that he didn’t want them to talk, threatening with gestures that he would butt them with the end of his gun.

It was about that time when someone from the driver’s cabin yelled “enemy resistance!” and gunfire could be heard on the outside of the APC. Ian feared for his life, as a hail of bullets fell over the vehicle.

 

[Wesisapie]

you have got to be kidding me. fanfic... its just embarrassing.
if you want to write something, make it on an original topic.
honestly.... fan fiction, i thought only complete losers wrote that stuff...

 

[Brian Damage]

Oh, I dunno, I think theotherguy's is rather good, actually...

I like the semi-hidden quote from the forums...

 

[marksmanHL2 :)]

Yeah I like em!

 

[Brian Damage]

Yes, but you seem to like everything :E.

(j/k)

 

[Sprafa]

you have got to be kidding me. fanfic... its just embarrassing.
if you want to write something, make it on an original topic.
honestly.... fan fiction, i thought only complete losers wrote that stuff...

Don't lk it don't read it.

And fan fiction can be good to develop some kind of writing skills.

I'm not gonna comment your last thought because I don't want to start something that makes the mods close this topic.

 

[marksmanHL2 :)]

Yes, but you seem to like everything
J/K.

But I do! I really do love everything...

Except maths, maths is evil!!!

 

[Brian Damage]

No! It was just corrupted by the teachers!!!!!

 

[Sprafa]

Please don't start an off-topic discussion.

 

[marksmanHL2 :)]

Sorry your right. Keep em coming anyway. They are most entertaining.
(Take me away from work anyway. Dunno if thats a good thing actually.....)

 

[Brian Damage]

Lighten up, dude, it was only three lines out of fifty five.

Well, between your post and mine, five out of fifty eight now.

We'll promise not to go Off Topic if you promise to post a new piece of your story (j/k).

 

[Sprafa]

This isn't exactly a new part. It's a revision of PART I. I'm making revisions to all parts since the ones I posted were more like, guidelines. The platoon has a whole new mission now.

Half-life 2
__________________________BEHIND ENEMY LINES_______________________

--------------------------------------------

PART I – «EVERYONE FOLLOW ME»

A regular morning in a regular resistance base in City 17. Gun sounds to wake you up, Striders on the horizon to get you without any will to sleep again in your life.
And that was a lucky day on City 17, since the Strider didn’t spotted us.
This was an ordinary day, until our little base got a distress call.
It could be heard all over the facility.
- This .. Lt. ..ars! I repeat ………toon 2! Gunships are incomin…! We ..quest imm… assistance! .. are …ned down I ……. surrounded! We a….. .. old sho….. center! We …. overrun and re….. …..diate assistance !
After that it all turned into static.
I went immediately into the office of my superior. He would have called me anyway.
When I opened the door there was another man in there already
- Lieutenant! I’m sure you heard that. Me and Colonel Simmons were just discussing how perfect you’re for the job.
- What job Sir?
- Were sending a rescue mission to the old mall. And you’re leading it.
- Permission to speak freely Sir.
- Permission granted.
- I don’t think anyone survived in there. If I’m correct, that was Lt. Spears with his Platoon 9. And they were way too deep into enemy lines. On my opinion sending a rescue mission would be a serious waste of men.
- Were not wasting any men. Platoon 9 was in the position they were because of reliable information.
- You’re beginning to sound like CIA, sir.
- Lieutenant! You’re going on this mission, and you will bring back something! I don’t care if its corpses! That platoon was carrying valuable information about the Combines and you’re going to find it! Now get out of my sight!
I got out of the office angry. Why was the Gen. so angry about some questions on the info they were carrying? The fact they hadn’t transmitted it on the radio meant that it was sensitive material. But what was it? There was nothing we could get of a prisoner so we didn’t had much info on them. It could be a million things.
I went into the barracks to get my men.
- Lockheart, go and tell the men to get ready. Were going in for that team that asked for assistance.
- But they’re all dead! I mean… they were under attack from gunships and …
- The Gen. ordered it so we’re going in. Meet me at the OSPREY pad, geared up.
- Yes, Sir
My team got geared up in a few minutes and came to meet me in the takeoff pad. We had a few old OSPREY planes covered up in camouflages.
One was already off it and fuelled up to fly us in.
- Men, our mission consists on the following: We are to find and exfiltrate any remaining member of Platoon 9, alive or dead. If we are at risk of being overrun we are to destroy any documents, supposedly in possession of Platoon 9 members. Now get inside, and let’s rock and roll.
- YES, SIR! (all men is unanimous voice)
We were sent in by the old OSPREY plane. They dropped us near as they could without alerting The Combine.
Our trip to the LZ to the target was quiet, without any encounters.
I actually thought that maybe some guy from Platoon 9 had survived. There were no Combine at sight.
But when we reached the area I saw there was no hope. Striders had hit them. And when Striders attack they don't leave anything. They had turned the mall into dust.
- Set up a perimeter. Mendoza ,Popov go to that building and set up an observation post. And I need 3 volunteers for a search team.
6 men immediately stepped forward.
- OK! Yuri, Li and Boris you’re up. Scout ahead for survivors.
Everybody else dig 4 foxholes in a square! And make’m deep we got reports of tanks in this sector!
- Yes, Sir!
We stayed in that desolated area for a few hours. It got me time to see the landscape.
Not that there were anything to see, there was nothing around but a few wrecked buildings. I just needed some time, and time was precious in City 17. But in that small wasteland that was that little old mall turned into a plaza by the Striders. However nothing lasts forever.

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[Sprafa]

Extended PART II of
-------------------------------HL2- BEHIND ENEMY LINES --------------------------------------------

PART II - «RETREAT! »

- SCANNER!
- Everybody in the foxholes! We’ll wait for the search team!
I went to see Popov, the man that had screamed.
- What did you see?
- A scanner spotted us Sir! I took it out, but you know how they are. They’ll probably send a patrol to check it out.
I went into a foxhole with Lockheart and «Goose».
The long buzz of the radio incoming alarm awakened me from a half-hour nap.
- Sir, I can see at least 30 men and 1 tank. They’re still at least 1 klik away but they’re way too many! (Out)
- What about the search team? Can you see them? (Out)
- Nothing yet, Sir. Maybe they were caught?! (Out)
- Keep your eyes open. (Out)
Popov radioed me again 15 minutes later:
- Sir, the Combine seem to have set up barricades on the 2 adjacent streets. (Out.)
- And the only way out of this plaza is the one street from where they’re coming, right? Smart bastards…
- I don’t think w…
In that moment I heard a loud explosion. A warhead from the tank had just hit the obv. post. Both Popov and Mendoza were probably killed instantly.
The battle had begun.
The bullets started flying around me. Lockhart and Goose had opened fire on the incoming Combine troopers.
- Lockhart, get the RPG ready to fire! We’ll need it for when that tank comes along!
They took our wrecked obv. post and started to snipe our men in the foxholes. Instinctively I switched my OICW to grenade launcher mode and aimed to the window from where they were firing and pulled the trigger, killing the snipers and making yet another hole in the building’s sideline. However my men kept falling so I decided had to redeploy some men.
- «Goose», make a run to Carter’s hole! Ivan’s hit and he’ll need assistance, he can’t handle it alone. We’ll give you some covering fire!
Me and Lockhart started wasting rounds on everyone of their positions, trying to give «Goose» a window for the run. He ran like a cheetah’s prey to Carter’s hole, trying to dodge the Combine’s bullets, being missed for a few inches every second. When he got to the hole he probably rested for a while. But not for long. Their long-awaited tank made he’s debut by blowing up their foxhole. The debris flied all over the battlefield, scattering their remains.
- Use the RPG now! Blow it up!
He got it, aimed straight to the tank and fired. But the Combine had been studying our weaponry for too long for 1 old Russian-made RPG7 managed to blow up their armoured vehicles. It splintered in the tank’s edged armour. Like if the crew was mocking us, they blew up another foxhole, killing 2 more of my men. We were being slaughtered and I was hopeless.
But it fired another round, opening the way to salvation. It had made a crater so deep, it reached the City’s sewers.
- RETREAT! RETREAT! EVERYBODY TO THE SEWERS! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE! – It was our last hope to get out of that hell.
I got out of my foxhole and ran. I jumped inside the hole hoping to survive. Only 5 men managed to come inside.
- Are you all?
- We’re all that made the run, Sir! All the others died.
One more jumped inside. It was Mendoza. He was a shot on the leg and landed pretty bad.
- Mendonza! Are you OK?
- Where’s Popov?
- He … died .. the tank’s …. blew him up.
- Do you think you can walk?
- Yes, Sir. No problem.
- Let’s move out people. We need to get out of here before the Combine start dropping in.
Everyone followed me. I thought it was strange that the Combine weren’t following us. I would soon find out why.

 

[Sprafa]

Do you think the extended version is better or what??

 

[Stigmata]

Yeah I think the extended one is a bit better. Good writing too :thumbs:

I started my own HL2 fan-fic a couple hours ago, and I've got the first chapter done. Note that my current title is a working title, I might change it later.



//////////////////// Half-Life 2 -- Uprising ////////////////////


////////// PART ONE -- Down the Rabbit-Hole

The streets were empty as usual. Enforced curfew was 1800 hours, but Erik had no intention of sticking to the rules. He never did.

He opened his window and stuck a small mirror out into the street, turning it from side to side. The streets were clear, but more importantly the night was dark, and the dark clouds were hinting at rain. Good, he thought, and hoped for a storm.

He checked his jacket pockets for the fifth and final time. In his right pocket was his unbranded sidearm, the logo having worn away from nearly countless street fights. In his left pocket, a small electronic PDA, a blatant infraction of City 17's item ownership laws. He was ready, but could only hope the others were as well. He opened the door and moved out into the street.

Stepping off the curb and into a puddle, Erik briskly walked down the narrow European street. He checked his back every few steps, making sure he wasn't being followed. He had never been this paranoid, but he couldn't help but feel someone, something boring its eyes into the back of his head.

He came to a four-way intersection, and looked to the streetsigns to get his bearings. He had been "transported" more than several times in the past few weeks, and he still couldn't remember which street was where. He checked behind him one last time, and pulled out his PDA. He tapped the screen a few times, and entered his password, a futile attemt at file security. Precious seconds later, a detailed map of the city expanded on his display screen. There, just a few blocks north of here, he thought to himself, and pocketed the data organizer once again. He began his walk, this time moving at a slightly faster pace, and wrapped his hand around the sidearm in his jacket.

**********

A thick storm had fallen over City 17 by the time Erik stopped outside his group's annex. He stood just outside a long alleyway, between a run-down apartment complex and a recently cleaned-out warehouse. Nobody had lived or had even entered these structures for nearly a month, and the Combine patrols had become much more scarce in the area. The one good thing that's happened since the rebellion. He moved to look back again but checked the motion, confident the rainstorm had sufficiently covered his travel, and walked slowly to the end of the alley.

He came to a stop in front of a large and solid-looking steel dumpster. But looks can be decieving, as the object had been hollowed out and hinged to the ground along the front edge. A perfect trap door for the annex. Erik grabbed the back and heaved the still-heavy dumpster until it swung forward to the end of a chain, tied to both the steel object and the dead-end wall behind it. Once it was open as far as it would go, he stepped under it and fell into what could only be described as a hole in the ground.

He hit the floor with a quiet splash as the small slat of grey light slid closed, followed by the hollow clang of the dumpster. The loud noise would easily attract the Scanners, but he would be long gone by the time they showed up to the invisible entrance.

Dim light enamated from grates lining the street curbs as Erik made his way through the sewer system. Nobody could get here through the manholes, which were consistently monitored, so he and a group of "Index-dodgers," as they called themselves, drilled the annex entrance after the nearby buildings were cleaned out. From there, anyone could make their way through the intact sewer system to an unused maintenance accessway which doubled as the unofficial meeting place for Erik's group of infidels.

The light got consistently dimmer as he moved to the accessway until he reached a pitch-black sewer pipe. He reached into his pockets for his pocket flashlight and immediately froze. He had forgotten it in his personal quarters, along with a lighter, matches, and anything that would have helped him create useable light. A quiet sigh escaped his mouth, and he dug into his other pocket for the PDA and activated its backlight. Light glowed from the display and faintly revealed the sewer floor about two feet away. Well, it's better than a match, he told himself, despite the fact it would drain his already dwindling battery life twice as fast as before.

The soiled water rippled around his ankles as he walked down the sewer pipe to the accessway.

Erik faintly heard a radio crackle, and he froze in his tracks. It sounded like it came from the maintenance passage, and he mulled over the thoughts in his head. None of us have radios, he began to think. And the Combine have always had them. But... Maybe Sabrina recovered a few so we can keep in touch? He smiled to himself. Of course. She's always found way to loot the Combine's gear from right under their noses. And how could they have found our annex? Assured that his thoughts were correct, Erik walked to the end of the sewer, rounded the corner and announced his presence.

"Hey Sabrina, it's me, Erik. I --"

He was face-to-mask with a Combine soldier. "HALT AND RAISE YOUR HANDS, CITIZEN!"

//////////////////// END CHAPTER ONE

Comments?

 

[zapher]

DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE! I just shat in mah pants
No, but seriously that was awsome material!
Can't WAIT until I hear the rest of it!

 

[theotherguy]

I Would like to thank the people who have supported this, and as to the one flamer, you have your opinion, why not write some "original" literature of your own? I myself have been writing an original book called "IDA". Anyways, on the next part in Half-life 2, Resistance
____________________________HALFLIFE2/RESISTANCE_______________
THEOTHERGUY
NUMBER 5


“Returning fire!” yelled one of the Combine soldiers in the cabin of the APC. The bullets that were fired at the APC were obviously low-caliber, probably fired from infantry or a light vehicle. Ian knew that it must have been the military of the Czech Republic. He would have liked to say that he wanted them to win, but he was fearful for his own life. He only hoped that the military of his nation would stop the APC, not blow it up.

The soldier that had shouted that he was returning fire leapt to the nearest window-slit, and poked his weapon out of it, firing at the unseen enemy. The soldier was jostled a bit by the turning of the APC, but then got back up to continue firing. As soon as his sights came up to the window, however, he was hit by the automatic fire from outside the APC.

He fell over, and his weapon was quickly taken by his comrade, so that it wouldn’t fall into the hands of the refugees. After a few short minutes, the firing stopped. Even though he did not participate in the firefight, Ian breathed heavily, he was still looking at the fallen Combine soldier, who was shot in the neck and chest.

The APC stopped in its tracks, and propaganda began pouring out it’s loudspeakers in Czech. Ian didn’t know if the propaganda was aimed at the people outside or inside the APC. He didn’t even know what part of the country they were in by now.

“Brave comrades of the Mighty Czech Republic,” boomed a very sinister voice over the loudspeakers of the APC. “You see that your military still resists us; and we ask you why? Why do you resist us when there is little hope? The Combine is not your enemy, comrades; we have come to liberate you from the aliens that infest your homes, and the cruel leaders that oppress you! Come, join us, and we will give you food, water and shelter. We want to help you, not harm you, do not resist! We say this to you in good will comrades, trust us!”

Ian was sickened by this propaganda; it reminded him of the things that the Nazis had said during World War II to the occupied Soviet Union. He told Tonya not to listen to them.

After about 10 minutes of this, two soldiers were dragged into the APC by The Combine. They were stripped of weapons, and were thrown to the ground, handcuffed. They had obviously been participants in the recent battle, as they wore scars, and their fatigue pants were caked in mud.

The guards forbid any of the prisoners to talk to them, probably because they didn’t want them to know how they were captured. The APC continued to drive through the countryside, still spouting its terrible propaganda. Ian knew their destination was soon, and he didn’t know what they’d have to deal with there. But he was tired, and for the first time in 3 hours, he nodded off to sleep.

He was awoken about 20 minutes later by a loud screech; the sound of brakes, and the opening of the back of the APC, Ian looked at his watch, it was 4:50 AM now, and he was most likely back in Prague. “Get off!” yelled one of the Combine soldiers in the cabin, kicking a very hesitant man off the back of the APC.

The educated man wearing the business suit sitting next to Tonya asked the troop: “Where on Earth are we?” The soldier grunted, and then snarled “We are in city 17, no more questions” and then butted him in the gut with the end of his MP5. That man wasn’t very talkative from then on.

It was now Ian and Tonya’s turn to get out of the APC; they stumbled out of it, and into the mud. Ian hadn’t noticed it until now, but it had begun raining some time while they were riding in the APC. Behind Ian came the drunken man, and the two soldiers, both of which fell into the mud, and had to be helped up by Ian and Tonya.

Ian decided that it would be a good idea to try to figure out where exactly they were. Ian looked to the front of the boxy APC, and saw the shattered remains of an Eastern European office building, about 6 stories high. It was surprising to Ian that so much damage had been done in so little time. He noticed that the building was the bank building of his very own city, now being called “city 17” by The Combine.

Ian looked to the right and left, his face dripping with the now steadily falling raindrops. He saw what seemed to be normal city streets, but then, on either side, some ways down the street, he could see that it was already blocked by something he had never seen before in his life.

They were the most absolutely terrifying walls he had ever seen in his life; they were made of some kind of ultra-light absorbent metal, and shone black in the night. They were segmented into many vertical pieces, and had random plates of metal stuck into them in vertical places. The tops were covered in barbed wire. And there seemed to be a few doors, transparent, as if made out of energy, and they shifted with the light, somehow seemed liquid. Ian knew that these must be force fields.

To either side of the walls, there were sniper towers, each containing a Combine soldier holding a very menacing looking gun. Ian understood that these would be the walls that would keep him in this little ghetto from now on, along with the rest of the Czech refugees.

Ian looked behind him, about a football field away was a massive podium, made of the same metal as the walls that surrounded the place, and gathered around it were the other refugees that Ian hadn’t noticed before. There must have been a thousand of them, all of them looked tired, and downright ragged.

There were two likely reasons that The Combine had brought them here: to make them work, or to kill them. Ian hoped that it was not the latter reason.

 

[Chris D]

Just thought I'd pop in and let you guys know something.

I've been trying to push along the idea on to the other staff about the Fan Fiction forum idea that's been floating around over the last few months.

All of the staff are behind it, and although I haven't had a chance to look at the work that's been done in here yet, but it seems to be getting an excellent response from people and it seems as though it'll certainly be worth it's own section within the forum, or the main page.

Keep up the great work, and we'll give you more information once the idea has been confirmed by Munro

 

[theotherguy]

*does little dance* thanks!

 

[Wesisapie]

Yeah well... post work in progress of IDA in off-topic, I would be interested in that. Just fanfiction tends to be a little bit obsessive for my liking. Not to mention stale.

 

[theotherguy]

Yeah well... post work in progress of IDA in off-topic, I would be interested in that. Just fanfiction tends to be a little bit obsessive for my liking. Not to mention stale.

Of course, no one seems to like IDA, because its basically a fanfiction of star trek, star wars, starcraft, and homeworld, but with an orginal plot that adds a race, and brings them all together, but I haven't even talked about any of the things from the other universes yet, so that means its original, at least to far

As for my writing being stale and obsessive, what would you expect, I'm only 14!

Anyway, on with the next one!

_____________________Halflife2/resistance____________________________
THEOTHERGUY
NUMBER 6

After looking around the compound for a moment, Ian saw something move onto the podium. It was a man in another combine uniform, but this time he was draped in what appeared to be a red trench coat, which had many an insignia on it. Ian thought that this man must be a very high-ranking officer, as all of the other combine soldiers snapped quickly to attention.

The man began to speak, aided by loudspeakers. “Former citizens of the Czech Republic,” Boomed a very powerful, commanding voice with an American accent. “You have been brought here today to help your new allies, The Mighty Combine. Our mission is to make this world a better place, and force…unity among its peoples.” Ian knew he was lying by the tone of his voice; he had already begun to hate this officer. “You will be here for the remainder of your natural lives, and you will help to construct the magnificent Combine Structure for us, as well as aid in the production of our fantastic war machine. You will work every day, with no pay but the food we will allow you, the first thing that will happen is that you will divide into companies, which the officers will command. You will then construct your own living facilities, and then begin IMMEDIATLEY on The Combine Structure itself. I will make the rules very clear to this day. If you obey them, your stay here will be much easier. Any person caught voluntarily reading or writing anything except the plans that are provided to you will be shot on the spot, no questions asked. Second, no one will mention the names “The Czech Republic” or “Prague”, as they are of the past, you will refer to this place as “City 17”. Third, everyone works, regardless of your age, sex, or physical condition! Fourth, one company will be subject to medical experiments, and another company will be immediately drafted into our infantry unit.” The officer paused for a while, and looked at the crowd. “That is all! Will the officers now start forming companies?”

The officer then turned, and went into the depths of the building he was standing on previously. Ian couldn’t describe how much he was thankful that they wouldn’t be killed, but he also didn’t know how much of a life he had from now on. One thing was for sure, his life would be hard, and without real reason. From this day forward, he would be helping to ensure the destruction of his own race; and this made him terribly sad. He made it his personal goal that he would escape from this place, sooner or later.

The other combine soldiers began raking through the crowd, and indiscriminately picking people for companies. Ian hoped beyond hope that he wouldn’t be put into medical testing. He also hoped that he would not be drafted.

Ian watched as the officers went around the crowd, touching people at random, and either telling them to line up for them, or throwing them down into the mud. Already, half of the camp stood in straight lines in the steadily pouring rain. With dread, Ian saw an officer coming directly towards him.

The officer wore a white gasmask, striped pants, and a blue flak jacket. He came up to Ian, pulled him back by the hair, looked in his mouth and said. “Good, you and the one you are chained with will work on construction, line up in the line farthest from me!” Ian felt a wave of relief come over him, but he knew it would be hard work. “At least we will be together, Tonya.” He whispered, hoping to comfort her. Ian realized that he had not been paying much attention to Tonya, and if things didn’t work out, he would be spending the rest of his natural life with her. He suddenly felt feelings of responsibility and duty that he had never felt before.

He realized that he had been being selfish, thinking of himself, and the death of his mother and father all this time, he hadn’t even thought anything about Tonya all of this time.

Tonya had been an orphan, like Ian was now, her father ran out on her at an early age, and her mother had died of pneumonia only months after Tonya had her 11th birthday, and she was forced to be taken in by her aunt, Ian’s mother. Ian’s family had only had her a few months, and Ian hadn’t bonded much with Tonya. It looked like he would be forced to now.

Ian slowly trudged through the mud with Tonya, and got to the end of his line, which was situated near the rather tall North Wall. Ian looked up at the soldiers on the top of the wall; they patrolled it with caution, probably since this area had been taken all of 4 hours ago. Ian was very surprised that they would be beginning construction this fast. Ian was surprised that any of this had been happening at all. Before this day, he thought his country and his lifestyle were somehow invincible to the aliens, and it seemed that he was now very wrong.

 

[Sprafa]

If Tonya is older than 11 years-old shouldn't she talk??
Before you sead her age in the last part I thought she was 5 or 6.
just making a remark.

Edit - I think I'll start a new fanfic story, my old one sucks now I'm giving a good look at it.

 

[Infl8able]

Ive been thinking of a stiryline but ts kinda crap-
here it is anyway



Half-Life 2
"The last recorlishen"

My name is John Smit, i was only 13 when i first herd there name, and it sounded cool, i was foolish and hopful back then, but over the next months i lernt they where not really "cool" they killed my parents, there name was and is "The Combine". I remember calling it "the checz republik", i was sent there before my mum and dad where killed as they thought i would have a good chance at survival there, i took the most stupid thing with me, my snowboard, the rest has been useful apart from that damn snowboard. i could of brought flares ammo food lots things apart from a damn snowboard, the most useful thing i brought of mine was my pc, but befire i went my dad gave me something, it was his favert gun, it was a handgun but it was his faveriut he said to me "keep this close son it will help you in times off need", i still use it up to this present day.

I was 17 and had been in Czech for 2 - 3 years then.I and others formed a resisetence group called "A.I.R.G" witch stand for Anti Ivastion Resistentece Group, we had intercept some guns witch where going to a shop but what really happend was they where given to us the shop keeper and staff, they new us and wanted to help out without getting themselfs in trouble, so malcom (he is our lead gun expert well he used to work for HK) made up some story about them being hijacked, so in the end we had guns and they had a story, once we had got the guns we where pretty surprised we was given this tiny create, but inside was alot, we had diffrent types ammo 13 smgs witch where Hk mp7's and 17 pistals, this was pretty lucky as we had 13 members and so we kept the remaining 5 pistals in like check points around the city and these check points and food and stuff in aswell, but where very well hidden. In our main base we had 3 computers only one of them was a tower and moniter the other two where ours you see we was given the tower from this guy called "Eli Vance" we evan saw his daughter and friend from black mesa called "gordon" i so wanted to kick the remaining crap out of him but a) he had a crowbar... gitt and b) i for one was very pleased when they gave us software and equipment, but that still dont mean you can work for that twat in a suit nick named "G-Man" i mean what kind of a nick name is that? annyway our main base was set in an old building but the main opirations is carried out in the lower part of our base witch was dug into the ground.

The main lot where me snowy, malcom shooty, bio - he had alot of mates in the agentcy as well and of course trip. the first day we went out fullt armed we encouted about 9 combine and my mates -----


well thats the main kinda outline plot type thing is it anygood?

 

[Sprafa]

And they say I make grammar errors.

You really should work a little more on it. It's not presentable yet. But you could turn it into something. And tkx for the support to the Fanfic.

 

[Sprafa]

Just thought I'd pop in and let you guys know something.

I've been trying to push along the idea on to the other staff about the Fan Fiction forum idea that's been floating around over the last few months.

All of the staff are behind it, and although I haven't had a chance to look at the work that's been done in here yet, but it seems to be getting an excellent response from people and it seems as though it'll certainly be worth it's own section within the forum, or the main page.

Keep up the great work, and we'll give you more information once the idea has been confirmed by Munro

Even when I asked you about this same question you said - «the site isn't ready, but when it is whe'll do it»

Now the site is ready so you guys should really push Munro in that direction.
And tkx for the official support I was thinking it was weird that the mods hadn't spoken in this topic (lk if you guys were avoiding it...humm...) .

yeah lol im 14 and i dont have word.. i use notepad so....

Use this. It's a translator. And no word... how do you hv Windows without Office...It's lk having cheeseburguer without cheese.

 

[Infl8able]

yeah lol im 14 and i dont have word.. i use notepad so....

 

[Infl8able]

TBH i might make a film out of some or just one of these fan flicks...

hmmm let meh 3 paints and a peanut brain think bout this................................

 

[Sprafa]

please don't let this dieeeeeeeeeee...
This is great material and I will keep posting until the mods make it a Sticky... PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE!

 

[marksmanHL2 :)]

Yes yes yes. Keep writting damnit

 

[theotherguy]

sorry guys, Ive just been having school and an awful lot of blocks to by plot advancing, so i decided to throw in a tiny twist, this next section is not very long, but i promise to do better on the next one (which will come sooner than this one did, since its the weekend)


________________________HL2/RESISTANCE___________________
THEOTHERGUY
NUMBER 7

Ian found himself yet again by the man in the business suit who had “studied The Combine for years”, but the man obviously didn’t seem too happy that he was put in the group for slave labor. He was sitting down in the mud, his face hidden in his hands.

“Hey, I never introduced myself on the APC,” Ian offered to the sad-looking man. “I’m Ian Olbowski, and this is my cousin, Tonya Barovitz, my cousin. It looks like we’re in this together. You say you’ve been studying The Combine?”

The man looked up from his hands “Unfortunately,” he sighed. “I suppose it was my curiosity that got me captured by them. I was passing through Prague because I believed that is where they would strike next. I was just passing through when I came to that roadblock, and they threw me into the APC with you.” The man hid his face again. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell anyone about them being likely to strike this city next, but it was just the first time that I had gotten reliable information of their whereabouts.”

“Can you tell me how you figured it out?” Ian asked the man.

The man had thick glasses, and was had greyer hair than Ian had realized. He looked up from his hands again, and began to speak. “Well, I suppose that’s quite alright. My name, by the way, Is Doctor Kliener, I evacuated to Europe from the United States shortly after the missiles began falling on the east coast of the United States. I was also one of the survivors of the original Black Mesa Incident, I daresay, and I know that many people blame the scientists for unleashing this upon the world, but I was just doing my job, mind you…” Doctor Kliener stood up from the ground, and wiped the mud from his suit. “After I emigrated here, I made it my duty to study what other scientists had found out about The Combine, and eventually, I learned how to tap into their encoded communication network, naturally, this would have been taken into the hands of the government, but given my curious and bumbling nature, I wanted to find things out myself, so for months I listened to their network. I found out about the attacks on London and Paris just minutes before they happened, and I knew that the closest landing I could make it to would be here in Prague. Being a versatile man like myself, I already knew the language, so I headed over to this country. I know realize that the decisions I made to come here were not very good ones at all!”

Dr. Kliener began pacing around, obviously worried of his surroundings. Ian was awed to be standing by someone who was in the original Incident, and at the same time, he was angry at him for not telling anyone what he knew about the attacks. Ian had so many questions to ask him, but at that very moment, the officer in charge of their group appeared yet again.

The sinister looking officer who wore standard garb carrying a loudspeaker and he was followed by a caravan of soldiers carting many mysterious looking alien devices, and standard human tools. Rain dripped down his gasmask, and spattered on his vest.

The officer put the loudspeaker to his gasmask and began to speak. “Prisoners of City 17,” he shouted “Your first task, as The Commander has so gracefully told you, is to build your shelters! These shelters will be standard wooden structures with no plumbing or electrical systems. You will build all 15 structures in 24 hours with the help of our automated machinery. In each building, 100- 150 of your brothers will stay, so build them well! Some of you are chained to partners, so use this to your advantage. Do exactly as the officers say, and you will do well on this project!”

The officer motioned to the others behind him, who emptied to contents of their tool carts in a large pile. Ian noticed a large pile of plywood and timber nearby, it was probably salvaged from the ruined city around them.

“Get to work!” yelled the officer. Ian hadn’t the slightest idea of what the officer wanted them to do exactly, but he at least wanted to do something. “Come on Tonya,” he said with a heavy sigh to his cousin “Lets make ourselves useful…”

 

[Z|insane]

Very nice work guys, alot better then what I could do.

 

[CrazyHarij]

I'm working on a fanfic story that's following two Combine troopers, but I won't post it here because of teh uber suxx0r it is compared to your work.

 

[theotherguy]

I'm working on a fanfic story that's following two Combine troopers, but I won't post it here because of teh uber suxx0r it is compared to your work.

All stories are welcome!

_____________________HL2/RESISTANCE_______________________
THEOTHERGUY
NUMBER 8

The slaves slowly and reluctantly sulked to the pile of plywood which lay near the officer. They slowly formed a single file line, many of them made up of women, children, and the elderly. “Why such varying ages?” asked Ian to Dr. Kliener. He looked at Ian and said very coldly: “They don’t care about us, Ian, they will squeeze every last bit of work out of us, and if it means working women and children to death, then that’s what they’ll do.”

While in line, Ian saw that the slaves that were lined up at the plywood were receiving tools. Only every two or three people received tools, because there obviously weren’t enough to supply all of them.

Soon, after giving a great many of the slaves tools, the line came up to Ian, Dr. Kliener, and Tonya. Dr. Kliener received nothing from the officers, and said “oh, fie” and kept moving along the line. Ian was given a very beat up shovel, with only half a handle. Tonya received nothing as well.

At that point, the rain began to stop, and Ian could now clearly see the complex around him. He realized that what he had been trudging through were the remains of the main square of a small town. He could see a fallen statue near the podium where the officer had given his speech.

Ian checked his watch; it was almost 6:00 now, dawn would be coming soon. Had it really been that long? Ian wondered. But Ian didn’t really care, this night felt like it had lasted a thousand years, Ian’s world had been turned upside-down. He had turned from college material, almost out of high school, into a slave with no hope for the future.

Ian was stopped in the line when he came to the pile of wood. He was handed a very large slab of wood, and he and Tonya were forced o carry it together. “Do you need help?” Ian asked his cousin. She seemed like she could barley hold her end of the plank. “No, I don’t.” She managed a smile, and pulled her end up higher. Ian suddenly felt a little pride for his cousin.

“Great, come on, we’ve got to build our own sleeping room, so we might as well do it good. I have no idea what we’re supposed to do with this plank, but I’m sure the officers will tell us.”

Ian and Tonya carried the plank over to what was apparently the building site, where many people sat around and did nothing. Soon after all of this standing around, an officer came by and said “we told you what you needed to do! Build structures, we don’t care how you do it, just make sure that it sleeps at least 100 people!”

At this, the slaves gasped. They were expected to build the buildings with no plans at all, just the mediocre tools and the random pieces of plywood they carried. There was a moment of mass confusion, and then a man shouted out: “I know, this is madness, but I am an architect major, it is possible for us to build rudimentary shelters here, but not ones that will last. We’ll have to find the remains of a building that has been razed by The Combine. We can use its foundations and possibly remaining walls to build a structure of our own!”

When the slaves heard this, they all seemed to murmur in agreement, and they decided to follow this architect. After some searching, they discovered the foundations of a building right on that very site, and it had one remaining corner, and its South wall.

“This will do!” the architect shouted. The man who had been giving them directions about the foundation now been directing people to place their wood in a pile in the center of the bombed out building, and then began directing people in ways to build the structure. It turned out that some of the people had been given several nails and hammers, and what they did not have they found in the destroyed building.

Within a little time, Ian and the others had begun to make the frame for the building out of the more sturdy pieces of wood. It was a simple box, resting on the elongated rectangle foundation of the razed building. With all of them working, it only took them a couple of hours to put walls on the structure, and even a roof. Within that time, it began to actually look like a building.

All morning they labored, using a lot of the wood in the pile, with absolutely no help from The Combine. With determination and skill, the outside of the building was totally complete before noon. (Try seeing a normal construction company doing that) and when it was complete, all 300 of the slaves celebrated.

Ian couldn’t believe his eyes. They had completed a structure, albeit a rudimentary one, in less than 6 hours. And, as promised, the structure would sleep 100 or more people, given that they all squeezed together, and if they put in a second floor. But they still had 200 more people to accommodate for, and that would mean making two more structures. Truly, their work had just begun for The Combine.