J
JJiggssaw
Guest
To Whom it May Concern: This peice of fan fiction does include the occasional swear word, just like Half Life 2. It also is not recommended for those who have not started the game, because while it doesn't include 'spoilers' it introduces a character from Half Life 2. In other words, BEWARE! One more thing: I'm not a professional writer, but I like to think that my writing isn't terrible. If you disagree, please notify me otherwise. In fact, no matter what you think of this, I encourage you to comment anyway. Without further ado, here it is:
Prologue
The Blue Café
Washington, DC
The United States of America
October 31, 1995
9:47 am
Agent Five sipped his coffee and read the day’s headlines: Canada’s Referendum–Quebec Votes No. Clinton Stalls on Security. Serial Rapist Apprehended in Michigan. Keeping Safe on Halloween. Nothing suspicious; no news of distortions in space-time or a strange cloud hanging over southern New Mexico. And that was exactly how it should be. The government’s scientific secrets were secure, and Agent Five would call the NSA on the pay-phone outside. But reading newspapers was not his mission, although it was a very small part of it. His mission was something much more important and far more sinister. More aliens had appeared in the Chihuahuan Desert, at random locations but all of them died quickly of the heat. Strange carcasses had been found by tourists, and a man had gone missing–except that his shadow remained on the sand for days afterward. Strange events seemed scripted–almost as if the conclusion to this mess had already been decided. Agent Five had witnessed all of this; the government trusted him with its darkest paranormal secret–that the aliens were coming, and nothing, nothing in the world could stop them. Nothing, in the world…
National Security Agency
Fort Meade, Maryland
The United States of America
July 17, 1995
3:51 am
The G-man answered in his hesitant, lilting voice, with its alien inflection, “The Combine, Mr. Huntington, do not appreciate Earth’s imminent crisis as well as you might imagine. Concern for Earth is limited among their ranks, and few believe that the war with Xen could possibly reach this universe.” Mr. Huntington, head of the NSA paranormal division, lit a cigarette and sat down, looking defeated.
“G-man, we are running out of options. We cannot shut down Black Mesa, as Dr. Breen, you tell me, is orchestrating communications with this Combine, and he needs the portals to the hellhole called Xen. You tell me that is too late to shut down the whole thing and forget about interdimensional war, alien invaders, and any other peice of sci-fi bullshit you care to alert us to”, Huntington was standing up again, his cigarette forgotten, “Come on G-man, America has a War on Terror, a War on Drugs, even a war with Saddam that everybody forgets about, but a war with goddamned aliens from another dimension? And now, you tell me, you can’t shut down a little physics experiment in the middle of the ****ing Navajo Desert and save the world-”, the irate Mr. Huntington took a breath, “Because some chemistry teacher is having a chat with Nazis in the seventh ****ing dimension!”
“Well summarized. Yes, that is exactly what I have been repeating to your government for several years. The Combine will take over Earth in less than half of a day against even the very best defense that your leaders can prepare. This is when I will intervene. I will already have found a suitable candidate to first destroy the invader’s center of power, and then who will do my employer’s bidding in the war against both the Xen and The Combine. Trust me, once I rid this puny world of Xen, The Combine will have little interest in this insignificant and unrewarding planet. The will turn their attention to more important battlefields and you can forget about other dimensions, physics experiments, and all the other petty troubles that you attribute to me. At least, until I see fit to warn Earth of another crisis. But, Mr. Huntington, for now events are already in motion: The Nihilanth is rallying his forces, and for a while, Black Mesa will be the focus of the world. It will be very confusing for a time. All, however, will be revealed within the course of... well, one day I do hope that you will understand.” And with that, The G-man faded into a silhouette and then disappeared entirely, leaving a lonely and confused civil servant in his wake.
Chapter 1: The Words of 867
Train 57892
Near City 16
Region J-7
December 14, 2010
Jonathan gripped his suitcase tightly and eyed up the other passengers on the train. Some looked ashamed, some looked hopeful, some showed no expression. The seat was uncomfortable, but it was better than the floor. The floor was where the girls sat, because they were too weak to fight the men for a seat. Jonathan was one of the hopeful passengers. The Combine had been good to his family. They were allowed an apartment in one of the safe tenements; his father had worked in a factory making guns and so he brought home food most nights. One day though, his father brought home a gun for the family and hid it under the bed. The next day the Civil Protection showed up the door and had a long and angry conversation with his father. His father started crying, pleading, begging, but the cops came in anyway and made Jonathan stand up and take off his clothes. They looked at his body through their masks and seemed to approve of his figure. They growled some words to each other that Jonathan hadn’t understood. His father told him to put his clothes back on, and the Civil Protection led him out of the apartment, down the street and onto this train. He did not struggle because he saw what the blue electric batons could do to a man’s skull. He was fourteen years old, and he was going to join the Civil Protection.
The train lurched to a halt. Jonathan nearly fell out of his seat. Four Combine soldiers climbed on through the side door and took a cursory glance at the pitiful humans on board. Seemingly at random they chose men and women and led them outside. Some of them whimpered, some cried, and some tried to escape, but all of them were grouped outside (Jonathan watched through the window) and they all whispered about stalkers. Stalkers! Stalkers! Human Slaves! The soldiers made the people climb onto a Combine industrial train that had pulled up alongside. One woman started to run, and made it perhaps ten steps before the Combine soldier gunned her down. The Overwatch then stepped onto the industrial train and the whole scene slipped away as Jonathan’s train began to move again.
At their destination, a plain grey train station, four Civil Protection officers led the citizens onto the platform and through a gate in a fence. They marched past a giant screen on which the Human Administrator, Doctor Breen, answering questions from compliant citizens. This was the first time Jonathan had seen him, and something in his atmosphere gave him the chills. All of the citizens followed the CPs down a corridor into a bright room where they were allowed to sit at tables and eat plain grey food that was already laid out for them on plain grey plates. One man muttered that he couldn’t tell where the food ended and where the plate began. A civil protection officer marched over, picked him up by his collar threw him against the wall. There was a loud crunch as the blue-clothed citizen hit the concrete bricks and then silence as he fell into a broken heap at the bottom. “Compliance is imperative!” The message rang out from one of the four identical Metro Cops. After that, nobody said a word.
After eating, all of the men and women were allowed to use the bathroom. It was dank and filthy and a half-decomposed headcrab lay in the corner. There were no toilets, only a large pit. After releaving themselves, the citizens were escorted to their bunks, where they had to sit (“No sleeping!” barked the Civil Protection officer.) Another cop walked in and joined the other four in front of all the bunks, and he took off his mask. His face was father-like and gentle, and it reminded Jonathan of the Santa Claus at the mall, in his very youngest years before the portal storms. When the man spoke, however, his voice came out in clipped and harsh tones.
“Good evening, Citizens. My name is Staff Sergeant 867. You will refer to me as Staff Sergeant or Sir. Before I continue, I shall tell you that you are commended by Earth’s Administration for showing leadership among your fellow Citizens and complying with Civil Protection.” Jonathan looked for the man who had spoken out during their meal, but he was gone, leaving one empty bunk.
“Now, in turn, shall you become minor leaders among our most excellent race of humanity. You are joining Civil Protection, and in doing your duty to your superiors you do a duty to every human on this Earth, by protecting them from whatever harmful and degenerate actions they may take to inflict damage upon themselves and other citizens. And for this great service to society, you will be fed well, clothed well in armor, and you shall be entrusted with a weapon with which you may defend yourself, your comrades, and other compliant citizens. For ten weeks you shall learn how do your duty in our training facility, where you shall be treated well providing that you follow orders and are compliant throughout the entire training process. Should you act rebellious, instigate discord, or fail to comply in any capacity, swiftly and inescapably shall the consequences fall upon your person. And in the same way should you act harmoniously with your comrades-in-arms and other citizens, follow orders and comply at all times, you shall live a good life under the protection of Earth’s Administration. Perhaps, should you be recognized by your superiors as having extraordinary talent you will be assigned to much loftier position such as mine, exalted far above the station of the average citizen. Now, before you rest, I have one more message to inform you of: that you have chosen, or been chosen, to join Civil Protection and therefore there is absolutely no reason for you to desire to return to any other lowly status among your former fellow citizens. From now on until the day you are delivered unto God shall you protect and guide humanity through its inevitable progress and accelerated evolution that is presented in our joining the extraordinarily generous and exalted people, the Combine.” The staff sergeant paused in his passionate monologue, took a breath, and continued in a quieter tone, “Now, with these words, I leave you to rest yourselves until the morning, at which time you shall be transferred to the training facility. I bid you all good night, and I hope that I find you well-rested, compliant, and ready to do your duty on the morrow.” The sergeant nodded to his inferiors, and three left with him through the concrete doorframe. One officer remained in the room to tell them that they could now lie down and go to sleep. Jonathan closed his eyes and struggled to find a comfortable position on the hard mattress. He eventually fell into a deep, dreamless sleep and did not wake for several hours.
Jonathan, of the Civil ProtectionPrologue
The Blue Café
Washington, DC
The United States of America
October 31, 1995
9:47 am
Agent Five sipped his coffee and read the day’s headlines: Canada’s Referendum–Quebec Votes No. Clinton Stalls on Security. Serial Rapist Apprehended in Michigan. Keeping Safe on Halloween. Nothing suspicious; no news of distortions in space-time or a strange cloud hanging over southern New Mexico. And that was exactly how it should be. The government’s scientific secrets were secure, and Agent Five would call the NSA on the pay-phone outside. But reading newspapers was not his mission, although it was a very small part of it. His mission was something much more important and far more sinister. More aliens had appeared in the Chihuahuan Desert, at random locations but all of them died quickly of the heat. Strange carcasses had been found by tourists, and a man had gone missing–except that his shadow remained on the sand for days afterward. Strange events seemed scripted–almost as if the conclusion to this mess had already been decided. Agent Five had witnessed all of this; the government trusted him with its darkest paranormal secret–that the aliens were coming, and nothing, nothing in the world could stop them. Nothing, in the world…
National Security Agency
Fort Meade, Maryland
The United States of America
July 17, 1995
3:51 am
The G-man answered in his hesitant, lilting voice, with its alien inflection, “The Combine, Mr. Huntington, do not appreciate Earth’s imminent crisis as well as you might imagine. Concern for Earth is limited among their ranks, and few believe that the war with Xen could possibly reach this universe.” Mr. Huntington, head of the NSA paranormal division, lit a cigarette and sat down, looking defeated.
“G-man, we are running out of options. We cannot shut down Black Mesa, as Dr. Breen, you tell me, is orchestrating communications with this Combine, and he needs the portals to the hellhole called Xen. You tell me that is too late to shut down the whole thing and forget about interdimensional war, alien invaders, and any other peice of sci-fi bullshit you care to alert us to”, Huntington was standing up again, his cigarette forgotten, “Come on G-man, America has a War on Terror, a War on Drugs, even a war with Saddam that everybody forgets about, but a war with goddamned aliens from another dimension? And now, you tell me, you can’t shut down a little physics experiment in the middle of the ****ing Navajo Desert and save the world-”, the irate Mr. Huntington took a breath, “Because some chemistry teacher is having a chat with Nazis in the seventh ****ing dimension!”
“Well summarized. Yes, that is exactly what I have been repeating to your government for several years. The Combine will take over Earth in less than half of a day against even the very best defense that your leaders can prepare. This is when I will intervene. I will already have found a suitable candidate to first destroy the invader’s center of power, and then who will do my employer’s bidding in the war against both the Xen and The Combine. Trust me, once I rid this puny world of Xen, The Combine will have little interest in this insignificant and unrewarding planet. The will turn their attention to more important battlefields and you can forget about other dimensions, physics experiments, and all the other petty troubles that you attribute to me. At least, until I see fit to warn Earth of another crisis. But, Mr. Huntington, for now events are already in motion: The Nihilanth is rallying his forces, and for a while, Black Mesa will be the focus of the world. It will be very confusing for a time. All, however, will be revealed within the course of... well, one day I do hope that you will understand.” And with that, The G-man faded into a silhouette and then disappeared entirely, leaving a lonely and confused civil servant in his wake.
Chapter 1: The Words of 867
Train 57892
Near City 16
Region J-7
December 14, 2010
Jonathan gripped his suitcase tightly and eyed up the other passengers on the train. Some looked ashamed, some looked hopeful, some showed no expression. The seat was uncomfortable, but it was better than the floor. The floor was where the girls sat, because they were too weak to fight the men for a seat. Jonathan was one of the hopeful passengers. The Combine had been good to his family. They were allowed an apartment in one of the safe tenements; his father had worked in a factory making guns and so he brought home food most nights. One day though, his father brought home a gun for the family and hid it under the bed. The next day the Civil Protection showed up the door and had a long and angry conversation with his father. His father started crying, pleading, begging, but the cops came in anyway and made Jonathan stand up and take off his clothes. They looked at his body through their masks and seemed to approve of his figure. They growled some words to each other that Jonathan hadn’t understood. His father told him to put his clothes back on, and the Civil Protection led him out of the apartment, down the street and onto this train. He did not struggle because he saw what the blue electric batons could do to a man’s skull. He was fourteen years old, and he was going to join the Civil Protection.
The train lurched to a halt. Jonathan nearly fell out of his seat. Four Combine soldiers climbed on through the side door and took a cursory glance at the pitiful humans on board. Seemingly at random they chose men and women and led them outside. Some of them whimpered, some cried, and some tried to escape, but all of them were grouped outside (Jonathan watched through the window) and they all whispered about stalkers. Stalkers! Stalkers! Human Slaves! The soldiers made the people climb onto a Combine industrial train that had pulled up alongside. One woman started to run, and made it perhaps ten steps before the Combine soldier gunned her down. The Overwatch then stepped onto the industrial train and the whole scene slipped away as Jonathan’s train began to move again.
At their destination, a plain grey train station, four Civil Protection officers led the citizens onto the platform and through a gate in a fence. They marched past a giant screen on which the Human Administrator, Doctor Breen, answering questions from compliant citizens. This was the first time Jonathan had seen him, and something in his atmosphere gave him the chills. All of the citizens followed the CPs down a corridor into a bright room where they were allowed to sit at tables and eat plain grey food that was already laid out for them on plain grey plates. One man muttered that he couldn’t tell where the food ended and where the plate began. A civil protection officer marched over, picked him up by his collar threw him against the wall. There was a loud crunch as the blue-clothed citizen hit the concrete bricks and then silence as he fell into a broken heap at the bottom. “Compliance is imperative!” The message rang out from one of the four identical Metro Cops. After that, nobody said a word.
After eating, all of the men and women were allowed to use the bathroom. It was dank and filthy and a half-decomposed headcrab lay in the corner. There were no toilets, only a large pit. After releaving themselves, the citizens were escorted to their bunks, where they had to sit (“No sleeping!” barked the Civil Protection officer.) Another cop walked in and joined the other four in front of all the bunks, and he took off his mask. His face was father-like and gentle, and it reminded Jonathan of the Santa Claus at the mall, in his very youngest years before the portal storms. When the man spoke, however, his voice came out in clipped and harsh tones.
“Good evening, Citizens. My name is Staff Sergeant 867. You will refer to me as Staff Sergeant or Sir. Before I continue, I shall tell you that you are commended by Earth’s Administration for showing leadership among your fellow Citizens and complying with Civil Protection.” Jonathan looked for the man who had spoken out during their meal, but he was gone, leaving one empty bunk.
“Now, in turn, shall you become minor leaders among our most excellent race of humanity. You are joining Civil Protection, and in doing your duty to your superiors you do a duty to every human on this Earth, by protecting them from whatever harmful and degenerate actions they may take to inflict damage upon themselves and other citizens. And for this great service to society, you will be fed well, clothed well in armor, and you shall be entrusted with a weapon with which you may defend yourself, your comrades, and other compliant citizens. For ten weeks you shall learn how do your duty in our training facility, where you shall be treated well providing that you follow orders and are compliant throughout the entire training process. Should you act rebellious, instigate discord, or fail to comply in any capacity, swiftly and inescapably shall the consequences fall upon your person. And in the same way should you act harmoniously with your comrades-in-arms and other citizens, follow orders and comply at all times, you shall live a good life under the protection of Earth’s Administration. Perhaps, should you be recognized by your superiors as having extraordinary talent you will be assigned to much loftier position such as mine, exalted far above the station of the average citizen. Now, before you rest, I have one more message to inform you of: that you have chosen, or been chosen, to join Civil Protection and therefore there is absolutely no reason for you to desire to return to any other lowly status among your former fellow citizens. From now on until the day you are delivered unto God shall you protect and guide humanity through its inevitable progress and accelerated evolution that is presented in our joining the extraordinarily generous and exalted people, the Combine.” The staff sergeant paused in his passionate monologue, took a breath, and continued in a quieter tone, “Now, with these words, I leave you to rest yourselves until the morning, at which time you shall be transferred to the training facility. I bid you all good night, and I hope that I find you well-rested, compliant, and ready to do your duty on the morrow.” The sergeant nodded to his inferiors, and three left with him through the concrete doorframe. One officer remained in the room to tell them that they could now lie down and go to sleep. Jonathan closed his eyes and struggled to find a comfortable position on the hard mattress. He eventually fell into a deep, dreamless sleep and did not wake for several hours.
jonathan was the name of the "bullsquid rider", one of my fanfics, good job though
