Description: This story I made is not one of my best, but is not one of my worst. It describes the events of an I.S.F.O.S marine being stranded on the fictional world of "Overrus Prime", a fictional military complex.

Enjoy!

I'm pinned to the back of my seat, as the Life Pod I am in is launched out of it's tube. As I looked

through the metal infused glass window, the burning hull of my home, the S.S. Eternal Watchman,

shrunk in size as the distance between the pod and the dreadnaught increased. Above it, was the

thing that had caused this emergency abandoning of ship: an ominous geometric figure, that utterly

dwarfs the size of dreadnaught. Frequency receivers located throughout the pod emit a low

cybernetic hum...the sound of the massive figure's engines.

Meanwhile, the CPU of the Life Pod flashed into life.

"Life Pod Number 5748 is jettisoned. Distance from main craft: 29.45 Mi----"

The CPU began to glitch, as multiple commands were being initiated at once.

"Thermal disturbance detected near main craft."

A glowing mass started to churn and rotate, and at the same time aligns itself with the Eternal

Watchman. It began to grow exponentially brighter, to the point where I had to look away.

"Thermal estimates indicate an exponential increase in thermal activity. It is suggested that the Life

Pod be propelled to a safer distance, immediately."

The CPU warned.

A red button suddenly revealed its presence on the control panel. Logically, I pressed it and thus

activated the emergency thrusters. The Life pods around me, which I haven't noticed before, did the

same. Within seconds the speed of the pod went from 15 km/S to over 40 km/S. The hull of the

Watchman getting to the point where it can barely be seen. On the contrary, the massive figure still

hovers above the dreadnaught, all the while getting brighter by the second. Suddenly, a beam of

white light made its way across the pure black embrace of the vacuum that surrounds the massive
figure and the Watchman.

The CPU announced a message that made my skin crawl.

"Fusion detonation detected!"

Such a detonation could mean a couple of things: either an invisible mini star just blew itself up, or the Watchman's fusion coil core got ruptured.

I preyed that it wasn't the second option, as thousands of personnel were still trapped aboard the

dreadnaught--but deep in my heart, I knew the Eternal Watchman was no more. But to be honest, I

am not saddened, after all, I'm alive. Some of my fellow crewmen were lucky to escape.

"Final Destination: Planet Overus Prime, Continuum Military Complex." The CPU announced.

"Running diagnostics: Life signs are normal. Computer Systems online. Onboard AI is online. Life

Pod shield system online. Communications Relay is online. Onboard Power Core online and active.

Oxygen production-- Warning! Electro Magnetic Pulse detected!"

I didn't need to be told twice. The pod was already orbiting the planet. If I lose engine power, I

would be pulled down by gravity. The chance of burning up in the atmosphere just doubled.

I strapped myself in, and waited for the CPU to announce that I was going to die.

But then it didn't. The emergency NOT-Gate activated the back-up re-entry systems. Through the

pod window, the surface of the planet grew closer by the second. The rims of the pod began to

glow red as the friction of the atmosphere met the pod's metal outer shell. The pod window

darkened as the physical shield enveloped it to prevent the glass from melting. The hull began to

tremble. As the pod fell, the CPU silently activated drag fins. The parachute also activated at a

certain altitude. If it weren't for my restraints, inertia would have flung me out of my seat.

"Emergency re-entry system commenced successfully. Air resistance dropping to sustainable levels."

The CPU opened the physical shield on the window. All around me, other pods were slowly floating

to the surface. I managed to count 126 until an alarm blared.

"Warning! Life Pod is heading towards large body of water! This pod is not equipped with buoyancy devices."

The pod is still going over 30 miles per hour. So it does not take long for the pod to splash down.

The escape hatch opens, and the hiss of pressurized air escaping into the rest of the world blinds me to the sudden groan of the severely weakened outer-hull starting to give way to the cold

Overusian water. Only when liquid starts to pool around my feat do I realize that the Life Pod is sinking. I attempt to escape, but the CPU glitches and closes the hatch just as I was about to reach it.

"Pre-ar--g for re----ee-ntry. Please d-d-d-do not open the escape hatch for another 9-9-9-9-9-9-9-9 minutes."

Water comes in a spray, letting in at least 5 gallons a second. The CPU warns.

"Multiple b-b-b-b-breaches detected! Activate multi role helmet immediately!"

The CPU then shorts out in a shower of sparks.

I completely forgot! The multirole helmet I had by my side for the entire trip is floating in the now

flooding Life Pod. The water is up to my neck now. The buoyancy of my body allows me to float.

But that won't be for long as the pod gets completely flooded. In a fit of flailing that was supposed

to be swimming, I grab, equip, and activate the helmet just as the water fully engulfs me. At first, I

cannot breath. But millisecond later, the helmet starts producing oxygen. I hear the now sinking Life

Pod groan as the pressure builds. Seconds later, 50 meters below sea level, the pod sets on what

looks like a lake bed. Sediment replace the gap that was the window. With nothing to do, I make a

mental list of what I can salvage and take: An ARC-46 Plasma Carbine, a laser cutter, a light wave

transmitter, 10 pocket thermal flares, a plasma knife, Four magazines of Plasma Carbine

ammunition, 10 days worth of rations, and a fire/water proof "Hang in there!" kitten poster. I also

managed to find a large, ultra light-weight survival backpack that doubles as a self rechargeable

jump-pack. Pretty good survival kit for a Life Pod, but it'll mean nothing if I don't get out of this

sunken craft. So I did the only logical thing I could think of: I cut the hatch open, and used my pack

to push myself as far as it can before needing to recharge. I managed to go about 40 meters, but

then I started to sink back down to the lake bed. In my mind, my only option was to try to swim

(flail) out of it, but that would just attract some sort of animal. So I let myself sink back down to the

lakebed. That is when I had the stupidest idea: walk across the lakebed until I get to the shore.

Sure, it's plausible, I mean, there is a slope about 20 meters long that eventually leads to the

surface, but I'm not sure that I will make it. I mean there are plenty of animals in just this one lakebed that would be fine with raw human--but, now that I think of it, humans taste and smell like crap. Not to mention that we are incredibly scrawny, and bone-filled. Not an easy meal for ANY

predator. But just in-case, I kept my ARC-46 by my side. Now I began my 2 hour walk towards the

shore, along the way encountering a multitude of predators and parasites that were a little too interested in the taste of human. May they rest in pieces. As I walked, a feeling, a really strange

feeling of calmness enveloped me. An animal harmlessly taps against the hard metal layers of the helmet--wait... AN ANIMAL? I reach out, and grab what looks like some sort of crab. It's legs move

like an arthropod--flexibility and all. I throw it, and it floats away. But I soon see it crawl back and

attach itself to my leg. I suddenly hear small taps as it attempts to bite my leg. Eventually, I decided

not to kill it, but rather keep it as some sort of companion. I press a button on the right side of my

helmet, which activates a scanner, and find out that the animal has no name, but is nicknamed

"head-crab", due to it's strikingly similar features to the well known entity of a popular, but old

game. It's also omnivorous. The helmet did the scan entirely while I continued walking. Mere

minutes later, I hear the harmless taps of the head-crab increase in intensity. Judging by the amount

of time past, it must be looking for some food. So I grab a nearby plant, and drop it onto the head-crab's... er... face. It was devoured within milliseconds. The taps stop. But, when I thought it would

finally release its hold on my leg, it refused to go. I scan it again. It's neural readings show a sense

of necessity within their vast, chemical based archives. As if it wants to hang on, for food or

something. All the while I would be wondering how this decision by the head-crab would be

beneficial to me, until I was suddenly attacked by a beast the size of a small alligator. Through a

multitude of holes in it's back, the head-crab sprayed and dispersed a series of chemicals that

created a black fog around the creature. The attacking creature began to thrash in the fog, and

bolted away in a sudden burst of speed, all the while thrashing in an erratic manner. Further analysis

of the fog indicates a large trace of lead. The lead concentration must have been massive, as scans

soon indicated that the fog itself was indiscriminately lethal to all types of organisms. So, with a
living predator repellant canister holding on to my leg, I continue to walk on the lake bed.

----------------------------------------------1.5 Hours Later---------------------------------------------------

The lake bed is getting steeper by the meter. The star, similar to the Sun of the Sol (Earth) System,

made the water above shimmer as if it was made by some sort of mineral. The light got closer, and sounds began reach my helmet's frequency sensors. Two minutes later, my helmet finally breached

the surface of the lake. I kept on walking until I was completely out of the water, sinking my feet into

the wet slush of dirt and gravel. Proceeding to continue further, I activated my jump pack and

decided to give myself a little boost---bad idea. The head-crab on my leg let go with a sudden

screech that receded almost instantly. I am in the air, feeling as if I could fly...in which case I was for

a brief moment, but was then pulled back down due to gravity. Air flies by my face in a form of

friction, of course I don't hear it. Instead, with the three seconds I am in the air, I hear my frequency

sensors pop. I then land on my stomach, and role 8.493 times before landing face flat in a pit of

slushy ground. My visor of which I see out of is suddenly a brownish-black, buried in the mud-like

surface. My first thought is to crawl out of this muck, but that is soon blew out of my mind as a

corvette (the ship kind, not the car) blew its VTOL engines directly onto my position. It could be a

friendly rescue ship searching for survivors. Or it could be an enemy assault drop-ship, searching

for survivors. As I thought, I hear eight, successive, wet thuds on either side of me. One moves, and

sniffs the air loudly. A low, gurgled growl makes my skin crawl, as I now realize what is on either

side of me: they are four legged extermination drones, nicknamed "Bull-hounds". They are

deployed by the enemy to rid the surrounding area of human life. Each weighs at least 500 pounds,

depending on their class. The VTOL engines cease, as the drop-ship flies out of the area."I do

believe, that I am genuinely screwed" I think to myself. That is, until I notice a slimy, black tube

cross my visor's vision. Above me, I can feel the uneasy steps of the drones, adjusting themselves,

as if they feel that something is wrong--and they have reason to believe, as within the seconds,

something pops out of the muck and straps itself to one of the drones. It screeches loudly as it's

face is getting attacked by a giant, worm like creature. I hear a successive series of pops, as more

ambush the duo of drones. I see my chance and I take it. I use my core strength to launch me off

the ground. It only gives me 5 inches--just enough to allow me to orient myself feet first. I make like

a bee on steroids and sprint as fast as humanly possible. My armor amplifies that speed by 100%,

giving me a whopping speed of 49 MPH. One of the bull-hounds notices and fails at an attempt to screech as a worm-like creature jumped through the now open mouth of the beast. The mucky

ground I run on is filled with little twigs--worm triggers. Behind me, the worms pop out of the

ground to strangle a nonexistent prey.

A rocky ledge is ahead. "NYYYYYEEEEEEEEEER!!!!!!" I hear something scream in a low voice, only

to realize that it's me. The worms in front of me are taking suite to the worms I triggered. And are

popping out of the ground, only to get stepped on, or simply miss. The ledge is getting closer. 50

yards. 20 yards. I am home free when I suddenly trip on something! I am sent flying into the air. I fly

5 meters before landing, and rolling. I look at my body to see if I am injured. My arms are

functioning normal, same with my legs, and the rest of me. But something is normal. I'm covered in

crap, dirt, and worm guts. I hear a soft clanking on my back. I stand up, and hear something

squirm. I pull what feels like a root of my back--it's actually a worm. It strains and clicks. I quickly

break its neck before it can do anything. A mini forest of triggers is to my right. To distract them, I

throw the corpse of the worm at them. Just as planned, the worms in the vicinity take the bait and

drag the corpse back into the ground. The rocky ledge is 6 feet away. I tiredly march forward, when

I see something unusual: a bush. I don't take my chances. I take a pocket flare out of my pocket,

and chuck it at the bush. I then quickly take out my carbine and fire a short burst. The bush bursts

into purple flames, and I hear a muffled roar from beneath the ground. With haste, I march the rest of the way. The rock is most likely some form of magnetite, as my gun begins to shake in my hand.

It feels as if I am glued to the surface. I curse aloud.

"CPU? Where the hell am I?" I demanded.

"You are currently located on the eastern side of Overus Prime." It answers.

"How far from the west side?" I ask.

"You are currently 500 yards from the nearest point of human civilization." It replies incorrectly.

"I never asked for the nearest point of civilization. I want to know how far I am from the west side!"
I demand.

"You are currently 500 yards from the nearest point of human civilization.". The CPU spoke in its robotic, infinitely confident voice.

"Stupid AI." I mumble.

"Happy to help!" The CPU speaks as if it wasn't having a GPS failure.

On my own, I decide to walk to my destination. My legs are stuck to the floor by my metal armor.

"Ugh. AI? What is the fastest mode of transportation in this certain situation?" I ask.

"Your fastest mode of transport, as of now, is shuffling." It replies.

"You're kidding. Right?" I try to question it.

"Happy to help!" It confirms.

I let out a low growl, and then suddenly explode.

"Take your 'help' and shove it up your-!"

"Please watch your profanity" it cuts me off.

--------------------------------------------------1 hour later---------------------------------------------------

After much shuffling, and cursing, I finally inch out of the 'magnet grounds' as I call them now. The outpost lays just three meters away. I would expect that I would have to knock, or something, but it seems that I already attracted enough attention with my shuffling scene. I walk forward, and see the gate open before me, as I suspected. The men of the outpost silently stared at me, many silently snickering.

One man walks forward.
"You'd make a good dancer".

Everyone erupts in laughter--except me.

I attempt to respond, "Ok, smart as-"

"Please watch your profanity" the bot cuts me off again.

The man is wearing light grey and blue armor with geometric symbols--he is a continuum marine. The continuum is a allied organization of human origin. They too are fighting the enemy, so we are allies.

"Do you have any idea about what crap I went through to get here? Please shut up." I respond.

The crowd grows silent. The only sound is the rumble of the gate closing.

"I nearly got drowned by a lake, mauled by some shark-like creature, torn apart by two bull-hounds, and dragged into the ground by a horde of giant worms!" I yelled at him.

"That would explain the swarm-leech feces your covered in." The man says.

"So you better think before--I'm sorry, but what did you say?" I say in sudden surprise.

"You smell terrible as well." The man adds.

I take off my helmet, knowing that the air is now safe to breath. I should've breathed through my mouth. My nostrils suddenly feel as if they were filled with cow manure. Not only does it smell like absolute trash, but the scent is so thick that it actually feels as if it were solid. I gag.

"Where is the nearest cleaning chamber?" I say in between coughing fits.

"Alright boys! Go back to your business. This new guy needs to cleanup." The inhabitants of the outpost disperse.
"Go east about 30 meters, down the hall, and then take a left." He answers.

--------------------------------------------10 minutes later----------------------------------------------------

The armor that my comrades and I wear is an engineering marvel. The armor composition known as "Izanium" made into 3 layers: the top, and strongest layer, is made into a nano-scale pattern that disperses plasma bolt energy and bullets alike. The second layer is made of a composite gel that is designed to protect the body from low-planet orbit altitude drops. The gel also has some resistance to plasma, bullet, and thermal energy. The last and final layer is a nano-composite body glove that can withstand temperatures of up to 5,000 degrees (same as the other layers), and is able to withstand many solid melee weapons, as well as animal bite forces of up to 2,000 pounds per square inch. This also allows the suit of armor to go extremely deep underwater. At first, I thought nothing could harm the armor...well I haven't met Swarm-Leech feces. The stuff got into every nook and cranny it found, and you had to wash it with a special enzyme in order for it to actually dissolve. I found out that, if it dried, it would turn into a brick-like material. The reason it never dried was because of the western rains that constantly pound the "Leech Grounds" as I call them.
Anyways, the enzyme did the trick, and the suit was washed with a final rinse of cold water.
I look at my now cleaned armor and all it's glory. It was asphalt black, with dark grey in some places. The visor was a glossy purple. On the right shoulder, the symbol of a golden eagle, with five stars below it in a "V" formation, shined defiantly contrasting the black of the armor. My faction of 890 billion is represented in that symbol. Now that I mention it, I'm really not wearing anything but my undies, a tightly fitting thermal suit, and my pack that has always been with me. The environment in this humid room is surreal, as there is no sound but my soft breathing and occasional foot steps. This room is built to be sound-proof, as the rest of the building would amplify the sound of the cleaning room to an ear-splitting volume...which is why I am probably still alive, and why there are now over 1,000 hostiles between me and safety.