Subject: [FANFIC][Multi x-over][Grim] Armor Part 1 chapter 1
From: "Rabbit" <usagiyojimbo@mail.geocities.com>
Date: 11/1/1997, 3:18 PM
To: fanfic@fanfic.com

     This story is based off the novel 'Armor' and is used without 
his permission.  All character used herein are owned by thier 
respective owners and also used without permission.  Do not attempt 
to sue me as I have no money whatsoever and therefore be kind of 
pointless.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 1 

TTTTT  EEEE    N        N     CCCC    H      H    IIIIIII 
     T        E           N N    N     C            H      H        I 
     T        EEE      N    N  N    C            HHHH        I 
     T        E           N      NN    C            H      H        I
     T        EEEE    N        N     CCCC    H      H    IIIIIII
---------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1

        He sat by himself and drank.  This was kind of strange since
  he had no problem with people.  Come right down to it he liked 
  people and more recently had come to miss them somewhat.  He knew 
  that he had the type of personality that let him make friends 
  easily enough but yet here he was sitting alone drinking.  <Maybe 
  I'm just suffering from a bout of shyness> he thought to himself.  
  He then chuckled at his weak attempt at self-delusion.  He knew 
  exactly what it was.

        From his little nitch at the far end of the long bar, he
  observed everyone entering and leaving the very busy lounge 
  area.  He recognised a few from where he was trained.  Training is 
  where it had started manifest.  That is where he had started 
  feeling the odd sensation of mist decending upon him setting him 
  apart from all the others in the mess hall.  It was a dull 
  metaphysical type of shock at first, a reation welling up from the 
  very core of his being.  He had somehow felt....no, he had somehow 
  KNOWN that they were all going to die.

        He shook his head and finished off his drink.  If he was in
  the mood to be honest with himself he would have to admit to 
  himself that his  chances of survival were no better.  No better at 
all.......

        He paid the added credits for a full bottle as well as the
  little extra to take it out of the lounge area.  It was 
  absolutely against regs  on a battle cruiser to have a bottle in 
  one's possession outside the  designated area.  But on the eve of a 
  drop many many things were  possible.  As he noticed the hour of 
  the drop slowly creep nearer,  he noticed alot of his compatriarts 
  start taking thier boozing alot  more seriously.

        Outside the bar wasn't much better.  Plenty of bottles had
  been bribed out tonite.  While the ship waasn't one big blow 
  out, there were  enough small get togethers and enough crew 
  business going on to make  it almost impossible to find a nice 
  quiet spot to sit and ponder.   After a while he got into a flow of 
  drinking and hunting.

        After over an hour of walking the halls of the gargantuan ship
  he found  himself standing next to the center template strut in 
  Drop Bay Four.   Drop Bay Four was the largest room on board ship 
  and, since the  Nerima was largest warship, the most immense room 
  in space.  It was  two hundred meters long and eighty wide.  All 
  around him layed out  in checkerboard style where the sqares that 
  were the drop  assignments.  It was from here that everything 
  started. Many  thousands of men and women would de sent into battle 
  from this very  room .  The overhead was at least ten stories 
  above him and  cris-crossed with cranes that would lower the 
  instruments of war  into position.  <This is a hell of a large 
  room> he thought to  himself.  Bigger than the Great Hall back at 
  his second home.  He  remembered walking down the walkway, for the 
  corination, with  butterflys in his stomach and later when 
  he......<ENOUGH of this,>  he thought to himself <that's all behind 
  me now and far, far away.>

        He sighed and shook his head, as he pearched himself up on the
  center   strut.  He layed down on his back and tried to see the top 
  of the  bay and failed.  "Enough woolgathering" he said alout "time 
  to get  to some serious thinking,  time in fact really srcutinize 
  the  situation."  He took a hefty swig from the bottle and gave a 
  very  cynical laugh.  "Fact is we don't stand a snowballs chance in 
  hell."   Fact was that almost everyone in Fleet these days was a 
  rookie.  At  last count sixty percent and rising.  That meant six 
  months of  advanced training.  Nine months in the military all 
  together if you  were lucky.  Not much hope there.

        Still, the equipment was top notch and many were quite good
  with it.    He found out, much to his suprise, that he was naturaly 
  proficiant  with, of all things, the powered combat armor.  Most 
  people found  the power armor utterly alien and couldn't bring 
  themselfs to react  in a fairly normal way. But he, and a few 
  others, took to them  perfectly becoming the long sought after 
  combination of man and  machine working in perfect harmony.  <How 
  odd> he thought, <I that I  have such bizare gifts.  Me who has fit 
  all of Fleets hopes.....>.   And from there the drunken fog that 
  had settled upon him caused his  thoughts to slip back into the 
  past like it does with most drunken,  terrifed humans.  He layed 
  back on the template strut, stared at the  cranes above him, lit a 
  cigerete, and steadily sipped from his  bottle.  He feared. The 
  hours passed.

        Lovers in the nooks and nitches surrounding the outer
  perimiter of the  drop bay took advantage of the sexually 
  intergrated warrior class.   They moaned, groaned and grasped at 
  each other.  It was a passionate  if unorganised effort by each of 
  them to push the tension strung  present into the unimaginably 
  horror filled future.  After a while  they would take a break from 
  thier labor, light the last of thier  smokes, and drink the last of 
  thier drinks.  And before thier  thoughts turned inwards upon 
  themselves each and all noticed the  glow of a cigerete ember 
  coming from the lone figure laying on the  center strut in the 
  middle of the vastness of Drop Bay Four.  They  would then wonder 
  what in the bloody hell he was doing there.

        Tenchi alone, and unaware of anyone else or thier curiosity,
  wondered the very same thing.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
AUTHORS NOTES

      Hello again to all those in Fanfic land.  Just a quick status 
note.  Washu's New boyfriend chapter 4 is undergoing a rewrite as I 
had a brainstorm while conversing with PMasters <oh by the way I love 
the shorts you just put out ^_^ >  As I stated in the opening I'm 
basing this story very closely to John Steakley's book Armor.  For 
those of you not familiar with the book it's like Starship troopers 
(the book not the movie) and is a WHOLE lot more grim.  There will be 
2 parts with the first part having apoximately 18 chapters.  I'm 
still figuring out how to divide up part 2 as it's larger than part 
1.  Sorry there's no action in this first chapter but it's setting 
the mood for the rest of the story.  Things will pick up from here 
slowly but surely (I promise).  Of course all C&C is welcome as it 
help to improve my writing style and of course catch spelling errors 
and such.
---------------------------------------------------------------------

Power corrupts.
Absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Petty power corrupts all out of proportion to actual power.