SURVIVAL:chapter 5
Thursday, June 7, 2007

The last of the chapters in my Survival series that I have already written everything after this one will be fresh off the word processor. Warning: one paragraph contains particularly violent death.


Steve saw him first. A single man riding fast towards them. Jayne saw him too. Guesturing at the rifle stock, Jayne blurted out “wish we had the rest of the rifle.” Steve looked over at what he was talking about when something that had been nagging at him since the crash finally clicked into place in his mind when he saw the lack of screws in the synthetic rifle stock. “Jayne, give me my gun.” “What’er ya talkin’ ‘bout, it’s right there on ya’r belt.” “No, the rifle stock.” Jayne handed the man the rifle stock and was amazed when Steve removed the butt of the stock and pulled out a barrel, scope, receiver and two magazines and a small gas cartridge. It didn’t take very long to assemble the gun. The receiver plugged into the stock and the barrel into the receiver. He took an additional .22 long rifle round out of the rear peep-sight and chambered it before inserting one of the magazines. Transformed from a useless rifle stock to a well oiled metal delivery system, a Henry Survival Rifle. This one was custom made for Roberts needs as a scout on the battlefield. There had been additional holes made in the stock to accommodate a small scope and what looked like a small propane cartridge with valve. The propane unit was his own invention, a “super-charger”. Hidden just bellow the bolt on the receiver was a small knob, another custom feature, which was used in conjunction with the super charger to flood the chamber behind the with propane bullet, increasing the speed of the projectile to somewhere just north of “most likely lethal if you take the time to aim carefully”. Steve looked through the scope at the man riding towards them, and recognized him not by appearance or facial features, but by the gun he wore on a sling over his shoulder. The thug dismounted. Centering his crosshairs over the man’s left eye, Steve rotated a small dial on the super charger until the small window on the dial was over a single white dot, the lowest setting. As he pulled the trigger back the super charger made a small hiss, filling the chamber with explosive propane, propelling the deadly piece of red hot metal on it’s lethal path. Finding the man’s eye, the bullet penetrated just bellow the pupil and allitle to the right, never once hitting the white of the eye. Shatering the thin layer of bone separating the eye from the brain, the bullet mushroomed and shredded the frontal lobe in the process. Forcefully pushing on, the small piece of copper plated lead blew the back of the man’s head off, filling the air around the base of the man’s back in a bloody mist, bits of smoldering flesh falling to the ground. The shock wave produced by the bullet reduced the inside of the man’s right eye to jell, while the sudden impact forced more blood and fluid into the organ, causing it to burst open. Jolting his head, the same hydraulic shock burst every blood vessel in his brain, liquefying the parts of brain around the bullets path. The man was dead, in more ways than one, before he hit the ground. Afew minutes later the four stranded space cowboys approached what had once resembled a person. Simon looked at the grotesge scene with something between revultion and nasue. Jayne took the corpses six-shooter, an old black powder 1851 U.S. Navy Marshal pistol while Steve took the desperados Thompson single shot rifle for himself, and handed his .22 to Wash, telling him, “That .380 doesn’t have great accuracy at long distances. This won’t have tons of power, but it’s lethal, and the supercharger adds some speed to it. Plus, you can actually hit a target more than 15 feet away.” Jayne looked more than a little confused as to why Roberts got to keep the Thompson. When he pressed the issue the only answer he got was that the gun had originally belonged to Roberts until the outlaw had taken it from him in the little skirmish on the last job they took. After searching the corpsified bandit, they found some more ammunition, and a small single shot pistol, but nothing else of value. Cutting a piece of cloth from the man’s breaches, Steve fashioned a makeshift sling for his new rifle, checked his new single shot pistol, and led the three other castaways deeper into the forest, intent on finding a suitable place to make there last stand. Jayne lingered back, he wanted to have a quick word with simon and the pilot. “Hey, you guys think that ther’ some’at ‘bout his past that he ain’t letin’ us in on? Like somthin’ bout the War” the Merc asked. Simon stopped to ponder this for a while but Wash seemed flustered and hurried to catch up with the rifle toting survivor leading the group, stammering a sentence that sounded like “Why would he have anything to hide. We don’t have anything to hide. Neither does he” “Uh, doc, you think theres some sorta history were missin’” “I honestly don’t know”


I tried to be more subtle, but it's not one of my strong points. I don;t know when I'll post more, probably not for a while, So I guess you lott are all off the hook;)

Also, I am sincerely sorry if my poor writing style, awful spelling, or anything else caused some to be violently ill.


Friday, June 8, 2007 8:34 AM


Uh...would even a Rimworld asshat like the guy Steve just shot really use a black powder - black powder! - revolver? Would be all kinds of inaccurate less you're close enough to spit;)

And and AgentOmega need to team up to develop ideas for cool-ass weaponry. Between your "supercharged" .22 rifle and his two would be lethal on a literary battlefield;)


Friday, June 8, 2007 9:00 AM


Thanks, and you are absolutely right, you would have to be close enough to spit to be able to hit your mark. But if you think about it, thats what a handgun is for, shooting multiple guys at close range. for longer range, the hoondan had a large bore rifle. I also didn't want to give him too much good stuf, becouse then our BDHs wouldn't be able to make a spectacular last stand, and yes, Mal will play a big part in the last stand

Also, the theory on the blackpowder is that a revolver is simple, if you pull the trigger and there's no bang, you just pull the hammer back and shoot again. It's possible to make gunpowder, but a lot harder to make an actual cartidge without the brass casing. this way, if you lose your powder the gun isn't completely useless.

And thanks for refering to the weapons as "Cool-ass". One of these days I'm going to figure out mall's gun, and when I do I'll share the idea, in the form of Mal thinking about the gun and all hes been through with it


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SURVIVAL:chapter 7: Good Times
As the BDHs come to the rescue, Mal ponders his life on Serenity, and thinks back on his teenage years, kindof

SURVIVAL:chapter 6: Mals speach
This was something that was suposed to go in between chapters 4 and five, It contains Mal's monolog that I promised, sorry If It left anyone in the dark, although now that I think about it, its better after chapter five. I'm using a techniqe often used by marty feldman, can any body guess what it is?

SURVIVAL:chapter 5
The last of the chapters in my Survival series that I have already written everything after this one will be fresh off the word processor. Warning: one paragraph contains particularly violent death.

SURVIVAL:chapter 4: Fun in the Woods
Theres nothing like a camping trip, albiet a camping trip with the very real threat of being shot, for male bonding, which is exactly what Simon, Jayne and Wash are in need of. Also, Mal does a fly by and Steve has some good news, kind of.

SURVIVAL:chapter 3: First Meetings
The crew start to get woried, and think back on the day that Steve Roberts entered thier lives

SURVIVAL:chapter 2: the plot thickens
Jobs gone south and now Jayne, Wash, Simon, and Steve(the new guy) have boatload of trouble with noplace to make port.

SURVIVAL:chapter 1
When Wash, Simon, Jayne, and relitively new crewman Steve Roberts go on a job, they get more than they bargained for. Alot more.