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This article was written by DeltaStriker. Please do not add to this fiction without the writer's permission. |
| Trigger's Log | |
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| ERROR | |
| Setting | Slizer Planet |
| Date | 0 AM |
Trigger's Log is an unfinished fanfiction by DeltaStriker. It chronicles the trials that Blaster Slizer Trigger went through directly after the meteorite hit the Slizer Planet.
Story[]
Entry 1 - Awakening[]
I awoke with a pain in my back. I had no memory of who, what, or where I was. I was nobody.
I sat up, causing my back to hurt even more. I gasped at the pain. Whatever was causing this needed to be remedied. There were some medical supplies in my pack. I’d picked them up from a dead field medic during the Battle of Gazor Hill.
Wait, the Battle of Gazor Hill? Where did that come from?
I decided to ignore it and proceeded to dress my wound. Blood had begun to seep from it, though it appeared to have dried long ago. I decided not to dwell on that.
Once my back was sufficiently fixed up, I got to my feet, ignoring the pain, and explored my surroundings. I was in a grove of trees that had no apparent exit. The only things inside were myself, my pack, and my weapons.
I decided to take an inventory of my supplies. The weapons on the ground consisted of a Blaster and a bundle of disks. I counted thirteen of them, all apparently useless. I assumed they were meant to be thrown, but I had no idea how.
I removed my pack and surveyed its contents. I had the medical supplies, a small dagger, two wrapped parcels, and a bag stuffed with some sort of metal. I removed the bag from my pack and examined the metal more closely.
It appeared to be liquefied, but it was not hot. I find that odd, as liquid metals are often melted and hot to touch.
Wait, how did I know that?
I paused for a second to consider my situation. I awoke in a sealed grove of trees, with no memory of my life. I knew nothing except for the knowledge I possessed before whatever tragic accident knocked me unconscious and scattered names and places from my past.
I decided to seek out these names and places, in hopes that they would stir something deep within my mind, and let lose the reservoir of memories that the dam known as amnesia held back.
Amnesia? I know more than I thought I did.
I packed up my things and prepared to leave. As I strapped my pack to my back, I remembered the injury I had sustained before the accident. Unless the injury was the accident, and though I had no proof of this, it made some sense. One thing I did know was that I needed medical attention.
I pushed my way through the trees, once more ignoring the pain in my back. I needed to get out into the open and find a way to signal for help.
A minute later I pushed passed the last of the trees, and what I saw shocked me. The land outside of my grove was a barren wasteland. Trees were uprooted and strewn about, and rocks were scattered everywhere. But the worst part was the bodies. They were everywhere, in every possible position. They were dead, that much was obvious, but the looks on there faces were heartbreaking.
There were Micros and Slizers and wildlife, all lying there, all dead. The blood had dried long ago, but their expressions remained. They had died in agony, and unimaginable pain.
I quickly left the place, hoping to escape the carnage, but there was no end! The death and destruction went on and on. After hours of walking through the carnage I collapsed, unable to bear the growing pain in my back and the horror of what lay all around me. Then all became black.
When I awoke I lay in a hospital room, on some sort of a gurney. I attempted to sit up, but I was gently pushed pack down. I realized that my pack was gone, and that I was surrounded by red Micros in doctor’s uniforms. The white on red hurt my eyes, and I was forced to look at the ceiling instead. When that failed, I closed my eyes and hoped sleep would come easily.
Sleep refused to come, so I remained awake for the entire procedure. I felt repetitive pains in my back, pains which felt like a needle being driven through my back. When I asked a doctor about it, he told me that was exactly what they were doing.
When I was finally left alone, I got to my feet and searched the room I was in. My pack was in the corner, but my weapons were missing. I assumed they had been confiscated when I was brought into the hospital.
The rest of the room was bare, except for the gurney in its center, exposing the white walls and ceiling. After my initial examination of the room, I began a more complete search. I found nothing, of course, and decided instead to re examine the contents of my pack.
Nothing had been removed, and to my surprise, even the dagger remained untouched. I slipped the little weapon out of the pack and into a pouch on my belt. I then continued my examination. I came across one of the parcels. Feeling curious, I opened it up.
Inside I found a recorder, probably with a message. I decided to play it.
I pressed the ‘play’ button and a holographic image appeared above the recorder.
“Captain Trigger,” the image began. “Our forces at Gazor Hill have been overrun, and I need backup. You’re the last hope for the Alliance Trigger; you and Blaze Battalion. You need to infiltrate the Axis Base and destroy it at all costs. This is General Dynamo, out.”
I stared at the recorder, now without the hologram above it. This definitely explained some things, but also made more questions. Fortunately, I now knew my name was Trigger. I also knew that I was once a captain in the Alliance’s Army.
Alliance’s Army? The memory must have been triggered by the recording.
I continued to sift through the questions and answers I had required. I had been a part of an important mission, one which had probably failed. But if I wasn’t at Gazor Hill, then why did I remember getting the medical supplies there?
The door opened and I quickly shoved the recorder back into the pack and proceeded to toss the pack into the corner. The being that came into the room was red, taller than the Micro doctors. He was probably a Slizer.
The red Slizer approached me and sat down on the edge of the gurney.
“My name is Pyro,” the Slizer said. “And I have some questions I need to ask you. Are you ok with that?” I nodded. “Good. What’s your name?”
“Trigger,” I responded.
Pyro nodded calmly, but he appeared to be uneasy. “Where did you come from?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” I replied. “I woke up in a grove of trees with a wounded back. I fixed up my back and left the grove, only to find a disaster zone. I wandered around in that horrible place for hours until I blacked out.”
This seamed to make Pyro even more uneasy. Something about me was bothering him. “Where were you before you woke up in the grove of trees?”
“I don’t remember,” I said. I almost told him about the recording, but for some reason I held back. “All I remember is something about a Battle at Gazor Hill.”
At that Pyro lost it. He managed to keep his cool, but eagerly ran to the door and exited the room. I heard the door lock behind him.
For the next few days, I sat in that room. It was dull and boring, and, since Pyro’s interview, I was positive I was being watched. No one had entered the room, and I was terribly bored. My plan to attack then next being that entered was worthless, considering I was being isolated. I was being sustained by the strange liquid metal in the bag, but it didn’t taste very good. I dreaded when it was time to eat.
Finally, after what felt like a year of isolation, I was let out of the room. The Micro doctors removed the ‘stitches’, as they called them, from my back and told me I could go. As soon as I left the hospital, however, I was certain I was being tracked.
I pretended to be oblivious to my stalkers and explored the city. It was a marvelous work of art, and I almost didn't want to leave. But I knew what I had to do.
When I neared the city limits I prepared to make my move. My weapons had been restored to me as I left the hospital, and I readied them. As soon as the walls were in sight, I bolted. My pursuers charged after me, but I reached the wall and vaulted over it before they could run two yards. I was free.
I slowed to a walk as soon as the city disappeared behind me. There was no sense in wasting my energies now that I had escaped my pursuers. Walking across the lava plains, I began to wonder. Something about me had made Pyro worried. I needed answers, and the only place I was going to get them was obvious.
I needed to go to Gazor Hill.
Entry 2 - The Rising[]
TBW