The Star

Sep. 26th, 2011 08:34 pm
acts_of_gord: (Default)
[personal profile] acts_of_gord
The landing was as simple as a landing can get when there are enough sand-dwelling alien insects around to throw even the Combine off their pace. The slaughter of antlions was nothing short of amazing. There was a bull, too, but the less said about that the better- by the time it was dead they'd used up near all their medkits, and Sergeant-Major Shephard was quoting Milton through clenched teeth. Apparently he'd never seen a man finish off a fifteen-foot-long armored alien bug with the business end of a crowbar before.

Gordon will never in a million years admit that he caught himself enjoying that particular moment of insanity. At least, not to anyone else.

Anyway, the time of slaughtering bugs passed, and the time of sounding out the Combine presence in the area has also passed, because on the journey inland towards the location of the Gene Worm the advance force encountered a number of humans. None of them spoke much English, but they had enough German for Gordon to communicate with them. He didn't like the look he caught them exchanging with one another when he introduced himself. It wasn't quite the look he got in Seattle, but it was close enough...

And now that they've all been shepherded carefully and secretly to the local Resistance hideout, he's been asked to come and meet somebody. This, he isn't looking forward to.

Date: 2011-09-27 01:11 am (UTC)
smelltheashes: (Resistance)
From: [personal profile] smelltheashes
The scenery, at least, is familiar. Apparently there's some unwritten rule that every Resistance base must contain a certain number of narrow concrete corridors lit by flickering fluorescent lights. They finally come to a halt in front of a heavy door labeled 'PRIVATE - KEEP OUT' in three different languages.

Gordon's escort, a thirtysomething-but-looking-much-older Polish man named Janusz Prohaska, raps his knuckles lightly on the door.

"Who's there?" The voice from inside is male, and, surprisingly, has an American accent.

"Prohaska again. And I have 'Doctor Freeman' with me." Something in Janusz's tone implies air quotes.

Date: 2011-09-27 02:15 am (UTC)
smelltheashes: (...Gordon Freeman?)
From: [personal profile] smelltheashes
If Janusz heard that, he's got the good graces not to show it.

"Okay, bring him in," says the voice from inside.

Janusz nods and opens the door.

The space beyond is lined with weapons. There's really no other word for it. Whatever space isn't taken up by guns, grenades, or crowbars is covered with maps and notes. And in the heart of it all sits a man in his late forties, with glasses, a goatee, and a gray-and-yellow suit that bears a striking resemblance to Gordon's own.

"Gordon Freeman," says Janusz quietly, "permit me to introduce... Gordon Freeman."

Date: 2011-09-27 02:47 am (UTC)
smelltheashes: (...Gordon Freeman?)
From: [personal profile] smelltheashes
The man in the yellow HEV suit just gives Gordon a flat, stony glare.

Date: 2011-09-27 02:57 am (UTC)
smelltheashes: (...Gordon Freeman?)
From: [personal profile] smelltheashes
"Uh-huh. I'm sure you have." The man's tone suggests he doesn't believe it for a second.

Date: 2011-09-27 03:15 am (UTC)
smelltheashes: (...Gordon Freeman?)
From: [personal profile] smelltheashes
The man's frown deepens as he stares at Gordon. Then: "Prohaska, could you leave us alone for a minute? I need to have a... chat... with the good doctor here."

Date: 2011-09-27 03:23 am (UTC)
smelltheashes: (...Gordon Freeman?)
From: [personal profile] smelltheashes
The man in the yellow HEV suit crosses the room and latches a deadbolt on the inside of the door. He stands there for a moment, listening to Janusz's footsteps growing more and more distant, before turning back to Gordon.

"Okay." He pulls off the glasses and looks Gordon straight in the eye. "What's it gonna take to make this go away?"

Date: 2011-09-27 03:40 am (UTC)
smelltheashes: (...Gordon Freeman?)
From: [personal profile] smelltheashes
The man stares for a moment, then lets out a huff of incredulous laughter. "No, really. What do you want? Guns? Beer? Women? We can work something out, right?"

Date: 2011-09-27 03:54 am (UTC)
smelltheashes: (...Gordon Freeman?)
From: [personal profile] smelltheashes
"You can drop the act, okay? It's just the two of us. Nothing you say is going to leave this room," he says with a sweeping gesture. "Look. I understand you want to protect your reputation. So do I. So we're going to have to come to an arrangement, the two of us. One that keeps all of our people happy."

Date: 2011-09-27 04:06 am (UTC)
smelltheashes: (...Gordon Freeman?)
From: [personal profile] smelltheashes
...

Another huff of laughter. "Oh my God. Oh my God. You're actually serious, aren't you? You actually think you're the Gordon Freeman."

Date: 2011-09-27 04:11 am (UTC)
smelltheashes: (...Gordon Freeman?)
From: [personal profile] smelltheashes
He keeps on laughing, a high-pitched gurgling cackle. "You really--oh, man--" The man actually has to lean against the wall for support.

Date: 2011-09-27 04:16 am (UTC)
smelltheashes: (...Gordon Freeman?)
From: [personal profile] smelltheashes
He holds up his free hand in a 'give me a second' gesture. A few seconds later, the laughter finally subsides and he looks up. "Oh. Oh, my God." He wipes tears from the corners of his eyes. "You know, I've met some real wackjobs in the past ten years, but this? This takes the cake."

Date: 2011-09-27 04:27 am (UTC)
smelltheashes: (...Gordon Freeman?)
From: [personal profile] smelltheashes
"Annnd I can't let you do that," says the man seriously. "There's crazy, and then there's suicidal."

Date: 2011-09-27 04:44 am (UTC)
smelltheashes: (...Gordon Freeman?)
From: [personal profile] smelltheashes
"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you have," says not!Gordon dismissively; clearly he doesn't believe a word of this. "And what happens when the Combine get tired of you poking at them? I'll tell you what happens. They're going to poke back. With a finger big enough to squash you flat."

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Gordon Freeman

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