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Genre: Science Fiction
About major cobaltLocation: Newnan, Georgia Home Region: Age:17 Favorite novels: The Hot Zone, Harry Potter, Artemis Fowl, World War Z Favorite writers: J.K. Rowling, Eoin Colfier, Max Brooks Favorite music: Sonata Arctica, Metallica, Nightwish, Lacuna Coil Non-noveling interests: JROTC, gaming, summer camp, |
Joined: November 6, 2008 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 20 NaNoWriMo buddies: 4
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Brief Author Bio: I'm a writer, plain and simple. I'm not a professional, and I don't plan on being one. I'm a fan of sci-fi, historical fiction, prophetic/religious fiction, and anything with an insider's view. This is my second year doing NaNoWriMo, though I failed last year because I started late and, frankly, my enthusiasm was elsewhere, though I don't know where. |
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Synopsis: SS13: Secret 74
To the crew, it was a home, a career, and a future. To the world, it was promise of a better tomorrow. To NanoTrasen, it was a disaster waiting to happen. Aboard Space Station 13 was a secret--a secret that would get people hurt, killed, captured, and tortured. When the Syndicate attempted to take Project 74 right from under NanoTrasen's nose, the future of interstellar research hung in the balance. A political and militant struggle began that spanned the galaxy and threatened to destroy a hundred years worth of scientific advancements. Can the crew of SS13 hold off the Syndicate long enough for help to arrive, or will NanoTrasen be too late, and lose control of their vital bio-medical station?
Excerpt: SS13: Secret 74
Two rounds hit the bulkhead with a ping! ping! Scott ducked behind a metal table and winced at the sound of the .357 Magnums going off. He peered over the edge of the turned-over table at the black-armored agents sprinting down the hallway. They were too preoccupied with chasing after more desirable targets to search for a station technician such as Scott.
Of course, had they known what he was wielding, they would have gunned him down as soon as possible. Scott drew a Syndicate .357 from inside his jumpsuit and leapt from behind his makeshift cover. He’d never in his life fired anything more powerful than an air rifle, but hoped that his adrenaline high would make up for the lack of experience.
About twenty feet down the hall a Syndicate agent was standing at the ready right outside the toxins lab. Three shots had just gone off inside, which meant that Dr. Reyes hadn’t thought it necessary to leave his lab. The agent outside, Scott could tell, was laughing at whatever was going on inside. There were no voices, so he didn’t know what the agent was laughing at. He didn’t need to know. He raised the pistol and squeezed off a single round. It caught the agent right in the neck below where his helmet ended and right above where is armor began. He collapsed to the ground without a word.
As was to be expected, the two agents inside the lab rushed out. When they faced his direction, Scott fired two more rounds. The visors of their helmets were up and the bullets hit them square in their faces. They collapsed to the ground, on top of their fallen colleague. Scott released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and thanked God for three lucky shots in a row.
He was about to turn around he felt something bite him in the lower back. A second after he felt the gunshot, he heard it. His vision blackened and he collapsed to the ground in a pool of blood, the gun falling from his hand and clattering to the cold steel floor.
“It’s a shame, losing three men to a station tech,” the agent said with a frown...
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