Fart Vader’s Past
Chapter One, The Dust Storm.
5 Years before joining eGO
In an unknown location in an unknown world, there lies the land of de_dust2, a perplexing place that is plagued by constant sand storms and Terrorist forces. One such storm was going on now, and in it stood Him. His powerful frame of his body was complemented by the vast size of the weapon he held in his hands, an Arctic Winter Magnum, commonly called an AWP. The clothes he wore were a greenish-blue and bore the logo SEAL-6 on his left sleeve.
His goggles were down over his eyes as he looked out into the sandstorm, the particles smashing against him and bouncing off harmlessly. He didn’t seem to care that he couldn’t see one metre ahead of him; he could navigate the place blindfolded anyway. A sudden shadow appeared in the sandstorm in front of him, a vague human shape. He blinked, and it was gone. He brought up the firearm and pointed it around himself, unsure if he was about to be ambushed.
After a few tense moments he lowered it and turned to head back to camp, it would be a long day tomorrow and he would need the rest. There was the sound of sand shifting behind him, he bolted around and heard the scream of a bullet fly by the side of his head with the clear sound of a Galil being fired. He dived away; at close ranges the Galils fast fire rate can rip a man in two. He fired vaguely in the direction of the attacker, hearing a yell and a thud on the sand. He slowly got back up, slightly shaken by the event.
The sound of running came behind him, and then a Terrorist brandishing a knife threw himself at him, swinging the knife towards his chest. Fart Vader knew what to do; he pushed the side of the firearm into the man, pushing him over onto the floor. He quickly stood on the hand holding the knife, kicking it away once the man dropped it in pain. He crouched down and leaned over the man, pulling a GPS off his belt.
“Have fun finding your way back in this. “ Fart Vader told him as he pointed to the GPS “Without your fancy toy here, I doubt you’re going to make it. If you do, tell your leaders to give up on this place.”
He threw the GPS down and crushed it under his heel, destroying the electronic mechanisms inside it, and then he walked away from the dismayed man. He strode his way back towards camp, maybe watched, but not disturbed.
Chapter 2, Brother
Over at camp it was typically relaxed, it was pretty much hanging around until the next day and having someone keep watch. A fire was in the middle, and Fart Vader’s squad were scattered around it, chattering about their latest encounters and close-calls. It surely was not long before Fart Vader’s story of the day crept into the conversation.
“TWO of them? At close range!” Exclaimed one of his squadron, a private first class by the name of Baneling. “Bloody hell, I don’t know how you do it with a sniper rifle, it’s not human!”
Off went much more bickering and chattering after his exclamation, including some thought on how he came to have this remarkable skill. The conversation was cheery and light hearted. For now, it was an escape from the hellish war with the terrorist forces that they seemed to be in.
A faint shadow caught Fart Vader’s eye, it moved around the very edge of the light that the fire was generating. It was rather odd, so he quickly pulled out his USP 45 sidearm and pointed it at the location where the shadow caster would be.
“Show yourself!” He yelled out into the darkness, hearing a manic laugh soon after as a dark figure stepped into the light.
“Did you miss me?” The dark figure said, his face covered by a balaclava and dark sunglasses. “I thought you’d be more welcoming to your brother.”
Stares were cast upon this stranger who claimed to be the brother of Fart Vader. He was wearing a large jacket and appeared to be overweight. He unzipped his jacket and opened it up to show many weapons holstered inside it; giving the impression that he had an obese structure. He took out a cigarette packet, pulling out a single cigarette and lighting it, taking in a puff of smoke before facing Fart Vader.
“Well, didn’t you tell them about me?” He spoke with smoke coming out of his mouth and nose; it was a devilish sight as he faced the men. “To answer your questions, we were trained by our parents when we were young, to be assassins you see. However… my brother took a much more disappointing route.”
“Tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you where you stand!” Fart Vader yelled out at him, aiming the USP 45 at his face.
In a blur of movement a shot was fired, and then there was silence.
Fart Vader looked at his hand to see his weapon no longer in it; he looked up to see his brother brandishing a Desert Eagle with perfect precision at where it used to be. When he looked at the floor he saw the USP ruined with a bullet in it. The shock of this stunned Fart Vader, he had not known that such speed and precision could be possible in a situation.
“Beware tomorrow, brother, I will only warn you this once.” He called out at the stunned Fart Vader. “Tomorrow I will come to this place, with an army, for your own sake take yourself and your men out of here. Don’t try to be a hero.”
A grenade was dropped and the men darted for cover, then the sound of smoke hissed from it, allowing the men to breathe a sigh of relief. The smoke was blown over the campfire, strangling it and putting it out. They were left in darkness.
Chapter 3, Leaving?
The next morning the men were already packing their things and getting ready to leave. There was a helicopter coming in soon which would quickly evacuate them from the area, there was no point putting them up against a force they could not win. The reason that they were situated at this dusty, barren location was for the chemical weapon stashes. If they were destroyed then millions of dollars of damage would affect the surrounding area, making it inhospitable for years. It was guessed that anything within a 1 mile radius would be covered in the deadly chemicals that were contained within the stashes.
There was also talk of a nuclear device, so the soldiers were not at ease as they considered the prospect of leaving the place to be attacked by terrorist forces. It had to be done; staying here while multiple terrorists attacked would be suicide, especially if Fart Vader’s brother was leading them. There was genuine fear in their eyes, both of the consequences of leaving and what would happen if they stayed behind.
An hour passed and the men stood silent and resolute as the helicopter flew in from being a speck in the distance. Dust spiralled and then blew away from them as the blades powered down air onto them. The helicopter landed shortly after, the blades now visible as they slowed down. One of the side doors was pulled open by a soldier inside, who motioned for them to get in. One by one they clambered into the vehicle and the door slammed shut.
The blades began to spin into a blur again and lifted off the ground, beginning to take the soldiers to safety.
“I can’t let them do this… don’t come after me.” Fart Vader said suddenly, jumping up and swinging the door open, jumping out and rolling on the dusty floor.
The helicopter rose quickly, too high for the rest of them to safely jump out, Fart Vader was left alone to face those who opposed him. He took off his goggles and looked at the dusty area ahead of him; he loaded a magazine into his M4A1 assault rifle, and began to stride towards the chemical weapon cache.
He looked at the wall where they had previously marked the spot as B with a red spray paint can earlier. They would come here as it had the largest chemical weapon storage, location A had only a quarter of B’s chemical weapons. He took out some string and tape from his backpack and set to work. On the exit of the tunnels he taped two grenades on either side then tied the two pins together with string, a tripwire trap.
He heaved a couple of the boxes to give himself enough cover and held a smoke grenade in his hands, ready. They would be here any minute, so he had to hurry. He checked the ammunition on his Desert Eagle and then turned the safety latches off on all his firearms; he crouched behind the boxes with the smoke grenade in hand, waiting for any sound. There were faint footsteps from the inside of the tunnel and faint muttering.
“It’s clear, move out!” Yelled a large, bear-like terrorist, clearly using fear to control his men.
Three terrorists led the way, running right into the tripwire, there was the sound of the pins unlatching and hitting the floor, and their eyes darted to it and went wide. There was a colossal BANG as the soldiers were engulfed in the explosion, immediately alerting Fart Vader. He jumped up and threw the smoke grenade over the box that he was hiding behind, quickly pulling out his M4A1 as it ricocheted towards the terrorists.
Bump, the grenade bounced and the M4A1 fire started, darting between targets and grabbing a headshot. Boing, the grenade bounced again and several terrorists dropped to the sandy ground as they were hit. Pssssst, the grenade let out its smoke and Fart Vader sprayed the remainder of his clip into the smoke ahead of him. Fart Vader quickly leaped over the box and into the smoke, swapping to his trusty Desert Eagle.
It was hard to see within the smoke, you could only make out vague shapes that were about a metre in front of you, but that was all he needed. He fired time after time again, each bullet a single kill, and then staying still as the smoke cleared. When it did clear, he quickly found that the bear-like terrorist was right in front of him; he quickly tried to raise his pistol and fire in vain. The terrorist swung his meaty fist at him and knocked the gun clean out of his hand, leaving him in melee combat with a giant.
He backed away slowly, drawing his knife out as the terrorist advanced, causing the earth to shake and move as he got ever closer. Fart Vader then quickly dived towards him with the knife, sticking it in the terrorist’s chest. It had little effect; the terrorist pulled out the blade and then crushed it in his hand, pulling back his arm to crush Fart Vader with a final blow.
There was a loud bang, and the terrorist started to sway back and forth, like he was dizzy. His eyes rolled back and then he fell backwards, allowing Fart Vader to look past where the man had once been. Standing there was a figure brandishing a FAMAS.
“Private First Class Baneling reporting, sir!” He called out to him, grinning as the rest of the team appeared through the wooden doors at the side of the location.
“I thought you left!” Fart Vader answered back in surprise.
“Ah, you think we’d leave you here alone, hell no! Now let’s show these terrorists what they get for messing with us.” He chuckled back at him.
“That was only a scout squadron… there will be another squad coming, and they will be much more brutal than these…” Fart Vader gave them the bad news.
“So? Guess it’s going to be fun, eh?” Ended Baneling, not dismayed in the slightest as he threw Fart Vader an AWP. “I brought your favourite with us too”
Chapter 4, Into the Jaws of Death
With the squad reunited, they took their respective positions inside the location, Fart Vader stood at the back, scoped in silently with his AWP while the rest of them held their large weapons ready and excited. The sound of mass footsteps came from outside the wooden doors and from inside the tunnel, Fart Vader gestured to his men to get their frag grenades ready. They grabbed hold of them and pulled out the pins.
The first line of terrorists ran through, right into a team of counter-terrorists throwing frag grenades in their faces. The explosions went off, taking the front line apart. Within seconds the men had their guns out and were firing with vague precision at the masses of enemies coming into their sights. There didn’t seem to be an end to them, so it was jolly good look that two of them were holding M249 Machine Guns, which had 100 round clips that tore through the enemy waves.
Suddenly there was a yell from one of his squad and Fart Vader bolted round to see his brother knocking out one of his men wielding a machine gun. Fart Vader quickly ran at him, bringing out his desert eagle and firing multiple times as his brother ran past, barely dodging the rounds. A yell of pain told him one of his squad was hit by the attackers.
Fart Vader scrambled after his brother, backing him into a dead end outside of B, it seemed like he would trap him, but his brother kept on running. His brother jumped onto the wall, running up it for two steps and flipping backwards, drawing out dual elites and firing them at Fart Vader. He quickly took action and stepped towards the elites, staying close so it would be difficult to aim them at him as he attempted to disarm his brother.
He grabbed a hold of one of the guns and twisted it behind his brothers’ back, only to have the other one levelled at his face, forcing him to let go and dive out of the way. His brother pulled out a serrated edge knife and charged at him, forcing him to dodge out of the way in fear of getting cut. He quickly hit the underside of his brothers’ wrist, causing an automatic reaction that made his hand open and drop the knife. Within seconds he had the knife in his hand and plunged it towards his brothers’ chest.
His brother was pushed against the wall, but the knife did not stick into him, he gasped, having lost his wind. It then occurred to Fart Vader that he was wearing a Kevlar vest, which is incredibly hard to stab as it is five times stronger than steel. He punched his brother in the face, making him slump to the floor.
“That’s for leaving me.” He then kicked him in the side of the head, knocking him out. “And that’s for trying to kill me and my squad.”
He then unzipped his brothers’ jacket and removed an AK47 from his back, finding it fully loaded. He flipped off the safety and darted back to help his squad, leaping in between the wooden doors and levelling his AK47 at the terrorists that were running through the tunnel entrance at him. He then made a note in his mind of where each terrorist was and what height they were instantly, then pulled the trigger once for each terrorist, going from left to right. Each bullet landing a perfect headshot on the terrorists, leaving only silence afterwards. That silence was glorious, for it held victory inside it.
Chapter 5, Aftermath
Several Years Later
In a small pub somewhere in the USA, there was a delightful man by the name of Quaffer, he was well known around those parts for being well spoken and able to inspire meaning into those who come looking for it. He sat talking to someone who had on that day asked him a question, and being a prestigious gentleman, he answered it. But then came the next question which made him think quite deeply.
“Who is Fart Vader, anyway?” Asked the stranger, looking behind himself at Fart Vader who was relaxing.
“Ah, it is a long story, but a rather exciting one, are you sure you want to hear it?” Answered Quaffer, pondering on who this stranger was and why he was so interested.
“Well, it’d be rather nice if you did tell me it.” Said the stranger, genuinely curious about the person.
“Let me think…” Said Quaffer, finally realising who this stranger was. He was a rather nice fellow he had met a few days earlier by the name of ‘Eurocracy’ “Ah, I remember now!”
“In an unknown location in an unknown world, there lies the land of de_dust2…”
