The Mini-burger

FanFic in the Birmoverse

A Walk in The Woods – by Savo WW-ZE

Our/my memories were vague, broken.  There was so much, so many of them but so little I could understand. 

 

 

Only hunger remained.

 

Continue reading

26 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning, Zombie Escapades | 2 Comments

Coming Home – Without Warning FanFic by Stephen Francis Murphy

            “This is the last stop, Specialist,” the African American driver, an above the elbow amp, said.  “Sure you want to walk the rest of the way?”

            Bobby Wilder, still in his desert fatigues, nodded.  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.  Just a couple of miles.”

            “I’d take you there but the roads aren’t clear and they watch my mileage pretty closely,” the driver said.  “Fuel ain’t that hard to come by but they watch it anyway.”

            “They’re more concerned about wear and tear on the bus I suspect,” Wilder said, with a sixteen in one hand and his ruck in the other.  “Thanks for the lift.  When will you be back through here?”

            “Same time tomorrow.  Got some homesteaders here in Northtown and the work details down in the rail yards.  There are some folks up at Cerner and the hospital as well.  They keep me pretty busy,” the driver said.  “Rule of thumb is around noon or so.”

            Wilder nodded.  “Noon it is.  Thanks.”

Continue reading

16 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | 8 Comments

New Order – by Havock

For Sergeant Major Bo Jaason the retreat and subsequent sea journey from Kuwait had been nothing short of a nightmare. The organizational process of withdrawing as a result of the wave had been littered with disaster after disaster, catastrophe was more the word he thought, and they’d lost no fewer than 50% of the ships which had set out. A combination of missile attacks, suicide boats and a single stray Iranian Tango class sub had played bloody hell with the fleets departure in the confined waters of the Gulf, seemed every rag headed, religious nut job had come out to have a crack at the US and its allies.

  Continue reading

16 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | 4 Comments

The Falcon Masters – by Stephen Francis Murphy

The Falcon Masters – – Without Warning Fan Fiction
By Steven Francis Murphy

Snow covered the empty plains of the American Midwest, the bleak sun peering down through a clear grey blue sky down upon the bones of empire. Tufts of fine grass, waist high reached up, shifting with the Siberian express blowing hard across Kansas and over the river into Missouri. No rabbits scurried to evade the nimble fox, the eager wolf or the cagey farm dog. Huddles of cattle were nowhere to be found either. Rusting farm machines covered in snow and dirt sank on deflated tires into the soil. A windmill spun crazy lazy on a busted pivot, betraying the wind’s true direction, creaking in the empty air, joined only by the sound of turbine thunder roaring far above a land orphaned in the blink of an eye by the hand of fate.

Continue reading

15 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | 3 Comments

Par Ardua ad Astra by DrunkenWombat

 

October 23rd 1946.

Kapustin Yar Test Range, USSR

 

 

Stalin removed the pipe from his mouth.

“Well Comrade Korolev, it looks like I won’t have to send you back to the Gulag after all. Your rockets will keep those American bastards in line! And you are sure it can hit Washington, all the way from the Motherland?”

Sergei Korolev, the Soviet Chief Rocket Designer’s ears were still ringing from the launch of the Cossack I rocket 45 minutes earlier.

“Indeed Premier Stalin. And with a far greater accuracy than anticipated. We can put the atomic warhead right in Roosevelts tea cup!”

 

In his hand on the screen of the flexipad was the range data from the launch.  The payload had landed less than a kilometre from its target on the north most Island of Japan.

Continue reading

14 March, 2009 Posted by | Axis of Time | Leave a comment

The Right to Bear Arms – by Drej

The Right to Bear Arms

 

The line waiting to enter the Bungalow Bar in central Whangarei was not as long as usual, partly due to the cold and plenty due to the economic recession gripping the world. But to 19 year old Robbie Kahui, the din of voices raised to counter the ever present doof-doof music within was testament to the fact that no matter the state of the world, people still sought to drown their uncertainties in increasingly expensive liquor to preserve the illusion, at least, of a “good time”.

Continue reading

14 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | 1 Comment

Why – by NoWhereBob

The old man said nothing, as was his way. With a flick of the wrist he threw the last of his tea into the smoking embers of last nights fire, stood with popping joints and creaking tendons and walked towards the stock horses. He took no joy from what he had started, perhaps a grim sliver of satisfaction, knowing that a terrible wrong was to be righted. Last night in a special place he had sung the songs to summon his ancestors, he had sought their counsel and with their help he had sung the death of America.

Continue reading

14 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | 2 Comments

Sur la Plage Part 1: Insertion by Chaz

Sur la Plage

Part 1: Insertion

 

April 2003

 

The camouflaged AS532 Cougar scudded low over the acid rain bleached fields bordering the Loire estuary. Nantes smoke blackened skyline faded into the springs early dusk. Normally at this time of year the evening would be warm and long. Now the ever present thick poisonous cloud cover cast an overbearing pall over the countryside.

Continue reading

13 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | 2 Comments

Lootin’ Schmootin’ – by NoWhereBob

He slipped over a fence and into a new overgrown yard. A year’s tall dead grass partly hid a kids play gym. He moved towards a back deck listening intently and watching the house for movement. Yesterday he had heard a helicopter in the distance, probably the army. But it was a week since he’d spoken to anyone. A week since the Chechens had killed Dan.

Continue reading

13 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | Leave a comment

The Disappearance + 1 month by tonick175

Disappearance + 1 Month

 

Australia , Northern Territory Coastline – 0250H

 

   “Here they come”. The dull hum of the thermal imaging camera was now a constant reminder of their now familiar nightly routine. And its images told of another busy night ahead.  “I’ve got 12, no make that 15 craft running line astern, about 200m apart, heading is on bearing 185, with no lights visible. They’re running blind”.  Sergeant Peter Anders pulled back from the eyepiece and rolled his neck left to right, sweat running down the middle of his back. He had, up till recently come to accept that his job was, realistically, defunct. But that was before “the Wave” and, it seems, the vaporizing of what was the population of mainland United States .

Continue reading

13 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | Leave a comment

Murphy’s Law – by Guru Bob

Murph’s law

The camouflaged figure crouched low in the bushes and scanned the blackness ahead of him along the barrel of his rifle. Suddenly there was scurrying movement ahead of him and then two low slung figures bounded away through the long grass towards the treeline.

Continue reading

13 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | 2 Comments

Mr Singh – BobNoWhere

Mr Singh smiled as he watched one of his herds. The tall man in a turban, check shirt and blue jeans sat comfortably in the saddle. For the first time in a many long days he had allowed himself to leave the armies of problems to rage and gibber in his e-mail inbox. True it was to deal in person with yet another problem with the new slaughterhouse, but at least he was away from the desk in daylight and out on his horse.

  Continue reading

12 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | 2 Comments

Payback – By Jose J. Clavell

Payback
A Without Warning Fanfic
By Jose J. Clavell

Over the Caribbean Sea

Manuel Figueroa tried to ignore the numbers blinking in his head-up display and the occasional mutterings of Bitching Bettie as the female voice forcefully reminded him that a moment of inattention, or even a sneeze, could cause he and his Fighting Falcon to join the submarine service, permanently. Buying the farm that way would be terribly sucky after surviving the Iraq invasion, the unexpected furball with Iran, the second use of atomic weapons and the first nuclear war in history. That would definitively have pissed him off and greatly disappointed his legion of female fans.
Life had been relatively good since the American forces left the Middle East to their own devices and, in the case of his wing, moved back to sunny Puerto Rico. It had been extremely good for him because, unlike the majority of his mainlander brothers and sisters-in-arms, he had his grandparents and a good portion of his family still living on the island.
Continue reading

11 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | 1 Comment

Again – A Without Warning Fanfic By sibeen (Joe Devlin)

He clambered out of the fog of sleep and glanced at the bedside clock.

“Shit, 3:14”, what the hell was he doing awake, especially after the strenuous activities earlier in the night. He rolled over and looked at his bed partner. “Coleen,” no wait, that was last week…Monica… Monica, yeah that was it. He grinned to himself and thought about giving Monica a quiet nudge; “for a short, balding lawyer of Greek and Irish extraction you don’t do too bad, do you old son?”

Continue reading

10 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | 4 Comments

Rhino Pr0n – by NoWhereBob

0400 Wheelhouse of MV Aussie Rules.

 

The Rhino was deliberately waiting before he got his next cup of coffee and a new cigar. He was well aware of the rapidly diminishing supply of both. To find something to do he tweaked the sea clutter up a touch on the RADAR. He snorted “Damned thing’ll acquire, plot & lay off a course & speed for a new target before I even know it’s there.” While the old days had required more skill, more knowledge, a more intuitive touch, there certainly was something to be said for the new whizz-bangery of integrated GPS Chart Plotters & RADAR with ARPA. He drew some comfort from the knowledge that he could go back to the old technology, where as the under 30 pussies couldn’t find their own ass without GPS. He settled his ass back into the gas lift helm chair, which despite being designed by some softcock interior designer and trimmed in white leather, the Rhino had to admit it was a thing of great comfort.

His mental background chatter stopped short as he sensed someone coming up the stairwell. Fifi, wrapped in a blanket, padded to beside his helm chair.

Continue reading

10 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | 2 Comments

Rhino furry

0400 Wheelhouse of MV Aussie Rules.

 

 

The Rhino was deliberately waiting before he got his next cup of coffee and a new cigar. He was well aware of the rapidly diminishing supply of both. To find something to do he tweaked the sea clutter up a touch on the RADAR. He snorted “Damned thing’ll acquire, plot & lay off a course & speed for a new target before I even know it’s there.” While the old days had required more skill, more knowledge, a more intuitive touch, there certainly was something to be said for the new whizz-bangery of integrated GPS Chart Plotters & RADAR with ARPA. He drew some comfort from the knowledge that he could go back to the old technology, where as the under 10 pussies couldn’t find their own ass or donkey without GPS. He settled his leathery grey rump back into the gas lift helm chair, which despite being designed by some softcockerel interior designer and trimmed in white vinyl , the Rhino had to admit it was a thing of great comfort.

Continue reading

10 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | Leave a comment

Rhino /

0400 Wheelhouse of MV Aussie Rules.

 

 

The Rhino was deliberately waiting before he got his next cup of coffee and a new cigar. He was well aware of the rapidly diminishing supply of both. To find something to do he tweaked the sea clutter up a touch on the RADAR. He snorted “Damned thing’ll acquire, plot & lay off a course & speed for a new target before I even know it’s there.”

While the old days had required more skill, more knowledge, a more intuitive touch, there certainly was something to be said for the new whizz-bangery of integrated GPS Chart Plotters & RADAR with ARPA. He drew some comfort from the knowledge that he could go back to the old technology, where as the under 30 pussies couldn’t find their own ass without GPS. He settled his ass back into the gas lift helm chair, which despite being designed by some softcock interior designer and trimmed in white leather, the Rhino had to admit it was a thing of great comfort.

  Continue reading

10 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | Leave a comment

Welcome to The Mini-Burger – Fan Fic in the Birmoverse.

Just a quick repast on what we are doing here. This is the repository for fanfic relating to John Birmingham’s Axis of Time Universe and his Without Warning Universe.

Here is a sample of the quality work generally available here.  Apologies to NWB

Rhino Havock

0400 Wheelhouse of MV Aussie Rules.

The Rhino was deliberately waiting before he got his next cup of coffee and a new cigar. He was well aware of the rapidly diminishing supply of both. To find something to do he tweaked the sea clutter up a touch on the RADAR. He snorted “Damned thing’ll acquire, plot & lay off a course & speed for a new target before I even know it’s there.”
Continue reading

9 March, 2009 Posted by | Without Warning | 11 Comments