235 submissions
I'm actually going to upload the rest of the story. It's been a long time coming, but I think some people deserve to see the end. These chapters were written a long time ago. It's interesting to see how far I've come.
Chapter 9: Lost in the Sea of Memory
May 11th, 3239, 1140 hours
Talahan V, Eta Cassiopeia system
Abandoned UNSC base
The ground was soft under Vennettilli's feet. The rich soil here was probably the remnants of an old volcano or two. It made sense as he looked at the mountain towering above him. He altered his view and surveyed the UNSC camp. It was quite clear that there had not been any activity for years. The UNSC pulled out completely in 3236 when it was clear the Talahan Rebels were beaten for good. However, they were crude in their extraction. Old buildings and some cargo crates were left behind. Chris saw with a mixture of contempt and fortune that a perfectly fine MX-22 Jungle Patrol Vehicle was just lying unattended next to a pre-fab building. The jeep would be perfectly driveable with the exception of two inches of jungle moss that decided to make its home on the MX-22's body.
Eta Cassiopeia was a bright orange-yellow, just like Sol. It was late afternoon on this planet. In order to more properly adjust to the time zones while on Talahan, he reset his watch to show local time. Talahan had a 30-hour day, but still used the Earth-based Gregorian Calendar. All planets did. The date would change regardless of what time of day it was. Local days were also recorded, but those were a hindrance. Chris smiled; his watch now read 2041.
"Hey Captain, was this the base you were stationed at?" Hera asked.
"No, I was on the other side of the planet. I never even left that continent. This is a whole different ecosystem."
"What do you mean?" Roan asked, stepping from the shuttle.
"You see, Talahan has three mega-continents; there's Luxor, Highlandshire (which we're in now), and Fratelli. Each continent has its own unique biosphere. Luxor's a frozen wasteland; 3 times the size of Antarctica and it's located near the South Pole. Highlandshire's mostly tropical and stretches around the equator as you can see, and finally, Fratelli is a mix of tropical and extremely warm taiga forest.
"Did you even fly over any of those areas?" Roan asked.
"Nope. I HALO jumped in. Didn't even bother. I got to the edge of the taigas, but by then, they war was over.
"Would you want to see the rest of the planet?"
"I'd sooner choose death." Vennettilli said in a bittersweet way. "This is the one world I wanted to stay away from. This and Malificent."
Hera's ears perked. "Did you fight there too?"
"No but…ah, that's another story." Chris looked around. "We'd better check these buildings. We don't want to have uninvited guests."
The major nodded. "Good idea. OK, I'll go check this medical structure."
"I've got the CP." Roan said. "Jackson's coming with me." Sam nodded and went after Allen.
"Alright. I've got this warehouse. Maybe we'll find some weapons here." He tapped his COM. "NICOLE, do we have any hostile contact?"
"Negative Captain. I'm running a heat and area scan; no humanoid contacts."
"Good work." He closed the COM and racked the slide of Rouge's pistol. He entered the warehouse cautiously. The door had been blown inwards by an explosive force. Peering inside, he could see that some crates were opened, no doubt because of scavengers. Other crates however were still sealed. He smiled and checked a little farther inside. All seemed well until he stepped on something that snapped. He glanced down and saw it was a human leg-bone; a pile of human bones.
Then it attacked.
From out of nowhere, a long tongue-like object wrapped him around the neck and started to squeeze. Chris gasped in pain and surprise. He pulled the trigger and the weapon barked once. A pink flare fired for a second, but it was enough to get the guys running.
Chris glanced up and saw that he was being reeled in by a creature hanging from a hole in the ceiling. He tried to scream but his larynx was being crushed. It looked like a worm with shark teeth, no eyes and claws: the Ropetongue.
By the time he was seven feet off the ground, Hera burst into the room and fired a burst from her stolen Dyson SMG. They impacted the ropetongue which immediately dropped the Captain. Chris bounced on the earthy floor and landed on his back. The carnivorous creature roared once and ran away.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" Sam asked, freaked out by the creature.
"I don't know." Hera reported. She knelt down and looked at Chris. "You alright, Captain?" She waited for his response, which was a painful groan. "Chris?"
The truth was that Chris had been poisoned by the Ropetongue. The poison carried on the tongue was as powerful as the slug-like Spike Crawler on this planet. It could kill smaller prey, but was proven to only knock out humans, but there was no way Chris could tell his friends that. He lay clutching his neck. The alien creature had managed to choke a mark into his skin, as if he had been strangled by a garrote. There was a puncture wound on the left side of his neck. Out of it dripped blood and a mucus-like material: the poison.
"…Water…" He croaked.
"We need to get him out of here!" Jackson said. "Get him aboard the ship! I have a medical kit there!"
The grabbed his arms and legs. "Watch his head." Hera advised. Chris was in shock because of the poison's effects. Out of reflex, one hand was clutching the wound, the other lay limp.
"…Help…" He called again.
"Hang on, we're nearly there." Hera assured, but her voice was so far away. He had to strain to hear.
Soon he could only hear his breathing. Darkness was tugging the corners of his vision, and then, he went back in time.
6 YEARS AGO…
The jungle had decided to be co-operative tonight. The air was holding at a balmy 76 degrees Fahrenheit even close to midnight. Chris decided he liked this temperature. The only thing he dreaded was if it caused him to fall off his guard. He was a warm-weather kind of guy but he preferred to have his eyes open in cold climates than be stuffed in the freezer himself.
He was armed in jungle gear. A light vest, short sleeved shirt and padded boots. He also had a boonie cap tucked on his head. In his hands, an Orion Arms ZK-52 assault rifle. It was 3233 and he was a Sergeant again.
Beside him was Command Master Corporal Charles Madison. It was one week before Madison would step on a Talahase Improvised Explosive Device and die a slow, painful death in Chris' arms. It would be one week before Chris would lose his first and best friend.
"Imagine building a summer home here, huh?" Madison asked.
"I could, yeah." Chris smiled. "Don't think the neighbours would be very friendly though."
"Yeah, I'll say!" Charles said. "You ever get tired of this grind?"
"Yeah, I do." Chris answered. Wandering down the guard path looking for enemies when there are clearly none, getting jittery…yeah, exactly what I signed up for."
Chuck looked at his friend. "Hey, we did not sign up. We were pulled from our lives and told to duke it out with these gibberish-speaking rebels."
"You wanted to join the military anyway, dude."
"Yeah, but not this soon, you know!"
They continued to walk down the guard path, a worn road that was marked by faintly flashing beacons. They were lucky because tonight had two full moons. The jungle floor was clearly visible.
Charles continued to talk to Chris. Being a Command Master Corporal, he was treated as a de facto NCO, which put him on the same page as Chris. That wasn't to say that Chris wasn't strict on Chuck at all, but they trusted one another.
"Hey, you ever wonder what's out there?"
"Sorry?" Chris asked.
"You ever wonder what's out there, I mean." Chuck pointed to a patch of the night sky. The brightest stars were visible. Chris could probably pick out Sol somewhere out there.
"We've been in space for a thousand years. I know what's out there: war, death, destruction…"
"Oh come on. You have to have some enthusiasm. Don't you have hope for the Human race?"
"Chuck. Listen to yourself! We're fighting a war that originally was the result of a union dispute! You ask me if humans have hope?"
"Well…do we?" Madison asked.
Chris couldn't help it. He looked at the stars, looked away from Sol and into deep space. "I…I guess we do. I mean, if we can get out here, and colonize like, a thousand worlds, I guess we have some hope."
The radio broke the philosophical moment. "3-Charlie Echo, check in on patrol route Foxtrot Three."
Chris tapped his COM set. "3-Charlie Echo reporting in. Coast is clear, no hostiles in sight, how copy?"
"Solid copy, 3-Charlie Echo. Overlord copies all. Continue patrol and further check in at 2906 hours. Acknowledge."
Chris tapped the COM. "3-Charlie Echo acknowledges."
"Copy that; Overlord out."
Charles shook his head. "I hate that guy so much. "
"You and me both." The Sergeant Major said.
"Gotta keep on truckin' though. At least we'll get some relief when we get back to base."
"Good. I can't stand the nights here."
Just before they continued on their patrol, they heard staccato weapons fire among the trees.
"Are those ours?" Madison asked.
"No, I don't think so…" Chris said tapping his COM.
"3-Charlie Echo to CCP, are you reading?"
"Solid Copy, 3-Charlie Echo. Go."
"We have weapons fire to the Northeast. I don't think they're ours, over."
" Acknowledged, 3-Charlie. Are you able to investigate?"
"We're foot-mobile, over."
"Acknowledged. Orders are to move in on suspected infantry and report in, please confirm."
"Confirmed. We're on the move. Interrogative: are they firing on our units, over?"
"Uh, unsure, 3-Charlie. We have not received any distress calls from any outward units. Be advised, you do not have permission to engage on will. Fire if fired upon."
"Acknowledged, HQ. Fire if fired upon. 3-Charlie Echo out." He closed the COM and turned to Chuck. "Looks like it's you and me."
"Wait, couldn't we go back to camp?"
"Too far." Chris said. "We're over five miles from base camp. We need to figure out what's going on."
Chuck shrugged. "You have the chevrons."
"I'm glad you agree. Come on; let's go."
The jogged through the jungle, making sure to check the forest floor for tripwires. The UNSC had lost many people through careless mistakes involving landmines. Vennettilli assured himself that he would never fall victim to that careless and painful death…if he died of course.
The moons had started to set. Chris ordered that they switch to night vision. The jungle was bathed in a low glow. Trees were outlined in an orange lining as the two Marines moved towards the gunfire. Five minutes later, the tree-line broke onto a ridge. The two soldiers went prone and sighted their weapons.
In the valley below, a massive firefight was taking place. Talahan rebels were in tanks engaging UNSC troops. The military forces were exchanging all sorts of weapons fire. Chris looked at Madison. "How can something this big go on and nobody says anything about it?"
"Broken COMs?" Chuck suggested.
"On all of them? Unlikely."
"Concentrated EMP?"
"Now you're talking, Chuckie!" Chris took out binoculars and zoomed in on the combat. "OK, looks like two Heracles models…possibly the A-23 MBT."
"No, it's the A-22. Look, there's only one antenna."
"Right, right. OK, on support, I would assume a Kit Fox AFV."
"I agree. The one on the right has a bit of damage."
The Sergeant Major looked around the small battlefield. The tank scored a direct hit on a Marine position sending soldiers flying into the air.
"Sarge, they're taking a beating. I suggest you call it in."
"I agree. I can't take any more of this." He tapped his ear-COM. "3-Charlie Echo to Command, anybody reading me, over?"
"Command reading five by five, 3-Charlie. What is the status of the gunfire?"
"A UNSC Platoon is under fire. I am estimating them to be at half-strength."
"Can you identify them, Sergeant Major?"
Chris activated his HUD. The sunglasses he was wearing detailed the unit under fire. They were characterized with a snake wrapped around a trident. "Command, I have eyes on the 39th Amphibious Assault Battalion, 6th Platoon; out of Primi Dora."
"Copy that, 3-Charlie. Double checking now…"
The voice returned ten second later.
"Confirmed, 39th is in theater." He turned to someone else. "Why aren't they responding? Get someone on that, now."
The Sergeant Major suggested that it might have been because of a precision EMP strike in the area. Command denied it.
"Not likely Sergeant. TAC teams report no EMP strikes in the area; assume COMs blackout."
Chuck cut in. "Can we assume we have backup?"
"4-Charlie Echo, that's a negative; get off the line."
"No, we're on our own?" Chris said.
"Affirmative. You do have a fire mission available though."
That made his day. An artillery strike in the area could effectively destroy the advancing rebel party, but it could give away their location.
"Sarge, these guys need our help."
"Command, patch me through to fire command."
"Affirmative. Good luck 3-Charlie."
There was silence over the channel, then a gruff man's voice fizzled in.
"Staff Sergeant Hoffman, we are at your service, 3-Charlie."`
"Hoffman, this is Sergeant Vennettilli, we have discovered 6th platoon of the 39th Amphibious pinned down. We require fire support!"
"Solid copy, Sergeant Major. Designate area, we have rounds loaded."
That's when the reality hit them: They had no designator. They had no way to tell artillery command where to shoot.
"Artillery Command, we have no designator."
"Well that kind of makes shooting shit difficult, doesn't it, Vennettilli?"
"Fuck this!" Chris cursed. "You got a map?" he asked Chuck.
"Yeah, right here!" Madison said digging into his pocket.
"Give me it, give me it!" Chris spoke to the Sergeant on the other line, "Artillery Command, stay on the line."
"Roger…"
Madison spread the map out. "OK. Here's base camp, five miles thataway." He pointed to a red square marked as 'CAMP'. "Guard trail loops around the camp clockwise. That would place us somewhere around… here I guess…"
"No, we're standing in front of a depression…" Chris reasoned, pointing at the ravine. "Look for a depression around…fifty feet?"
A tank shell smashed into the river wall below them. Thankfully they were not spotted.
"I got it! Right along the guard trail! Here we are!"
Chris snatched the map. "Artillery Command, we have your fire mission!"
"Alright Sergeant, let me have it!"
"Requesting fire mission on Grid setting: Fox Niner Seven Fower Two Tree Tree Seven Four Six! Seven shell barrage, danger close!"
"Solid Copy, grid setting F974233746; danger close. Fire for effect! Shot…!"
There was no sound, but they could tell that a huge rain of fire was going to engulf the rebel forces before they would even know what hit them.
"Time on target, 5 seconds…" Hoffman chimed.
"Better get down." Chris advised. Both him and Charles hit the dirt and covered their ears.
"You know we might die, right?" Madison said a little concerned.
Chris laughed. "You want to make a bet on that?"
"And pay you back in heaven?"
"No way, you're going to wire it to me from hell."
A sharp screech filled the air as the artillery shells hit the targets. The tanks disintegrated into shards of metal. Rebels screamed as they ran for cover. The Infantry Fighting Vehicles flipped three times before landing on their sides. The men of the 39th, confused, attacked the running men with vigour before the last shell hit the ground. All that was left of the rebel platoon was a smouldering crater with the charred remains of tanks and soldiers.
"Hoffman to Vennettilli. Confirm delivery of ordinance on target."
"Vennettilli to Hoffman, hit confirmed. We rang their bell."
"Acknowledged. Damn fine callout! It's been a pleasure working with you; Artillery Command out."
The Sergeant reconnected to command. "HQ, the 39th has been liberated."
"Excellent work. Go down there and make sure they're alright. Find out why they were not responding too."
Chris told Madison to come with him. They found a natural ramp leading them into the ravine floor. Guns were pointed in their direction.
"Don't move!" One of the soldiers called with weapons raised.
"That the way to treat your rescuers?" Madison asked smiling.
"… That was you?" another soldier asked.
"Yes." Chris said. "Who's in charge here?"
"Me." A stocky man in combat gear said. He pushed his way forward. "2nd Lieutenant Mo Berack, 39th Army Battalion"
"Lieutenant, Sergeant Major Christopher Vennettilli, 182nd Marine Infantry Division."
They shook hands. Berack smirked. "182nd? You boys pull some major miracles, including saving our asses!"
The men chuckled.
"Hey uh… thanks for the middle finger of God back there." The Lieutenant said. "You really saved some people's lives."
"Sorry we weren't here sooner."
"Nah, it's all good."
Chris cleared his throat. "Sir, why weren't you able to call for help?"
"EMP. We were hit before out ship went down in the bay. We swam to shore; didn't have time to grab our packs, just some ammo and guns. We're starving, Sergeant."
Chris nodded. He tapped his COM. "Command, The 39th is safe. We have wounded. These soldiers report an EMP attack in the bay. Took their ship... the…"
"Holloway."
"… the Holloway down. Do you have any information regarding this?"
"That information's classified, Sergeant. We cannot access that. Bring those men back. You've done a good job."
Chris didn't question, but he gathered the men up, and they started walking back.
"Just another day at the office?" Chris asked his friend.
"Are you kidding?" Madison asked. "I can do this the whole damn war."
Light started to flood back in. He found himself coughing violently while lying on a bed. He discovered that his shirt was off and a bandage was wrapped around his neck. He groaned and sat up. He saw that Hera, Roan and Jackson were all sitting in one corner of a bunkroom.
"Hey, you're up." Hera said walking over to him. "We were really worried."
"Where am I…?" Chris asked in a very low voice.
"You're on the ship." Allen said. "We were able to drag you back to safety. Thought you were a goner."
Chris chuckled. "I wasn't going to die."
"We saw that thing strangle you, inject you with poison!"
"It was the choking I was worried about." Chris said. "The poison isn't fatal; I would just be knocked out for a while. Good thinking with the gunshot. Those things are scared by loud noises."
Chris was surprised with how slow he was talking. He hadn't been bitten by a ropetongue before. He could have only imagined the effects.
"How are you feeling?" Jackson asked. "You look weak."
"I… blacked out for a little while. I fell, and then I woke up; nothing in between."
He didn't mention his flashback to the war. He didn't want them to think this planet was having an effect on him.
"Thank God you're alright." The Major said. Come on, let's get your shirt."
She unfolded it. The fabric was coated with dried blood.
"Sorry, we didn't have time to clean it."
"It's alright, give me it."
He slipped the shirt over his head and cracked his neck.
"What's next on the agenda?" The rabbit asked.
"Same as before. We lay low."
"Chris, can you at least pretend like you're interested in taking Marshall down?"
"Why? I want to stay safe so that I can go back to Mobius-"
"—and whether you like it or not human," Samantha said, "that's not going to happen until we find something that can help us. You are acting very selfish right now, only thinking about you!"
"Don't say I'm selfish!"
"Then do something to help us! We're here, we're not leaving; give us a hand, huh? You know this planet better than we do, and we all know that you don't want to stay here forever."
Chris knew she was right. Of course she was. The sooner that he was off this planet, the better. He was expected to cut his teeth along the way though. One thing was important though. If he was going to stay here, there was one thing he needed to do.
"If we're going to look for clues, I want to look for something."
"What?" Hera asked.
"I want to find my best friend's grave."
They once more ventured into the deserted camp. "Did you search all these buildings?"
"While you were out, yes." Allen said. "There was a nest of those snake thingies in them."
"Ropetongues."
"Right."
"We figured out they didn't like gunshots, but we were afraid we would have broadcast our position out there. Thankfully we pretty much scared them off.
"So what do we have?"
"A few guns, a crate of ammo, a bit of food, medical supplies, and that SUV there." Hera said pointing to the Jungle Jeep.
"Any of the data in this base still intact?"
"No, I don't think so. Most of the computers were shot or bashed in." Abigail said. "Hard drives are fried too."
Chris thought about it. Why would they do this? Was it a scorched earth tactic? Leave nothing behind, or were they hiding something they didn't want anybody to see? Chris' experience in the last few days made him suggest the latter, but he decided to put it out of his mind.
"We take the car. NICOLE?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"Mark the location of the ship with a NAV beacon."
"Done and done. Nobody's getting close to this baby."
"Major, you said there was a settlement on this planet?"
"The Kingdom of Blaine, yes."
"We will be avoiding that until we have found all the information we can out here."
"Yes, sir!" They all said. Chris smiled. He liked being in charge again. It gave him a purpose in life; to lead people to victory, or die trying.
They all got into the jeep. It was a little mossy but it wasn't an issue.
"Hope the engine works." Allen said.
"This thing has a fusion battery." Chris explained. "It'll last a thousand years before you have to take it in for an oil change!" He chuckled as he switched it on. The engine fought for a second, but then the headlights sprang on and the engine started to purr.
"That's what I want to hear." The Captain said. "OK, where to first?"
NICOLE's hologram appeared on the dashboard. "A good suggestion is UNSC Outpost Kendleton, approximately twenty kilometers away. They have a COM relay that will help me patch into the orbital camera network. Once I'm there, I can give you an eye in the sky looking for anything of value and listening for anything worth tuning into."
"Speaking of tunes, what's on the radio?" Jackson asked. She twisted one of the knobs.
"… my citizens, as your King and channel to God, I have come to you today to inform you of this solstice season. We have had a bountiful harvest and we are one step closer to taking to the stars again and vanquishing the collective fascists of Earth and-"
She killed it. "Forget it, I'll hum."
The jeep bounces through the jungle over logs and rocks. Armed with a heading, the crew moved into the trees, hoping to find some answers on this damned rock.
Chapter 9: Lost in the Sea of Memory
May 11th, 3239, 1140 hours
Talahan V, Eta Cassiopeia system
Abandoned UNSC base
The ground was soft under Vennettilli's feet. The rich soil here was probably the remnants of an old volcano or two. It made sense as he looked at the mountain towering above him. He altered his view and surveyed the UNSC camp. It was quite clear that there had not been any activity for years. The UNSC pulled out completely in 3236 when it was clear the Talahan Rebels were beaten for good. However, they were crude in their extraction. Old buildings and some cargo crates were left behind. Chris saw with a mixture of contempt and fortune that a perfectly fine MX-22 Jungle Patrol Vehicle was just lying unattended next to a pre-fab building. The jeep would be perfectly driveable with the exception of two inches of jungle moss that decided to make its home on the MX-22's body.
Eta Cassiopeia was a bright orange-yellow, just like Sol. It was late afternoon on this planet. In order to more properly adjust to the time zones while on Talahan, he reset his watch to show local time. Talahan had a 30-hour day, but still used the Earth-based Gregorian Calendar. All planets did. The date would change regardless of what time of day it was. Local days were also recorded, but those were a hindrance. Chris smiled; his watch now read 2041.
"Hey Captain, was this the base you were stationed at?" Hera asked.
"No, I was on the other side of the planet. I never even left that continent. This is a whole different ecosystem."
"What do you mean?" Roan asked, stepping from the shuttle.
"You see, Talahan has three mega-continents; there's Luxor, Highlandshire (which we're in now), and Fratelli. Each continent has its own unique biosphere. Luxor's a frozen wasteland; 3 times the size of Antarctica and it's located near the South Pole. Highlandshire's mostly tropical and stretches around the equator as you can see, and finally, Fratelli is a mix of tropical and extremely warm taiga forest.
"Did you even fly over any of those areas?" Roan asked.
"Nope. I HALO jumped in. Didn't even bother. I got to the edge of the taigas, but by then, they war was over.
"Would you want to see the rest of the planet?"
"I'd sooner choose death." Vennettilli said in a bittersweet way. "This is the one world I wanted to stay away from. This and Malificent."
Hera's ears perked. "Did you fight there too?"
"No but…ah, that's another story." Chris looked around. "We'd better check these buildings. We don't want to have uninvited guests."
The major nodded. "Good idea. OK, I'll go check this medical structure."
"I've got the CP." Roan said. "Jackson's coming with me." Sam nodded and went after Allen.
"Alright. I've got this warehouse. Maybe we'll find some weapons here." He tapped his COM. "NICOLE, do we have any hostile contact?"
"Negative Captain. I'm running a heat and area scan; no humanoid contacts."
"Good work." He closed the COM and racked the slide of Rouge's pistol. He entered the warehouse cautiously. The door had been blown inwards by an explosive force. Peering inside, he could see that some crates were opened, no doubt because of scavengers. Other crates however were still sealed. He smiled and checked a little farther inside. All seemed well until he stepped on something that snapped. He glanced down and saw it was a human leg-bone; a pile of human bones.
Then it attacked.
From out of nowhere, a long tongue-like object wrapped him around the neck and started to squeeze. Chris gasped in pain and surprise. He pulled the trigger and the weapon barked once. A pink flare fired for a second, but it was enough to get the guys running.
Chris glanced up and saw that he was being reeled in by a creature hanging from a hole in the ceiling. He tried to scream but his larynx was being crushed. It looked like a worm with shark teeth, no eyes and claws: the Ropetongue.
By the time he was seven feet off the ground, Hera burst into the room and fired a burst from her stolen Dyson SMG. They impacted the ropetongue which immediately dropped the Captain. Chris bounced on the earthy floor and landed on his back. The carnivorous creature roared once and ran away.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" Sam asked, freaked out by the creature.
"I don't know." Hera reported. She knelt down and looked at Chris. "You alright, Captain?" She waited for his response, which was a painful groan. "Chris?"
The truth was that Chris had been poisoned by the Ropetongue. The poison carried on the tongue was as powerful as the slug-like Spike Crawler on this planet. It could kill smaller prey, but was proven to only knock out humans, but there was no way Chris could tell his friends that. He lay clutching his neck. The alien creature had managed to choke a mark into his skin, as if he had been strangled by a garrote. There was a puncture wound on the left side of his neck. Out of it dripped blood and a mucus-like material: the poison.
"…Water…" He croaked.
"We need to get him out of here!" Jackson said. "Get him aboard the ship! I have a medical kit there!"
The grabbed his arms and legs. "Watch his head." Hera advised. Chris was in shock because of the poison's effects. Out of reflex, one hand was clutching the wound, the other lay limp.
"…Help…" He called again.
"Hang on, we're nearly there." Hera assured, but her voice was so far away. He had to strain to hear.
Soon he could only hear his breathing. Darkness was tugging the corners of his vision, and then, he went back in time.
6 YEARS AGO…
The jungle had decided to be co-operative tonight. The air was holding at a balmy 76 degrees Fahrenheit even close to midnight. Chris decided he liked this temperature. The only thing he dreaded was if it caused him to fall off his guard. He was a warm-weather kind of guy but he preferred to have his eyes open in cold climates than be stuffed in the freezer himself.
He was armed in jungle gear. A light vest, short sleeved shirt and padded boots. He also had a boonie cap tucked on his head. In his hands, an Orion Arms ZK-52 assault rifle. It was 3233 and he was a Sergeant again.
Beside him was Command Master Corporal Charles Madison. It was one week before Madison would step on a Talahase Improvised Explosive Device and die a slow, painful death in Chris' arms. It would be one week before Chris would lose his first and best friend.
"Imagine building a summer home here, huh?" Madison asked.
"I could, yeah." Chris smiled. "Don't think the neighbours would be very friendly though."
"Yeah, I'll say!" Charles said. "You ever get tired of this grind?"
"Yeah, I do." Chris answered. Wandering down the guard path looking for enemies when there are clearly none, getting jittery…yeah, exactly what I signed up for."
Chuck looked at his friend. "Hey, we did not sign up. We were pulled from our lives and told to duke it out with these gibberish-speaking rebels."
"You wanted to join the military anyway, dude."
"Yeah, but not this soon, you know!"
They continued to walk down the guard path, a worn road that was marked by faintly flashing beacons. They were lucky because tonight had two full moons. The jungle floor was clearly visible.
Charles continued to talk to Chris. Being a Command Master Corporal, he was treated as a de facto NCO, which put him on the same page as Chris. That wasn't to say that Chris wasn't strict on Chuck at all, but they trusted one another.
"Hey, you ever wonder what's out there?"
"Sorry?" Chris asked.
"You ever wonder what's out there, I mean." Chuck pointed to a patch of the night sky. The brightest stars were visible. Chris could probably pick out Sol somewhere out there.
"We've been in space for a thousand years. I know what's out there: war, death, destruction…"
"Oh come on. You have to have some enthusiasm. Don't you have hope for the Human race?"
"Chuck. Listen to yourself! We're fighting a war that originally was the result of a union dispute! You ask me if humans have hope?"
"Well…do we?" Madison asked.
Chris couldn't help it. He looked at the stars, looked away from Sol and into deep space. "I…I guess we do. I mean, if we can get out here, and colonize like, a thousand worlds, I guess we have some hope."
The radio broke the philosophical moment. "3-Charlie Echo, check in on patrol route Foxtrot Three."
Chris tapped his COM set. "3-Charlie Echo reporting in. Coast is clear, no hostiles in sight, how copy?"
"Solid copy, 3-Charlie Echo. Overlord copies all. Continue patrol and further check in at 2906 hours. Acknowledge."
Chris tapped the COM. "3-Charlie Echo acknowledges."
"Copy that; Overlord out."
Charles shook his head. "I hate that guy so much. "
"You and me both." The Sergeant Major said.
"Gotta keep on truckin' though. At least we'll get some relief when we get back to base."
"Good. I can't stand the nights here."
Just before they continued on their patrol, they heard staccato weapons fire among the trees.
"Are those ours?" Madison asked.
"No, I don't think so…" Chris said tapping his COM.
"3-Charlie Echo to CCP, are you reading?"
"Solid Copy, 3-Charlie Echo. Go."
"We have weapons fire to the Northeast. I don't think they're ours, over."
" Acknowledged, 3-Charlie. Are you able to investigate?"
"We're foot-mobile, over."
"Acknowledged. Orders are to move in on suspected infantry and report in, please confirm."
"Confirmed. We're on the move. Interrogative: are they firing on our units, over?"
"Uh, unsure, 3-Charlie. We have not received any distress calls from any outward units. Be advised, you do not have permission to engage on will. Fire if fired upon."
"Acknowledged, HQ. Fire if fired upon. 3-Charlie Echo out." He closed the COM and turned to Chuck. "Looks like it's you and me."
"Wait, couldn't we go back to camp?"
"Too far." Chris said. "We're over five miles from base camp. We need to figure out what's going on."
Chuck shrugged. "You have the chevrons."
"I'm glad you agree. Come on; let's go."
The jogged through the jungle, making sure to check the forest floor for tripwires. The UNSC had lost many people through careless mistakes involving landmines. Vennettilli assured himself that he would never fall victim to that careless and painful death…if he died of course.
The moons had started to set. Chris ordered that they switch to night vision. The jungle was bathed in a low glow. Trees were outlined in an orange lining as the two Marines moved towards the gunfire. Five minutes later, the tree-line broke onto a ridge. The two soldiers went prone and sighted their weapons.
In the valley below, a massive firefight was taking place. Talahan rebels were in tanks engaging UNSC troops. The military forces were exchanging all sorts of weapons fire. Chris looked at Madison. "How can something this big go on and nobody says anything about it?"
"Broken COMs?" Chuck suggested.
"On all of them? Unlikely."
"Concentrated EMP?"
"Now you're talking, Chuckie!" Chris took out binoculars and zoomed in on the combat. "OK, looks like two Heracles models…possibly the A-23 MBT."
"No, it's the A-22. Look, there's only one antenna."
"Right, right. OK, on support, I would assume a Kit Fox AFV."
"I agree. The one on the right has a bit of damage."
The Sergeant Major looked around the small battlefield. The tank scored a direct hit on a Marine position sending soldiers flying into the air.
"Sarge, they're taking a beating. I suggest you call it in."
"I agree. I can't take any more of this." He tapped his ear-COM. "3-Charlie Echo to Command, anybody reading me, over?"
"Command reading five by five, 3-Charlie. What is the status of the gunfire?"
"A UNSC Platoon is under fire. I am estimating them to be at half-strength."
"Can you identify them, Sergeant Major?"
Chris activated his HUD. The sunglasses he was wearing detailed the unit under fire. They were characterized with a snake wrapped around a trident. "Command, I have eyes on the 39th Amphibious Assault Battalion, 6th Platoon; out of Primi Dora."
"Copy that, 3-Charlie. Double checking now…"
The voice returned ten second later.
"Confirmed, 39th is in theater." He turned to someone else. "Why aren't they responding? Get someone on that, now."
The Sergeant Major suggested that it might have been because of a precision EMP strike in the area. Command denied it.
"Not likely Sergeant. TAC teams report no EMP strikes in the area; assume COMs blackout."
Chuck cut in. "Can we assume we have backup?"
"4-Charlie Echo, that's a negative; get off the line."
"No, we're on our own?" Chris said.
"Affirmative. You do have a fire mission available though."
That made his day. An artillery strike in the area could effectively destroy the advancing rebel party, but it could give away their location.
"Sarge, these guys need our help."
"Command, patch me through to fire command."
"Affirmative. Good luck 3-Charlie."
There was silence over the channel, then a gruff man's voice fizzled in.
"Staff Sergeant Hoffman, we are at your service, 3-Charlie."`
"Hoffman, this is Sergeant Vennettilli, we have discovered 6th platoon of the 39th Amphibious pinned down. We require fire support!"
"Solid copy, Sergeant Major. Designate area, we have rounds loaded."
That's when the reality hit them: They had no designator. They had no way to tell artillery command where to shoot.
"Artillery Command, we have no designator."
"Well that kind of makes shooting shit difficult, doesn't it, Vennettilli?"
"Fuck this!" Chris cursed. "You got a map?" he asked Chuck.
"Yeah, right here!" Madison said digging into his pocket.
"Give me it, give me it!" Chris spoke to the Sergeant on the other line, "Artillery Command, stay on the line."
"Roger…"
Madison spread the map out. "OK. Here's base camp, five miles thataway." He pointed to a red square marked as 'CAMP'. "Guard trail loops around the camp clockwise. That would place us somewhere around… here I guess…"
"No, we're standing in front of a depression…" Chris reasoned, pointing at the ravine. "Look for a depression around…fifty feet?"
A tank shell smashed into the river wall below them. Thankfully they were not spotted.
"I got it! Right along the guard trail! Here we are!"
Chris snatched the map. "Artillery Command, we have your fire mission!"
"Alright Sergeant, let me have it!"
"Requesting fire mission on Grid setting: Fox Niner Seven Fower Two Tree Tree Seven Four Six! Seven shell barrage, danger close!"
"Solid Copy, grid setting F974233746; danger close. Fire for effect! Shot…!"
There was no sound, but they could tell that a huge rain of fire was going to engulf the rebel forces before they would even know what hit them.
"Time on target, 5 seconds…" Hoffman chimed.
"Better get down." Chris advised. Both him and Charles hit the dirt and covered their ears.
"You know we might die, right?" Madison said a little concerned.
Chris laughed. "You want to make a bet on that?"
"And pay you back in heaven?"
"No way, you're going to wire it to me from hell."
A sharp screech filled the air as the artillery shells hit the targets. The tanks disintegrated into shards of metal. Rebels screamed as they ran for cover. The Infantry Fighting Vehicles flipped three times before landing on their sides. The men of the 39th, confused, attacked the running men with vigour before the last shell hit the ground. All that was left of the rebel platoon was a smouldering crater with the charred remains of tanks and soldiers.
"Hoffman to Vennettilli. Confirm delivery of ordinance on target."
"Vennettilli to Hoffman, hit confirmed. We rang their bell."
"Acknowledged. Damn fine callout! It's been a pleasure working with you; Artillery Command out."
The Sergeant reconnected to command. "HQ, the 39th has been liberated."
"Excellent work. Go down there and make sure they're alright. Find out why they were not responding too."
Chris told Madison to come with him. They found a natural ramp leading them into the ravine floor. Guns were pointed in their direction.
"Don't move!" One of the soldiers called with weapons raised.
"That the way to treat your rescuers?" Madison asked smiling.
"… That was you?" another soldier asked.
"Yes." Chris said. "Who's in charge here?"
"Me." A stocky man in combat gear said. He pushed his way forward. "2nd Lieutenant Mo Berack, 39th Army Battalion"
"Lieutenant, Sergeant Major Christopher Vennettilli, 182nd Marine Infantry Division."
They shook hands. Berack smirked. "182nd? You boys pull some major miracles, including saving our asses!"
The men chuckled.
"Hey uh… thanks for the middle finger of God back there." The Lieutenant said. "You really saved some people's lives."
"Sorry we weren't here sooner."
"Nah, it's all good."
Chris cleared his throat. "Sir, why weren't you able to call for help?"
"EMP. We were hit before out ship went down in the bay. We swam to shore; didn't have time to grab our packs, just some ammo and guns. We're starving, Sergeant."
Chris nodded. He tapped his COM. "Command, The 39th is safe. We have wounded. These soldiers report an EMP attack in the bay. Took their ship... the…"
"Holloway."
"… the Holloway down. Do you have any information regarding this?"
"That information's classified, Sergeant. We cannot access that. Bring those men back. You've done a good job."
Chris didn't question, but he gathered the men up, and they started walking back.
"Just another day at the office?" Chris asked his friend.
"Are you kidding?" Madison asked. "I can do this the whole damn war."
Light started to flood back in. He found himself coughing violently while lying on a bed. He discovered that his shirt was off and a bandage was wrapped around his neck. He groaned and sat up. He saw that Hera, Roan and Jackson were all sitting in one corner of a bunkroom.
"Hey, you're up." Hera said walking over to him. "We were really worried."
"Where am I…?" Chris asked in a very low voice.
"You're on the ship." Allen said. "We were able to drag you back to safety. Thought you were a goner."
Chris chuckled. "I wasn't going to die."
"We saw that thing strangle you, inject you with poison!"
"It was the choking I was worried about." Chris said. "The poison isn't fatal; I would just be knocked out for a while. Good thinking with the gunshot. Those things are scared by loud noises."
Chris was surprised with how slow he was talking. He hadn't been bitten by a ropetongue before. He could have only imagined the effects.
"How are you feeling?" Jackson asked. "You look weak."
"I… blacked out for a little while. I fell, and then I woke up; nothing in between."
He didn't mention his flashback to the war. He didn't want them to think this planet was having an effect on him.
"Thank God you're alright." The Major said. Come on, let's get your shirt."
She unfolded it. The fabric was coated with dried blood.
"Sorry, we didn't have time to clean it."
"It's alright, give me it."
He slipped the shirt over his head and cracked his neck.
"What's next on the agenda?" The rabbit asked.
"Same as before. We lay low."
"Chris, can you at least pretend like you're interested in taking Marshall down?"
"Why? I want to stay safe so that I can go back to Mobius-"
"—and whether you like it or not human," Samantha said, "that's not going to happen until we find something that can help us. You are acting very selfish right now, only thinking about you!"
"Don't say I'm selfish!"
"Then do something to help us! We're here, we're not leaving; give us a hand, huh? You know this planet better than we do, and we all know that you don't want to stay here forever."
Chris knew she was right. Of course she was. The sooner that he was off this planet, the better. He was expected to cut his teeth along the way though. One thing was important though. If he was going to stay here, there was one thing he needed to do.
"If we're going to look for clues, I want to look for something."
"What?" Hera asked.
"I want to find my best friend's grave."
They once more ventured into the deserted camp. "Did you search all these buildings?"
"While you were out, yes." Allen said. "There was a nest of those snake thingies in them."
"Ropetongues."
"Right."
"We figured out they didn't like gunshots, but we were afraid we would have broadcast our position out there. Thankfully we pretty much scared them off.
"So what do we have?"
"A few guns, a crate of ammo, a bit of food, medical supplies, and that SUV there." Hera said pointing to the Jungle Jeep.
"Any of the data in this base still intact?"
"No, I don't think so. Most of the computers were shot or bashed in." Abigail said. "Hard drives are fried too."
Chris thought about it. Why would they do this? Was it a scorched earth tactic? Leave nothing behind, or were they hiding something they didn't want anybody to see? Chris' experience in the last few days made him suggest the latter, but he decided to put it out of his mind.
"We take the car. NICOLE?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"Mark the location of the ship with a NAV beacon."
"Done and done. Nobody's getting close to this baby."
"Major, you said there was a settlement on this planet?"
"The Kingdom of Blaine, yes."
"We will be avoiding that until we have found all the information we can out here."
"Yes, sir!" They all said. Chris smiled. He liked being in charge again. It gave him a purpose in life; to lead people to victory, or die trying.
They all got into the jeep. It was a little mossy but it wasn't an issue.
"Hope the engine works." Allen said.
"This thing has a fusion battery." Chris explained. "It'll last a thousand years before you have to take it in for an oil change!" He chuckled as he switched it on. The engine fought for a second, but then the headlights sprang on and the engine started to purr.
"That's what I want to hear." The Captain said. "OK, where to first?"
NICOLE's hologram appeared on the dashboard. "A good suggestion is UNSC Outpost Kendleton, approximately twenty kilometers away. They have a COM relay that will help me patch into the orbital camera network. Once I'm there, I can give you an eye in the sky looking for anything of value and listening for anything worth tuning into."
"Speaking of tunes, what's on the radio?" Jackson asked. She twisted one of the knobs.
"… my citizens, as your King and channel to God, I have come to you today to inform you of this solstice season. We have had a bountiful harvest and we are one step closer to taking to the stars again and vanquishing the collective fascists of Earth and-"
She killed it. "Forget it, I'll hum."
The jeep bounces through the jungle over logs and rocks. Armed with a heading, the crew moved into the trees, hoping to find some answers on this damned rock.
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