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Chapter 20: Man Overboard
May 20th, 3233, 1400 hours
Talahan V, Eta Cassiopeia system
Livido Grassplains, Fratelli Continent
SIX YEARS AGO...
The normally hectic days on Talahan V during the war seemed somewhat absent today of all days. The skies which were normally filled with exploding flak and the whining of aerial combat were empty. Instead, the golden disc of Eta Cassiopeia shone down on the Livado Grassplains. The locals had a name for this disc. In the English-derived tongue, the sun was known as Rhaydyaent ('Radiant' in Earth English), and it certainly lived up to its name. The sun sent its energy to a slowly patrolling group of Marines and vehicles.
This was Falcon Group, a small detachment of Marines and vehicles that was moving across the plains. Quite often the firebases of Penicular and Firestarter traded vehicles and personnel through the grassplains. Today it was Falcon's turn to make the journey across the Livido.
The man leading the movement was Roswell Benedict, who was the only captain in the 50-man platoon. Also in the movement were four A270 Kit Fox APCs; Their 30mm Autocannons cast imposing shadows in the dirt. In a way, they resembled the ancient Scorpion tanks of times past, but they were much faster than any of the old vehicles. Benedict heaved his rifle over his shoulder and looked into the air. The sun was high in the sky but the moons were starting to set. One of the ice-covered moons shone in the light of the sun. In many ways, it reminded Roswell about home back in Orwell on Mars. He took a drag on his cigarette and called his lieutenant.
"Kapplin! Get over here!"
The lanky man with dirty blond tousled hair and a hooked nose ran up to the officer.
"Yes, sir?"
"Where's the rest of my squad?"
"Uh... they're back there somewhere. Slacking on the hustle." Kapplin looked over his shoulder.
"Make sure that they get their asses into formation before we're back in the jungle. Got it?"
"No problem, sir. Vennettilli! Where are you?"
The young Sergeant had violated one of the sacred rules passed down from Remus Stacker, the Unholy One and his old DI. Rule 74 stated, 'A Marine is a one man wrecking crew, court system, judge, jury, and executioner. A Marine is not to build ties for the fear of having them torn apart by the machine of war. Abide or pay the price.'
Chris had broken the rule and paid that price quite severely. His best friend Charles Madison had died in his arms before the evac birds could arrive. Chris remembered the pain on his friend's face as both his legs had been blown off by a mine, and several shards of shrapnel were wedged in his chest. He remembered trying to comfort him as he was clearly dying. He offered to remove the shrapnel with his bare hands and give Charles a chance, but by then, he had slipped into unconsciousness. From there, he died without waking up again.
He was possibly skirting the boundary of doing it again. He was chatting with other members of his squad, trying to get their thoughts on the situation. He was chatting with Dean Shepard, who was as close to a friend as he had on this swampball.
"So, what, this is the third troop movement this week?" Dean asked.
"The Commandant wants as many shared troops as possible. Because Firestarter and Penicular are so close, it's enough to keep him happy." Chris said.
"Well are they worried about an ambush?"
Chris shook his head. "Nah. The Livido Plains are relatively flat or somewhat rolling. No place to hide an entire army. Besides, we have this corridor secure."
"Ah, says who?" Dean asked.
"Overlord." the Sergeant said, referencing the Ops officer who was coordinating tactical info.
"And if Overlord came down here and said that to your face, would you believe it?"
"He's my superior officer."
Suddenly, Dean turned to face the noncom. "Listen here, before I was in the Corps, I worked as a cop on Galbadia."
"Galbadia?"
"Yeah, the planet famous for the Reckland Riots."
"Oh! THAT Galbadia."
"My job was to haul people in and determine whether they were giving me bullshit or not. I got pretty good at it after five years, able to sniff out the smallest stench and use it against them."
"So, what does this have to do with Command?"
"Command may say something to you, but it's up to you whether or not you want to believe it. My superiors always thought one thing and I wasn't afraid to show my apprehension towards their decisions."
"Maybe so." Chris said. "But I'm scared to death of standing up to Benedict and Kapplin."
"You want to know a secret, boyo?" Dean asked.
"Sure."
"I am too." He smiled nervously. "The trick is to tell that part of your mind to shut the fuck up and square away."
"SERGEANT!" Lieutenant Kapplin yelled.
"Oh shit." Chris gasped. "Yes sir!" He said running up to the officer.
"What's the status of the men?"
"Nobody's reporting any problems. All twenty fireteams are reporting nominal. Nothing out of the ordinary."
"Any of the APCs giving any issues?"
"Not that I am aware of, sir; I think they were tuned up fine before we moved out."
Kapplin nodded. "Alright, get the men up here in formation. We are less than five minutes from heading back in the jungle. I want you all ready."
"Aye-aye, sir!" Chris saluted. "Guys! Stack up on me. Lieutenant wants us ready for jungle re-entry!"
The squad complied, albeit with a few groans. It was customary for them to be in formation for just about anything from drills, to movements, to going to the bathroom. Some in the Corps called Roswell Benedict the ultimate hardass. They weren't incorrect.
Within minutes, the convoy had entered the jungle. The calm and cool air turned sticky and dark. Strange alien birds cawed in the air and odd plants snaked all over the forest floor.
"Damn, are we on the same planet?" Corporal Sid Romano asked.
"Nah, Sid." Dean replied. "We're in hell."
Kapplin looked around. "Hey, is someone begging for a boot in the ass?"
"Hell no, sir." Sheppard said with a smug smile.
"Then wipe that disgusting grin off your face before I make Winston break your face." He pointed threateningly towards the Marine.
"Aye-aye sir."
Jeff Winston "The Silent" just looked on. He never really spoke unless he was accepting an order or reporting a marksman kill. Other than that, he made less noise than a mouse in a chapel. Some of the guys in Charlie Platoon thought he had a social disorder, PTSD or something. It certainly wouldn't be surprising considering the line of work he was in. However, some suspected that Winston had a sense of detachment, as most of his kills were at range, and he didn't have to see the light leave his target's eyes.
They walked another three minutes before Chris just felt something... wrong. Most servicemen developed a sense where they could anticipate danger, and this was a perfect example of a hazardous situation. It was too quiet, too convenient.
"Captain, I don't know about this..." Chris said.
"Shut it." Benedict said. "I've been down this route before. We'll be alright."
"I know but... something feels wrong. Captain, where's our air cover?"
"Should be... uh..." Benedict looked to the sky. He froze for a second and then tapped his COM set. "Sharkfang, this is Charlie Actual. Where the hell are you?"
There was no reply other than white noise.
"Sharkfang, report in!"
There was silence. Just the hissing that was the background noise of the universe.
"Shit." Benedict cursed. "Alright, we keep moving. Air cover is incommunicado."
Chris saw something out of the corner of his eye lurking in the shadows. It was there for a second but then it was gone.
"Pulaski, Brooks. With me." He ordered. Two Marines nodded and flanked the Sergeant.
"Sergeant! Get back in formation!" Kapplin ordered.
"I think I see something over here!" He yelled. "Give me a second!"
"Oh, I don't like this." Brooks said.
Then, they heard it. In the trees, they heard the voices.
"Ets peierd! Vyecho d'Enomen!"
"Sarge..." Pulaski
"Vai, vai, vai! Feyor!"
Chris caught the last word like a bullet. Feyor.
Fire.
"RPG! RPG!" Chris screamed.
A jet of flame erupted from the trees and lanced one of the APCs. The vehicle exploded in shrapnel and the turret popped off the chassis to land in the muddy ground with a heavy 'thud'.
"SCATTER!" Benedict ordered. The men of Charlie Platoon took his word for it and ran all over the place. Some men took up firing positions and started shooting towards where the rocket came from. "SOMEBODY TAKE DOWN THOSE BASTARDS!"
Brooks took a shot in the shoulder and went down with a grunt of pain. "Aw GODDAMMIT!"
Chris grabbed the man and pulled him to safety behind a rock. By chance, a Corpsman was already there giving some morphine shots to a Marine wounded by shrapnel. He spoke with a Draconian accent. "You leave him with me, yes! I will take care of him!"
"Don't die on me, Brooks!"
"I'm just pissed off!" the hurt Marine said.
"Good man! Sit back and relax." Vennettilli adjusted his helmet visor and located Kapplin and Benedict.
"Get your ass over here, Terran!" Benedict called to Chris. "We need to take down those RPG gunners. Now Tallahase rocket crews generally have around 5-7 men in them with two being support gunners, one being the actual launcher, and the rest being common foot soldiers."
"But where ARE the gunners?" Chris asked.
"No idea. The fog blocks our view up to around a hundred feet. Those rockets came from at least two hundred and we have no IR goggles with us." Kapplin added. "We need to go and get them ourselves!"
The second APC started hammering rounds into the fog. Giant shell casings flew from the autocannon in spinning arcs. Unfortunately this made it a huge target and soon a second beam of fire intercepted the vehicle, blowing it halfway to hell.
"Now, Marines! We only have one APC left!" Benedict Roared. "Kapplin, Winston, Polaski, you're with me! Romano, Sheppard, Aer, you're with the Sergeant! Move, gentlemen! We are NOT losing this last APC!"
The men broke the huddle and split into two fire teams. Fire Team Alpha proceeded on the left flank while Fire Team Bravo went on the right.
"I'm getting some fire on the right. They haven't spotted us yet." Benedict said. "Sergeant, what's your status?"
Bravo was keeping to the creek depression as they made their way to the NAV point on their HUDs. "We're crystal, Captain. Sounds like they're concentrated 50 meters ahead."
"Muzzle flash!" Kapplin shouted.
Fire Team Bravo stacked up against a large fallen over log. Fire Team Alpha took cover near a ravine. They took their positions just as another rocket launched, although this time the target was off. The user must have twitched because the RPG streaked up into the sky. On the plus side, it told them that the gunners were right on top of them.
"Man these guys are sloppy." Aer whispered. "Not even changing position after shooting."
"Heavy fog." Chris explained. "Restricts their view this far. But I see your point." He glanced around the side of the log, hoping that he wouldn't be spotted. "Sid, I need you to peek around your side. See if you can get eyes on any bad guys."
Romano nodded and glanced quickly. "I saw three, give or take another two."
"Yeah, I got around four or five. We going silent?"
"Nah. Let's rock 'em." Dean suggested.
Chris tapped his COM. "Charlie Actual, Bravo 3-2 Charlie, we have positive ID on five foot-mobiles on the other side of our cover. Requesting permission to engage."
"Granted, 3-2. Bang and clear. We'll clear out our end."
"Solid copy. We're ready whenever you are!"
"Bang it, gentlemen. Good luck."
Chris nodded towards Aer. "You heard the man; show them the light."
"Oorah!" Bruce said, taking a cylinder from his belt. He tapped the priming handle and tossed the grenade over the log. There was a flash and a loud clap followed by screaming of men as they were blinded. As soon as the clap sounded, the Sergeant's men jumped from cover and fired short controlled bursts into the stunned Tallies. His men sprayed full auto and cut down the rebels. To Chris, he had slipped into Conditioned Awareness. The world slowed down and became absolutely silent. He saw flashes of blood arc in slow patterns, Shell casings brushed past his ear. He could feel the heat from the barrel on his fingertips. It was an extreme sensory experience for him, even when he was killing. Then he slipped back. The gunners were dead. Dean Sheppard was pulling his knife from the chest of a rebel and Sid was reloading his gun after expending his ammo. Bruce Aer just stood proud as he was the one who threw the flashbang.
He looked to his right and saw Benedict's team utterly devastate the second RPG team. They didn't even need to flash it. The gunner was taken out in a second and from there it was a one-sided battle. Benedict himself slammed a rebel on the side of the head with his rifle butt. The Tallie's neck twisted at an odd angle and he dropped onto the dirt.
"Alright! Hell yeah!" Polaski crowed over the COM. "Those guys weren't so tough!"
"Congratulations gentlemen, we just saved the rest of the convoy. The 182nd proves once more why we kick rebel ass."
It was a bit of a Pyrrhic victory as two APCs were lost. If someone walked away from what was sure to be a fatal ambush, then it was a victory in the hearts and minds of those that pulled through. They gathered and jogged back to the ruined convoy. A few Corpsmen were tending to the wounded and dead, setting up a casualty collection center to account for everyone. The first two APCs named Oscar 1 and Oscar 2 were in ruins. They were smoking, sending an acrid cloud into the sky.
Oscar 3 was still standing. The pilot was laughing about how he was still alive after that ordeal. Benedict walked up to the driver. "This thing have a computer in it?" He asked.
"Sure." The driver nodded. "We even have a holo-panel if you need tactical data-"
"The computer will do just fine." Benedict waved. With that, he stepped inside. "Kapplin, you're in charge. Get this convoy moving back to Firestarter triple time!"
"Yes, sir!" the Lieutenant nodded. "Alright you grunts! Here's the plan! We haul our asses to FOB Firestarter before another band of rebels decides to target us again! I want no whining, no backtalk; nobody stops to take a piss without my approval!"
"Sir, yes sir!" The troops called out.
Before they could move, there was a sound of engines in the air. They sounded like atmospheric jets.
"Is that our air support?" Aer asked.
They thought it was, until the sound of the engines came to their ears. It was as if someone were continuously tearing paper. It was a ripping roar. The thing that scared the UNSC's aircraft sounded like a constant rocket roar.
"Those... aren't ours..." Chris said with a low voice.
"Oh man, let's get out of here." Kapplin said, clearly spooked. "Captain, this is Kapplin, we're hearing some really odd shit in the air that we assume are Tallie bandits on the wind. Can you do anything, sir?"
"Firestarter's an FOB; no air compliment of any kind. I'll contact 4th Picket and vector orbital asset Star Guardian to intercept enemy aircraft at those co-ord-"
Oscar 3 exploded in a blossom of flame and shrapnel. The turret blew off the body and was launched ten feet in the air. Men screamed and ran from the destroyed vehicle.
"MOTHERFUCKER!" Kapplin screamed while looking at the destroyed vehicle.
Chris was aghast. "Captain Benedict! Sir!"
Not even white noise.
Kapplin grabbed the young man's collar armor. "Get your shit together! Benedict's dead! I'm in charge now! You got that? I want you to find some cover while I call for those orbital assets!"
Chris glanced past Kapplin into the ruins of Oscar 3. He was almost sure he saw the smouldering remains of a Human being. With that, he locked his helmet visor. "Aye-aye, sir!"
With that, more missiles streaked into the trees, blowing trees up and setting numerous fires. Now they could see the Talahan fightercraft that were cheaply made atmospheric jets. They didn't have very many aerospace variants and even less space fighters. The survivors ran for cover and Corpsmen pulled the wounded under rocks or logs trying to protect themselves from the ambush. Some of the craft made nose dives and blasted the dirt with their machine guns in hopes of gunning down targets.
Chris found a crevasse in between a few rocks that formed something of an impromptu cave. Inside were a couple of Marines who thought to make good use of cover. He didn't recognize them, meaning that his squad was still out there somewhere.
"Stay here and don't think of moving." Chris commanded the other Marines.
"Hey, you don't have to tell me twice." The larger one said.
"Mayday! Mayday! This is Falcon Group from FOB Penicular calling any UNSC assets in the area! We are under attack in the jungle seven kilometers from the Livido Grasslands! Repeat, any serviceable air or orbital assets please report in!"
Chris caught the broadcast on his COM set. It sounded like Kapplin was calling in reinforcements.
"Solid copy, Falcon; UNSC Star Guardian making best speed to your location. ETA 3 minutes hard burn."
"Requesting use of Autocannons on Tallie Bandits!"
"Acknowledged. Stand by for re-entry."
Then one of the rebel fighters came in low. This one was clearly pissed in messing with the Marines and decided to burn them like the ants they were. A missile streaked from under its wing and ignited. Chris realized – with his heart skipping a few beats – that it was headed in his general direction. He realized that staying in the cave was suicide. The fragments would shred whoever was inside. He had to run. With as much speed as his gear would allow, he ran for it, and hoped for the best. In a slit second, he had to analyze the ground looking for any deformations that could save his life.
Unfortunately it wasn't looking that way. There was nothing to dampen the missile strike. The weapon impacted and heaved the ground. Heat and force blew the Marine into the air. He couldn't fight it and cried out in shock. He flew through the air and blacked out.
Chris sat up with a cold sweat. "FUCK!" He screamed.
All around him, the cold confines of one of the ship's cargo holds creaked slightly as the ship accelerated in Slipspace. There was barely any sound, which made him even more nervous.
"NICOLE, what time is it?"
"It's 3:43 in the morning." NICOLE said. Her holographic form activating and looking over him. "You had another nightmare."
"Yeah." Chris said, sitting up.
"What was it this time?"
"I was back on Talahan. It was... it was the Livido grasslands."
"What happened?"
"Livido was where I got my Purple Heart." Chris explained. "It was terrible. The whole convoy was wiped out. Only fifteen men of the original eighty made it out. The base commanders had no idea how such a ramshackle attack force made it out alive. That was also when I was promoted to XO of my platoon, technically; it was never official until... Kapplin was killed."
"It must have been terrible."
"No... that wasn't my worst day." The young man sighed.
"What was that?"
"I'll tell you when the nightmare comes along. By this rate, I'll have relived the whole war before the trip ends."
Chris had been inside of the Romulus for around seven days now. He had snuck into the ship inside a water container and used the cargo hold as a home of sorts. There was water, clothes, and even a couple of weapons in the other containers and he helped himself accordingly. NICOLE also did her part when she locked the door to the cargo hold, and posing as the ship's AI warning the deckhands that there was a minor hull breach that was being repaired. Thankfully, none of the staff had decided to take it up with the actual computer's AI. The one thing this room didn't have – at least not anymore – was food.
Chris was hungry. He hadn't eaten in three days, as it just so happened that the foodstores were on the other side of the ship. He was in the wrong place. So his stomach reminded him of this predicament.
"Oh God, I'm dying here."
"Relax, you're just fine." NICOLE said, scanning him just in case. There was a reduction in energy and his motions were getting more sluggish, the sign of the body lacking energy. "Seems water isn't doing it for you right now."
"You think?"
She looked past the sarcasm. Come to think of it, she didn't know much about the ship outside of a few compartments on either side of their cargo hold and the guard routes in the hallway. "OK, here's the plan." She said. "What if I disabled the security systems so you could go and get a decent meal?"
"We haven't gone very far before." He said, referring to a short trek where he was outside for a grand total of thirty seconds before running back inside.
"Yes, but this time I'm going to go through the bridge."
"NICOLE, I don't know; you could be discovered."
"And if I don't go, you're going to pass out! We've been here for around 8 days!"
"Yeah, and I haven't eaten for close to... what, nearly 20? I've survived so far."
"I'm going out there, Chris. You can't stop me. Relax and get comfy. I'll be back in five minutes, tops. Just give me a second to interface with the ship's wireless network."
Chris huffed. "Doubtless they'll require a code."
"...which I have just managed to crack. I'm in and downloading. See you soon." She faded from view as her program slipped into cyberspace. Chris looked at the handheld for all it was, a computer devoid of an AI. He sat against his crate and thought intently on his future meal with lusting thought.
The mind of an AI was truly a remarkable thing. It was life, but not as corporeal beings knew it. Artificial Intelligences were machine with a bit of biological nature thrown in. As an AI, NICOLE had the privilege of seeing life in a way that no other type of person could. As easy as a thought, she could slip into the realm of electronics, information, and the deepest cracks of artificial worlds.
Now, cyberspace really had no existence to it, a faux pas generated by hundreds of years of tossing a term around. A Human being can't really experience such a thing, and needs a unique environment constructed in order to take in information. An AI needed to do the exact same thing. That being said, AIs created a unique version of cyberspace for themselves in order to make things easier for them. Sometimes this was preconceived. Sometimes cyberspace randomized for an AI. NICOLE had seen multiple variations of cyberspace; some of them a collection of platforms floating in a void, some of them a structure from the past. She remembered a time when she was in the Acropolis searching for information from Zeus himself. She decided that today, she would need to create an easy way to access systems.
She pulled up a partial blueprint of the ship, specifically the starboard side where they were on. Right away, she had a collection of rooms and corridors. Using that, she dipped her toes into the information. The non-existence seemed to shimmer into being. Suddenly she was standing in a hallway. She looked around and smiled. It was the exact replica of the Romulus' passageways, complete with representations of crewmembers going about their business.
She felt the joy of walking around in the world. Even though she couldn't feel or talk to these people, she felt a sense of existence. She found herself and continued on the task at hand. She set off on a brisk run, making sure to scan other computers to gain knowledge on where she was and what lay beyond a bulkhead. In actuality she was already spread out through the whole ship, but a larger concentration was 'moving' through the corridors. She had to be careful to make sure not to seem suspicious or the ship's AI might notice the signal. Best to appear like an energy pulse.
She made her way down another hallway and through a door. She gasped and flattened herself against a wall. A massive man, standing nearly eight feet in height lumbered through the corridors dressed in tight black pants and a muscle shirt. One look at his bulging muscles and the misshapen face told her that he was a Hunter. One of the monsters had gotten on this ship for some reason. If it was by chance, it was a bad hand Fate had dealt her. When the Hunter passes her, she realized that there must be a Stalker on board as well. That was bad news as one of them might sniff the Captain out. She needed to head for the Bridge to be certain.
She followed the floor plans, past the cafeteria and past the officer's quarters into a lift. She changed the deck and made her way to the command center. It was a cluttered space roughly octagonal in shape with officers in every bit of room. The Captain sat in the center seat with her hand to her chin looking out the window. She was saying something to the other officers but NICOLE couldn't hear her. She had no need to. Looking around, NICOLE tried to find out where one would access the Hunter/Killer info. She stopped dead, frightened.
A red spectre hovered in the corner of her vision. It was staring right at her. She turned slowly to face it. It had the body of a woman, but it was wearing a thick veil. Twin pinpricks of red light were visible in the shadows. NICOLE started to get scared. It was the other AI, and it was starting to catch on. This AI couldn't see her – at least not yet. It was getting suspicious though. She needed to act quickly. NICOLE accessed the Life Support console and tried to get any erratic lifesigns that would indicate the presence of a Stalker. This would include irregular breathing patterns, quick heartbeat, and rapid movements. She found them in port cargo hold six, approximately five of them. She started to access the camera.
There was a hard screech. She whirled around and saw the spectre move towards her. The red dots of light serving for eyes were peering straight at her. NICOLE started to panic. The other AI had noticed her. She had to send out false information and shield herself, making her look like a burst of electricity or something. She threw up firewalls, masqueraded as official files, anything that would stop this monster from detecting her!
The beast was closer now. The screech was getting louder. NICOLE thought about screaming, but she held on for now. She invented a report that excess energy had been routed to the bridge by accident. To sell this, she moved part of her run-time to the other part of the ship. She prayed to God or whatever being out there that this would work.
She was so close that she could see the facial features of the beast. It was the face of a stone angel. NICOLE could see the cracks in the stone and waited.
The screeching reached a peak, and then stopped. The AI peered at NICOLE for a second; surely thinking that something had to have been there, and then turned away and stood next to the Captain.
NICOLE felt triumphant! She had masked her presence from the ship's AI and could continue, but if she slipped up again, she wasn't sure she could cover her ass that time. She re-accessed Life Support and located the cargo hold. A thought later, she was there. Five boxes with Stalkers in them rumbled about with mechanical limbs scratching at the floor and eyes frantically darting. NICOLE realized that these Stalkers would be a threat to her and the Captain if they were called out to find the man. She decided they needed to be put out of commission. She made sure all of the alarms were off before sealing the cargo port and masking her presence yet again. Then, she slowly started to pump the air out of the room. It was a slow process, but she couldn't risk a fast move without being detected again.
The Stalkers didn't notice the loss of pressure at first, but after the air started to grow thinner, they started to bang on the floor and on their cages, desperately trying to free themselves. It was all in vain though. Soon the room was nearly devoid of air. The monstrosities flopped in their cages with saliva boiling from their mouths or blood dripping from their eyes. It was clear that they were dead from Asphyxia. NICOLE considered it nearly humane considering all they went through in life. Now that one loose end was tied up, she had to get rid of the Hunter. All in good time though.
Chris was doing pushups. Regularly, the ship had its gravity turned off in this section, resulting in free-fall. The best way to prevent bone degradation was to regularly exercise, and Chris decided to do that by doing extensive calisthenics when gravity was on. He was currently on push-up 43, barely even feeling the weight thanks to massive doses of punishment from his sergeants in boot camp. He was also thinking. He knew that there was high alert when he stowed away on the ship in the first place. It was entirely possible that the UNSC sent out alerts on his escape, and while they didn't know which ship he was on or where he was heading, it was plausible that they contacted Earth in the panic. So he would need to be ready for a search of the ship, and be ready to kill if he had to.
"This is bullshit."
"I agree, it's all bullshit!" He looked up in shock and saw to his horror, Captain Roswell Benedict standing in front of him. The only thing was, he wasn't all there. One arm was missing, an eye was missing, and parts of his skin were melted away by fire.
"Captain!" Chris said getting to his feet.
"Don't Captain me! You've got much bigger problems right now!"
"I... why are you here? You're dead!"
"And I have come back from the dead to whip you into shape! Stand at attention!"
"Yes, sir!" Chris said, snapping to.
"Good man!" Benedict said with remaining hand on his hip. "Look at you. Captain already. I hate to admit it, but you made me proud."
"Sir, I did my duty to the Corps."
"Hmm... looks like the Corps isn't treating you too kind now."
"Sir, permission to speak?"
"Granted." Benedict almost growled this; a side effect of his melted trachea.
"I was betrayed by the Corps. I was betrayed by ONI."
"Did you... resist?"
"Yes sir. It would have meant my possible execution."
Benedict looked at Chris with his remaining eye. "Sergeant, I don't believe once under my command you have ever refused an order."
"Sir, this was not-"
"You refused an order from a superior officer and did not comply! You are insubordinate! You ran. Admit it, you're a traitor!"
"Sir, I am no traitor!"
Suddenly, Benedict lunged out and grabbed the young man's neck. Chris was being suffocated by Benedict's bony hand. He glared into his former CO's face, shocked that this was happening. There was no emotion on the Captain's face as he gripped harder.
"I can't believe a defiant man like you could have served in the 182! You disgust me!"
Chris tried to pry the hand off, but his vision started to black out. "Captain! Please!"
"Say you're a traitor!" The dead man barked. "Say you turned your back on all you've ever known!"
"I AM NOT A TRAITOR!"
"BULLSHIT!"
"CHRISTOPHER!"
NICOLE' s voice echoed through the cargo hold.
"NICOLE, help!" Chris croaked. "He's got me!"
"STOP IT!" she screamed.
Then he blinked. Benedict was gone. The bony, deteriorating man was gone, and all that was there was his right hand clamped on his throat. He looked at his hand for a split second and then let go, scared. "Oh Christ. Oh God."
NICOLE's hologram popped up and studied him. "What did you just do?"
"I... I saw my dead Captain. He told me I was a traitor, and then he tried to kill me."
"You tried to kill yourself!"
"I... I saw..." He studied his right hand. "I... tried to kill myself. Oh Jesus, this is getting worse. Now my hallucinations are actually interacting with me."
"You need serious help." NICOLE said. "I hope that you don't snap and actually... do it."
Chris looked at his hand again, flexing it. "I hope I don't..." He then averted his gaze and decided to leave it in the past. "How was your trip?"
Despite the lack of subtlety, NICOLE decided to change the subject.
"Um, I took a look around the ship. Apparently the food is in the opposite cargo hold. I can get you there with the access codes I picked up. Just a heads-up: I found a couple of Stalkers in my search. I... I killed them."
To her surprise, Chris nodded approvingly. "Good work. That makes things easier for us. They can blame it on a hull breach. If you're in the system again, I recommend cracking one of the airlocks open to sell the deception."
This was not what she expected. It appeared that Chris was more desensitized to killing UNSC personnel after being forced to do so over the last week or so. I guess that's what happens when your comrades turn on you. "OK. Do you have a uniform?"
"Yeah, here's some coveralls. No ship name on it though. As long as I can keep my distance, I should get by just fine."
"Yeah, make sure you find some deodorant. After all that time, you must reek."
Chris took a whiff. "Eesh, I guess I have been a bit careless. Sally would kill me."
"Alright. The sooner the better. We don't want that Hunter catching you."
"The Hunter? You didn't say anything about that."
"Just try to avoid him. He should be easy to spot."
A few minutes later, the disgraced Marine zipped up his stolen uniform and put a cap on his head. "Never thought I'd find myself in the Navy."
"Don't get too comfortable. Try to blend in."
"You mean walk like I have a pole up my ass?"
"If that's what it takes." NICOLE chuckled. "Just don't get too close to anyone, and don't look suspicious."
"Roger." Chris nodded. NICOLE unlocked the door, and Chris walked into the hallway. Thankfully, nobody was there. As a cargo vessel, the Romulus would probably have more space than people aboard. Although one could never be too sure, especially with the Hunter. He consulted NICOLE. It wasn't far to the port side of the ship, roughly 100 meters as the crow flies. However, he needed to be discrete.
Chris headed aft towards the engines. He could feel the rumbling get stronger. He wasn't going to the engine room though. His stomach was leading the way, and that was towards the other cargo hold. He passed a Lieutenant and saluted him to keep appearances. The officer responded accordingly, although a bit lazily. Chris rounded a corner which took him through a long hallway nearly the size of a football field. Two Marines were leaning against the wall chuckling at a joke. Chris didn't make eye contact, but gulped as he saw that they too were from the 182nd Marine Infantry Division, but they were from 19th Battalion. They wouldn't recognize Chris, but they sure wouldn't strike up a casual conversation. Chris realized that his beard might do more harm than good because of dress code. He lowered his cap to hide his face, just in case.
He followed the corridors before he was in front of the cargo hold door.
"NICOLE, can you hack the door?"
"Already done, Chris. Just be careful. Don't go overboard."
"Relax. I'm just going to make a sandwich or something."
The lock hissed open, and the door slid apart for him. The cargo hold beckoned him forward and he accepted. NICOLE closed the door and locked it. "Alright, much to your heart's content." She told him.
"Not so fast..." Chris said. He carefully checked around to make sure that no techs were on duty. Satisfied, he then loosened up and looked for a crate of food. Most of the metal containers were airtight so that the food on the inside wouldn't be spoiled, but perhaps he could find some regularly stored containers. After about fifteen minutes of searching, he found a container of fruits and vegetables.
"Jackpot! They even have the green apples!" Chris said in triumph. He shone the apple on his coveralls and took a bite. It felt good to have something to eat. It tasted like heaven. The apple was no more in less than ten seconds. Soon he was digging in for another.
"Jeez, you think you could slow it down?" NICOLE asked. "How do you think you can explain the waste?"
"Rats?" Chris suggested between bites. "Never failed before." He finished the second and paused. "Say, how far away from Earth are we?"
"You asked me that yesterday."
"Just tell me again."
"We are actually a couple hours away from exiting the slipstream. I suggest we get ready for our escape plan."
The plan was simple. Once the cargo ship had emerged from Slipspace, the best thing to do would be to locate a lifeboat and jettison it with them aboard. That way they could ride it down to Earth mixed in with regular traffic. Where they landed though was an entirely different story.
"Remind me again what we should do if we exit over an urban center?"
"Head for the city limits. I'd rather we crash in the suburbs if anything. Regardless, once we touch down, we're going to want to clear the area fa-" She stopped. She felt that someone was opening the lock on the door. "HIDE!" She hissed.
Chris chose a few crates to hid behind and just sat motionless as he listened to the lock opening. Deep footsteps entered the hold, confirming that whoever entered the hold was big.
"You think I wouldn't know when you snuffed out my Stalkers?"
"Oh shit." NICOLE cursed quietly. "Oh no..."
"You just offed 'em like they were dogs? I know you're in here. I know you're in here and I'm going to peel your skin off bit by bit!" There was a noise that sounded like scratching metal.
"Is that a knife?" Chris whispered, scared.
"Negative. That's a sword!" NICOLE corrected.
The scratching noise grew to a high volume and then the sound of two pieces of metal hitting the deck echoed through the hold.
"Please tell me what that was." Chris whispered.
"You're not going to like it."
"Just get it over with."
"Chris, that is a twenty inch serrated blade tipped with diamond and nanolattice. Chris, he just bisected a cargo container in one swipe!"
"Why the hell did you tell me?"
"YOU TOLD ME TO!" she hissed.
"SHOW YOURSELF!" The Hunter screamed. "I'm sick and tired of tracking you all over space!"
Chris was running out of time. It wouldn't be long before this man found him and made good on his promise. He needed a way to level the playing field.
"You need new tactics." Another vision said to him. Dean Sheppard knelt next to him smiling.
"Oh God no. Not now." Chris tried to whisper.
"What?" NICOLE asked.
"Sometimes the most obvious route is the best. What gives us our edge as Marines?"
"...we can fight in space!"
Dean smiled warmly and then vanished. "It was all you on this one." The vision said.
"NICOLE, can you disable the artificial gravity in this compartment?"
"Yes I can! Tapping in... disabling graviton flow... we have micrograv. Rock him when ready. Just brace yourself."
Chris checked his magazine and prepared to fire.
The Hunter took another step and nearly pitched over. "WHAT'S THIS?" He roared in shock. "You trying to piss me off?"
"No." Chris said, emerging from cover and aiming Rouge's pistol. "Just tying up loose ends."
The weapon barked, sending the 10mm round into the Hunter's shoulder. The deformed face contorted in rage and made him tumble. Chris nearly lost his footing too. For all the hope and planning of the pre ass-kicking one liner, all the round did was make the Hunter angry. Queensbury Rules be damned. Now was the time to kick him while he was down. Chris emptied the whole magazine into the Hunter who seemed to just float in the air and was pushed by bullet impacts. When the magazine went dry, Chris dropped it from the gun and inserted a new one. He pushed off from his wall and moved to another.
Amazingly, the Hunter wasn't dead. If anything, the bullets just served to empower the man, like he absorbed the lead for energy. Using the monster sword, the Hunter pushed off from the deck and surged towards the Captain. Chris jumped, using the momentum to carry him to the roof. Chris blasted half a magazine into the Hunter, to no effect.
The monster chuckled. "That it?" He growled. Then out of nowhere, there was a slash. Chris' coveralls were cut and blood sprayed on globules. Red orbs floated in microgravity. He felt burning pain in his chest and tried to stop the bleeding. Chris twirled in the air and let go of his gun. The Hunter smelt the scent of copper in the air and then drew in for the kill. Chris had one last trick up his sleeve.
"NICOLE, LOCALIZE GRAVITY INCREASE!"
"What?" She said. She had absolutely no idea what he was saying.
"DO IT!"
She spent a nanosecond wondering what he was babbling about, but then she realized! Some ships had a system that forced graviton particles in a direction that simulated a 1G environment in areas as small as a foot. She did a quick search of the systems of the ship – making sure not to alert the AI – and saw that there was a compartment by compartment system. Barely thinking, she tripped it.
The Hunter was pinned to the floor at once. "NO!" He screamed. "NO! YOU CAN'T BEAT ME SO EASILY!" The monster cried in disbelief.
Chris clutched his chest in pain. "NICOLE, crush the bastard."
In a movement of coldness, she said, "How fast?"
"Let him think about it." The captain said with cruelty.
"On it."
Chris ripped off the coverall sleeve and used it as a bandage for his chest, and touched down on the deck just in time to see the man die. He roared in pain as he was slowly crushed by the flow of particles. Chris stood motionless as he heard bones crack and crumble. The roaring this thing produced was utterly frightening, but still he stood there watching and waiting for this thing to die. It took twenty minutes. The arms and legs were flattened, and blood was leaking out of the Hunter's eyes, ears and mouth, until he heard a clearly audible snap where the neck finally broke, and then he was still. Chris watched still for any sign of movement. Only minor reflexes were seen, but when even those stopped, then did the Captain relax.
"I can't believe we did that." NICOLE said. "I never thought I would kill something in that way. That was... horrible."
"I was lucky to walk away from it." Chris winced, touching the now-red piece of cloth. "I need a medical kit."
"There aren't any in here. There is a clinic a deck up from here. Only staffed by one person. The rest are in cryosleep."
"Good." Chris said, walking to the door. He made sure the hallway was clear, looked one last time at the crushed body, and went on his way.
The journey was quiet. Nobody was alerted by the scuffle, and almost everyone was in cryosleep. This meant that there was pretty much nobody to stop him as he went to the clinic. He was sure to take the stairs so that he wouldn't get any surprises from passers-by. Deck 3 was where the clinic was at, and he walked through the door, pretending to be in much worse pain than he was in.
"Help me!"
The man at the desk dropped his pen. "Jesus Christ! What happened?"
"I was working in one of the cargo holds and got slashed from one of the movers!"
The doctor looked at the wound. "Looks pretty deep! You got cut good! Come here, sit down." He led the Marine to a chair in the far corner and opened a medical supply kit.
"I'm amazed you could get here with that. You should have called me the moment you got it."
"Sorry." Chris said. "Things were pretty hectic."
"No problem." The doctor said. He tapped a needle. "This is a coagulant to stop the blood flow. You'll feel a bit of constriction in the chest, but that will go away." He put the cocktail in Chris' arm and wrapped a length of dressing around the wounded man's abdomen. When he was finished, he looked over Chris' body, and spotted his dog tags. "You're a Marine?"
"Ah..."
"What were you doing working in the cargo hold? Marines aren't supposed to do that! Where's your ship patch and nametag? Who are you?"
Chris head butted the medic.
"I'm new."
"Nice shot." NICOLE said. "Now where do you suggest we hide the body?"
"Somewhere where someone wouldn't look for him. We don't want him waking up and spoiling our escape."
"Try a storage cabinet." She suggested. There just happened to be a suitable candidate. It looked like a locker on steroids and was four feet deep. It was the perfect place to hide a body.
"Shit, I forgot: the cameras!"
"I've tried my hardest to make it seem like we were never in here." NICOLE said. "Don't know if it worked, but the AI can't monitor every little thing on the ship, and Security must have hundreds of screens to go through. Needless to say, we'd better hurry."
Chris felt much better now that the coagulant was holding him up. He marched confidently with pistol stowed safely. His new objective was the escape pods, which were actually about a hundred feet away, which passed in seconds. Getting in was easy enough, and as expected, nobody was there. He found one of the vehicles and slipped inside and closed his eyes waiting for the jump to end.
"NICOLE, time to realspace transition?"
"Thirty minutes."
"We want to time our launch with the transition so that we can hide our emission."
"Excellent deduction. Exactly what I was thinking."
He waited with white knuckles on the control console for the moment to come.
"Stand by..." NICOLE whispered. "Stand by..."
A shriek filled the cockpit.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?" The Captain roared.
"They found us! We have to launch now!"
The ship's AI had noticed a few odd system changes throughout the ship and got curious. It looked into the matter and discovered the stowaway. It had personally followed him from one side of the ship to another in a sort of reconstruction, and deduced correctly where they were.
"Chris! Launch the lifeboat!"
"Will we make the transition?"
"Anywhere's better than here!"
He tapped the release, and with a bang, the escape pod jettisoned from the cargo ship into Slispace. Because the pod didn't have a drive, it immediately reverted to normalspace, rocking violently as it made the trip back to reality. Chris bashed his head off the windshield, putting a small crack in the reinforced glass. With a flash, the appeared not fifty thousand kilometres from Earth, coasting on momentum. The Romulus went on ahead, confused on where the pod went.
"We did it!" Chris said with delight.
"We're not out of this yet. We just have to let gravity do its job, and we'll be back on Terra Firma in time for dinner."
May 20th, 3233, 1400 hours
Talahan V, Eta Cassiopeia system
Livido Grassplains, Fratelli Continent
SIX YEARS AGO...
The normally hectic days on Talahan V during the war seemed somewhat absent today of all days. The skies which were normally filled with exploding flak and the whining of aerial combat were empty. Instead, the golden disc of Eta Cassiopeia shone down on the Livado Grassplains. The locals had a name for this disc. In the English-derived tongue, the sun was known as Rhaydyaent ('Radiant' in Earth English), and it certainly lived up to its name. The sun sent its energy to a slowly patrolling group of Marines and vehicles.
This was Falcon Group, a small detachment of Marines and vehicles that was moving across the plains. Quite often the firebases of Penicular and Firestarter traded vehicles and personnel through the grassplains. Today it was Falcon's turn to make the journey across the Livido.
The man leading the movement was Roswell Benedict, who was the only captain in the 50-man platoon. Also in the movement were four A270 Kit Fox APCs; Their 30mm Autocannons cast imposing shadows in the dirt. In a way, they resembled the ancient Scorpion tanks of times past, but they were much faster than any of the old vehicles. Benedict heaved his rifle over his shoulder and looked into the air. The sun was high in the sky but the moons were starting to set. One of the ice-covered moons shone in the light of the sun. In many ways, it reminded Roswell about home back in Orwell on Mars. He took a drag on his cigarette and called his lieutenant.
"Kapplin! Get over here!"
The lanky man with dirty blond tousled hair and a hooked nose ran up to the officer.
"Yes, sir?"
"Where's the rest of my squad?"
"Uh... they're back there somewhere. Slacking on the hustle." Kapplin looked over his shoulder.
"Make sure that they get their asses into formation before we're back in the jungle. Got it?"
"No problem, sir. Vennettilli! Where are you?"
The young Sergeant had violated one of the sacred rules passed down from Remus Stacker, the Unholy One and his old DI. Rule 74 stated, 'A Marine is a one man wrecking crew, court system, judge, jury, and executioner. A Marine is not to build ties for the fear of having them torn apart by the machine of war. Abide or pay the price.'
Chris had broken the rule and paid that price quite severely. His best friend Charles Madison had died in his arms before the evac birds could arrive. Chris remembered the pain on his friend's face as both his legs had been blown off by a mine, and several shards of shrapnel were wedged in his chest. He remembered trying to comfort him as he was clearly dying. He offered to remove the shrapnel with his bare hands and give Charles a chance, but by then, he had slipped into unconsciousness. From there, he died without waking up again.
He was possibly skirting the boundary of doing it again. He was chatting with other members of his squad, trying to get their thoughts on the situation. He was chatting with Dean Shepard, who was as close to a friend as he had on this swampball.
"So, what, this is the third troop movement this week?" Dean asked.
"The Commandant wants as many shared troops as possible. Because Firestarter and Penicular are so close, it's enough to keep him happy." Chris said.
"Well are they worried about an ambush?"
Chris shook his head. "Nah. The Livido Plains are relatively flat or somewhat rolling. No place to hide an entire army. Besides, we have this corridor secure."
"Ah, says who?" Dean asked.
"Overlord." the Sergeant said, referencing the Ops officer who was coordinating tactical info.
"And if Overlord came down here and said that to your face, would you believe it?"
"He's my superior officer."
Suddenly, Dean turned to face the noncom. "Listen here, before I was in the Corps, I worked as a cop on Galbadia."
"Galbadia?"
"Yeah, the planet famous for the Reckland Riots."
"Oh! THAT Galbadia."
"My job was to haul people in and determine whether they were giving me bullshit or not. I got pretty good at it after five years, able to sniff out the smallest stench and use it against them."
"So, what does this have to do with Command?"
"Command may say something to you, but it's up to you whether or not you want to believe it. My superiors always thought one thing and I wasn't afraid to show my apprehension towards their decisions."
"Maybe so." Chris said. "But I'm scared to death of standing up to Benedict and Kapplin."
"You want to know a secret, boyo?" Dean asked.
"Sure."
"I am too." He smiled nervously. "The trick is to tell that part of your mind to shut the fuck up and square away."
"SERGEANT!" Lieutenant Kapplin yelled.
"Oh shit." Chris gasped. "Yes sir!" He said running up to the officer.
"What's the status of the men?"
"Nobody's reporting any problems. All twenty fireteams are reporting nominal. Nothing out of the ordinary."
"Any of the APCs giving any issues?"
"Not that I am aware of, sir; I think they were tuned up fine before we moved out."
Kapplin nodded. "Alright, get the men up here in formation. We are less than five minutes from heading back in the jungle. I want you all ready."
"Aye-aye, sir!" Chris saluted. "Guys! Stack up on me. Lieutenant wants us ready for jungle re-entry!"
The squad complied, albeit with a few groans. It was customary for them to be in formation for just about anything from drills, to movements, to going to the bathroom. Some in the Corps called Roswell Benedict the ultimate hardass. They weren't incorrect.
Within minutes, the convoy had entered the jungle. The calm and cool air turned sticky and dark. Strange alien birds cawed in the air and odd plants snaked all over the forest floor.
"Damn, are we on the same planet?" Corporal Sid Romano asked.
"Nah, Sid." Dean replied. "We're in hell."
Kapplin looked around. "Hey, is someone begging for a boot in the ass?"
"Hell no, sir." Sheppard said with a smug smile.
"Then wipe that disgusting grin off your face before I make Winston break your face." He pointed threateningly towards the Marine.
"Aye-aye sir."
Jeff Winston "The Silent" just looked on. He never really spoke unless he was accepting an order or reporting a marksman kill. Other than that, he made less noise than a mouse in a chapel. Some of the guys in Charlie Platoon thought he had a social disorder, PTSD or something. It certainly wouldn't be surprising considering the line of work he was in. However, some suspected that Winston had a sense of detachment, as most of his kills were at range, and he didn't have to see the light leave his target's eyes.
They walked another three minutes before Chris just felt something... wrong. Most servicemen developed a sense where they could anticipate danger, and this was a perfect example of a hazardous situation. It was too quiet, too convenient.
"Captain, I don't know about this..." Chris said.
"Shut it." Benedict said. "I've been down this route before. We'll be alright."
"I know but... something feels wrong. Captain, where's our air cover?"
"Should be... uh..." Benedict looked to the sky. He froze for a second and then tapped his COM set. "Sharkfang, this is Charlie Actual. Where the hell are you?"
There was no reply other than white noise.
"Sharkfang, report in!"
There was silence. Just the hissing that was the background noise of the universe.
"Shit." Benedict cursed. "Alright, we keep moving. Air cover is incommunicado."
Chris saw something out of the corner of his eye lurking in the shadows. It was there for a second but then it was gone.
"Pulaski, Brooks. With me." He ordered. Two Marines nodded and flanked the Sergeant.
"Sergeant! Get back in formation!" Kapplin ordered.
"I think I see something over here!" He yelled. "Give me a second!"
"Oh, I don't like this." Brooks said.
Then, they heard it. In the trees, they heard the voices.
"Ets peierd! Vyecho d'Enomen!"
"Sarge..." Pulaski
"Vai, vai, vai! Feyor!"
Chris caught the last word like a bullet. Feyor.
Fire.
"RPG! RPG!" Chris screamed.
A jet of flame erupted from the trees and lanced one of the APCs. The vehicle exploded in shrapnel and the turret popped off the chassis to land in the muddy ground with a heavy 'thud'.
"SCATTER!" Benedict ordered. The men of Charlie Platoon took his word for it and ran all over the place. Some men took up firing positions and started shooting towards where the rocket came from. "SOMEBODY TAKE DOWN THOSE BASTARDS!"
Brooks took a shot in the shoulder and went down with a grunt of pain. "Aw GODDAMMIT!"
Chris grabbed the man and pulled him to safety behind a rock. By chance, a Corpsman was already there giving some morphine shots to a Marine wounded by shrapnel. He spoke with a Draconian accent. "You leave him with me, yes! I will take care of him!"
"Don't die on me, Brooks!"
"I'm just pissed off!" the hurt Marine said.
"Good man! Sit back and relax." Vennettilli adjusted his helmet visor and located Kapplin and Benedict.
"Get your ass over here, Terran!" Benedict called to Chris. "We need to take down those RPG gunners. Now Tallahase rocket crews generally have around 5-7 men in them with two being support gunners, one being the actual launcher, and the rest being common foot soldiers."
"But where ARE the gunners?" Chris asked.
"No idea. The fog blocks our view up to around a hundred feet. Those rockets came from at least two hundred and we have no IR goggles with us." Kapplin added. "We need to go and get them ourselves!"
The second APC started hammering rounds into the fog. Giant shell casings flew from the autocannon in spinning arcs. Unfortunately this made it a huge target and soon a second beam of fire intercepted the vehicle, blowing it halfway to hell.
"Now, Marines! We only have one APC left!" Benedict Roared. "Kapplin, Winston, Polaski, you're with me! Romano, Sheppard, Aer, you're with the Sergeant! Move, gentlemen! We are NOT losing this last APC!"
The men broke the huddle and split into two fire teams. Fire Team Alpha proceeded on the left flank while Fire Team Bravo went on the right.
"I'm getting some fire on the right. They haven't spotted us yet." Benedict said. "Sergeant, what's your status?"
Bravo was keeping to the creek depression as they made their way to the NAV point on their HUDs. "We're crystal, Captain. Sounds like they're concentrated 50 meters ahead."
"Muzzle flash!" Kapplin shouted.
Fire Team Bravo stacked up against a large fallen over log. Fire Team Alpha took cover near a ravine. They took their positions just as another rocket launched, although this time the target was off. The user must have twitched because the RPG streaked up into the sky. On the plus side, it told them that the gunners were right on top of them.
"Man these guys are sloppy." Aer whispered. "Not even changing position after shooting."
"Heavy fog." Chris explained. "Restricts their view this far. But I see your point." He glanced around the side of the log, hoping that he wouldn't be spotted. "Sid, I need you to peek around your side. See if you can get eyes on any bad guys."
Romano nodded and glanced quickly. "I saw three, give or take another two."
"Yeah, I got around four or five. We going silent?"
"Nah. Let's rock 'em." Dean suggested.
Chris tapped his COM. "Charlie Actual, Bravo 3-2 Charlie, we have positive ID on five foot-mobiles on the other side of our cover. Requesting permission to engage."
"Granted, 3-2. Bang and clear. We'll clear out our end."
"Solid copy. We're ready whenever you are!"
"Bang it, gentlemen. Good luck."
Chris nodded towards Aer. "You heard the man; show them the light."
"Oorah!" Bruce said, taking a cylinder from his belt. He tapped the priming handle and tossed the grenade over the log. There was a flash and a loud clap followed by screaming of men as they were blinded. As soon as the clap sounded, the Sergeant's men jumped from cover and fired short controlled bursts into the stunned Tallies. His men sprayed full auto and cut down the rebels. To Chris, he had slipped into Conditioned Awareness. The world slowed down and became absolutely silent. He saw flashes of blood arc in slow patterns, Shell casings brushed past his ear. He could feel the heat from the barrel on his fingertips. It was an extreme sensory experience for him, even when he was killing. Then he slipped back. The gunners were dead. Dean Sheppard was pulling his knife from the chest of a rebel and Sid was reloading his gun after expending his ammo. Bruce Aer just stood proud as he was the one who threw the flashbang.
He looked to his right and saw Benedict's team utterly devastate the second RPG team. They didn't even need to flash it. The gunner was taken out in a second and from there it was a one-sided battle. Benedict himself slammed a rebel on the side of the head with his rifle butt. The Tallie's neck twisted at an odd angle and he dropped onto the dirt.
"Alright! Hell yeah!" Polaski crowed over the COM. "Those guys weren't so tough!"
"Congratulations gentlemen, we just saved the rest of the convoy. The 182nd proves once more why we kick rebel ass."
It was a bit of a Pyrrhic victory as two APCs were lost. If someone walked away from what was sure to be a fatal ambush, then it was a victory in the hearts and minds of those that pulled through. They gathered and jogged back to the ruined convoy. A few Corpsmen were tending to the wounded and dead, setting up a casualty collection center to account for everyone. The first two APCs named Oscar 1 and Oscar 2 were in ruins. They were smoking, sending an acrid cloud into the sky.
Oscar 3 was still standing. The pilot was laughing about how he was still alive after that ordeal. Benedict walked up to the driver. "This thing have a computer in it?" He asked.
"Sure." The driver nodded. "We even have a holo-panel if you need tactical data-"
"The computer will do just fine." Benedict waved. With that, he stepped inside. "Kapplin, you're in charge. Get this convoy moving back to Firestarter triple time!"
"Yes, sir!" the Lieutenant nodded. "Alright you grunts! Here's the plan! We haul our asses to FOB Firestarter before another band of rebels decides to target us again! I want no whining, no backtalk; nobody stops to take a piss without my approval!"
"Sir, yes sir!" The troops called out.
Before they could move, there was a sound of engines in the air. They sounded like atmospheric jets.
"Is that our air support?" Aer asked.
They thought it was, until the sound of the engines came to their ears. It was as if someone were continuously tearing paper. It was a ripping roar. The thing that scared the UNSC's aircraft sounded like a constant rocket roar.
"Those... aren't ours..." Chris said with a low voice.
"Oh man, let's get out of here." Kapplin said, clearly spooked. "Captain, this is Kapplin, we're hearing some really odd shit in the air that we assume are Tallie bandits on the wind. Can you do anything, sir?"
"Firestarter's an FOB; no air compliment of any kind. I'll contact 4th Picket and vector orbital asset Star Guardian to intercept enemy aircraft at those co-ord-"
Oscar 3 exploded in a blossom of flame and shrapnel. The turret blew off the body and was launched ten feet in the air. Men screamed and ran from the destroyed vehicle.
"MOTHERFUCKER!" Kapplin screamed while looking at the destroyed vehicle.
Chris was aghast. "Captain Benedict! Sir!"
Not even white noise.
Kapplin grabbed the young man's collar armor. "Get your shit together! Benedict's dead! I'm in charge now! You got that? I want you to find some cover while I call for those orbital assets!"
Chris glanced past Kapplin into the ruins of Oscar 3. He was almost sure he saw the smouldering remains of a Human being. With that, he locked his helmet visor. "Aye-aye, sir!"
With that, more missiles streaked into the trees, blowing trees up and setting numerous fires. Now they could see the Talahan fightercraft that were cheaply made atmospheric jets. They didn't have very many aerospace variants and even less space fighters. The survivors ran for cover and Corpsmen pulled the wounded under rocks or logs trying to protect themselves from the ambush. Some of the craft made nose dives and blasted the dirt with their machine guns in hopes of gunning down targets.
Chris found a crevasse in between a few rocks that formed something of an impromptu cave. Inside were a couple of Marines who thought to make good use of cover. He didn't recognize them, meaning that his squad was still out there somewhere.
"Stay here and don't think of moving." Chris commanded the other Marines.
"Hey, you don't have to tell me twice." The larger one said.
"Mayday! Mayday! This is Falcon Group from FOB Penicular calling any UNSC assets in the area! We are under attack in the jungle seven kilometers from the Livido Grasslands! Repeat, any serviceable air or orbital assets please report in!"
Chris caught the broadcast on his COM set. It sounded like Kapplin was calling in reinforcements.
"Solid copy, Falcon; UNSC Star Guardian making best speed to your location. ETA 3 minutes hard burn."
"Requesting use of Autocannons on Tallie Bandits!"
"Acknowledged. Stand by for re-entry."
Then one of the rebel fighters came in low. This one was clearly pissed in messing with the Marines and decided to burn them like the ants they were. A missile streaked from under its wing and ignited. Chris realized – with his heart skipping a few beats – that it was headed in his general direction. He realized that staying in the cave was suicide. The fragments would shred whoever was inside. He had to run. With as much speed as his gear would allow, he ran for it, and hoped for the best. In a slit second, he had to analyze the ground looking for any deformations that could save his life.
Unfortunately it wasn't looking that way. There was nothing to dampen the missile strike. The weapon impacted and heaved the ground. Heat and force blew the Marine into the air. He couldn't fight it and cried out in shock. He flew through the air and blacked out.
Chris sat up with a cold sweat. "FUCK!" He screamed.
All around him, the cold confines of one of the ship's cargo holds creaked slightly as the ship accelerated in Slipspace. There was barely any sound, which made him even more nervous.
"NICOLE, what time is it?"
"It's 3:43 in the morning." NICOLE said. Her holographic form activating and looking over him. "You had another nightmare."
"Yeah." Chris said, sitting up.
"What was it this time?"
"I was back on Talahan. It was... it was the Livido grasslands."
"What happened?"
"Livido was where I got my Purple Heart." Chris explained. "It was terrible. The whole convoy was wiped out. Only fifteen men of the original eighty made it out. The base commanders had no idea how such a ramshackle attack force made it out alive. That was also when I was promoted to XO of my platoon, technically; it was never official until... Kapplin was killed."
"It must have been terrible."
"No... that wasn't my worst day." The young man sighed.
"What was that?"
"I'll tell you when the nightmare comes along. By this rate, I'll have relived the whole war before the trip ends."
Chris had been inside of the Romulus for around seven days now. He had snuck into the ship inside a water container and used the cargo hold as a home of sorts. There was water, clothes, and even a couple of weapons in the other containers and he helped himself accordingly. NICOLE also did her part when she locked the door to the cargo hold, and posing as the ship's AI warning the deckhands that there was a minor hull breach that was being repaired. Thankfully, none of the staff had decided to take it up with the actual computer's AI. The one thing this room didn't have – at least not anymore – was food.
Chris was hungry. He hadn't eaten in three days, as it just so happened that the foodstores were on the other side of the ship. He was in the wrong place. So his stomach reminded him of this predicament.
"Oh God, I'm dying here."
"Relax, you're just fine." NICOLE said, scanning him just in case. There was a reduction in energy and his motions were getting more sluggish, the sign of the body lacking energy. "Seems water isn't doing it for you right now."
"You think?"
She looked past the sarcasm. Come to think of it, she didn't know much about the ship outside of a few compartments on either side of their cargo hold and the guard routes in the hallway. "OK, here's the plan." She said. "What if I disabled the security systems so you could go and get a decent meal?"
"We haven't gone very far before." He said, referring to a short trek where he was outside for a grand total of thirty seconds before running back inside.
"Yes, but this time I'm going to go through the bridge."
"NICOLE, I don't know; you could be discovered."
"And if I don't go, you're going to pass out! We've been here for around 8 days!"
"Yeah, and I haven't eaten for close to... what, nearly 20? I've survived so far."
"I'm going out there, Chris. You can't stop me. Relax and get comfy. I'll be back in five minutes, tops. Just give me a second to interface with the ship's wireless network."
Chris huffed. "Doubtless they'll require a code."
"...which I have just managed to crack. I'm in and downloading. See you soon." She faded from view as her program slipped into cyberspace. Chris looked at the handheld for all it was, a computer devoid of an AI. He sat against his crate and thought intently on his future meal with lusting thought.
The mind of an AI was truly a remarkable thing. It was life, but not as corporeal beings knew it. Artificial Intelligences were machine with a bit of biological nature thrown in. As an AI, NICOLE had the privilege of seeing life in a way that no other type of person could. As easy as a thought, she could slip into the realm of electronics, information, and the deepest cracks of artificial worlds.
Now, cyberspace really had no existence to it, a faux pas generated by hundreds of years of tossing a term around. A Human being can't really experience such a thing, and needs a unique environment constructed in order to take in information. An AI needed to do the exact same thing. That being said, AIs created a unique version of cyberspace for themselves in order to make things easier for them. Sometimes this was preconceived. Sometimes cyberspace randomized for an AI. NICOLE had seen multiple variations of cyberspace; some of them a collection of platforms floating in a void, some of them a structure from the past. She remembered a time when she was in the Acropolis searching for information from Zeus himself. She decided that today, she would need to create an easy way to access systems.
She pulled up a partial blueprint of the ship, specifically the starboard side where they were on. Right away, she had a collection of rooms and corridors. Using that, she dipped her toes into the information. The non-existence seemed to shimmer into being. Suddenly she was standing in a hallway. She looked around and smiled. It was the exact replica of the Romulus' passageways, complete with representations of crewmembers going about their business.
She felt the joy of walking around in the world. Even though she couldn't feel or talk to these people, she felt a sense of existence. She found herself and continued on the task at hand. She set off on a brisk run, making sure to scan other computers to gain knowledge on where she was and what lay beyond a bulkhead. In actuality she was already spread out through the whole ship, but a larger concentration was 'moving' through the corridors. She had to be careful to make sure not to seem suspicious or the ship's AI might notice the signal. Best to appear like an energy pulse.
She made her way down another hallway and through a door. She gasped and flattened herself against a wall. A massive man, standing nearly eight feet in height lumbered through the corridors dressed in tight black pants and a muscle shirt. One look at his bulging muscles and the misshapen face told her that he was a Hunter. One of the monsters had gotten on this ship for some reason. If it was by chance, it was a bad hand Fate had dealt her. When the Hunter passes her, she realized that there must be a Stalker on board as well. That was bad news as one of them might sniff the Captain out. She needed to head for the Bridge to be certain.
She followed the floor plans, past the cafeteria and past the officer's quarters into a lift. She changed the deck and made her way to the command center. It was a cluttered space roughly octagonal in shape with officers in every bit of room. The Captain sat in the center seat with her hand to her chin looking out the window. She was saying something to the other officers but NICOLE couldn't hear her. She had no need to. Looking around, NICOLE tried to find out where one would access the Hunter/Killer info. She stopped dead, frightened.
A red spectre hovered in the corner of her vision. It was staring right at her. She turned slowly to face it. It had the body of a woman, but it was wearing a thick veil. Twin pinpricks of red light were visible in the shadows. NICOLE started to get scared. It was the other AI, and it was starting to catch on. This AI couldn't see her – at least not yet. It was getting suspicious though. She needed to act quickly. NICOLE accessed the Life Support console and tried to get any erratic lifesigns that would indicate the presence of a Stalker. This would include irregular breathing patterns, quick heartbeat, and rapid movements. She found them in port cargo hold six, approximately five of them. She started to access the camera.
There was a hard screech. She whirled around and saw the spectre move towards her. The red dots of light serving for eyes were peering straight at her. NICOLE started to panic. The other AI had noticed her. She had to send out false information and shield herself, making her look like a burst of electricity or something. She threw up firewalls, masqueraded as official files, anything that would stop this monster from detecting her!
The beast was closer now. The screech was getting louder. NICOLE thought about screaming, but she held on for now. She invented a report that excess energy had been routed to the bridge by accident. To sell this, she moved part of her run-time to the other part of the ship. She prayed to God or whatever being out there that this would work.
She was so close that she could see the facial features of the beast. It was the face of a stone angel. NICOLE could see the cracks in the stone and waited.
The screeching reached a peak, and then stopped. The AI peered at NICOLE for a second; surely thinking that something had to have been there, and then turned away and stood next to the Captain.
NICOLE felt triumphant! She had masked her presence from the ship's AI and could continue, but if she slipped up again, she wasn't sure she could cover her ass that time. She re-accessed Life Support and located the cargo hold. A thought later, she was there. Five boxes with Stalkers in them rumbled about with mechanical limbs scratching at the floor and eyes frantically darting. NICOLE realized that these Stalkers would be a threat to her and the Captain if they were called out to find the man. She decided they needed to be put out of commission. She made sure all of the alarms were off before sealing the cargo port and masking her presence yet again. Then, she slowly started to pump the air out of the room. It was a slow process, but she couldn't risk a fast move without being detected again.
The Stalkers didn't notice the loss of pressure at first, but after the air started to grow thinner, they started to bang on the floor and on their cages, desperately trying to free themselves. It was all in vain though. Soon the room was nearly devoid of air. The monstrosities flopped in their cages with saliva boiling from their mouths or blood dripping from their eyes. It was clear that they were dead from Asphyxia. NICOLE considered it nearly humane considering all they went through in life. Now that one loose end was tied up, she had to get rid of the Hunter. All in good time though.
Chris was doing pushups. Regularly, the ship had its gravity turned off in this section, resulting in free-fall. The best way to prevent bone degradation was to regularly exercise, and Chris decided to do that by doing extensive calisthenics when gravity was on. He was currently on push-up 43, barely even feeling the weight thanks to massive doses of punishment from his sergeants in boot camp. He was also thinking. He knew that there was high alert when he stowed away on the ship in the first place. It was entirely possible that the UNSC sent out alerts on his escape, and while they didn't know which ship he was on or where he was heading, it was plausible that they contacted Earth in the panic. So he would need to be ready for a search of the ship, and be ready to kill if he had to.
"This is bullshit."
"I agree, it's all bullshit!" He looked up in shock and saw to his horror, Captain Roswell Benedict standing in front of him. The only thing was, he wasn't all there. One arm was missing, an eye was missing, and parts of his skin were melted away by fire.
"Captain!" Chris said getting to his feet.
"Don't Captain me! You've got much bigger problems right now!"
"I... why are you here? You're dead!"
"And I have come back from the dead to whip you into shape! Stand at attention!"
"Yes, sir!" Chris said, snapping to.
"Good man!" Benedict said with remaining hand on his hip. "Look at you. Captain already. I hate to admit it, but you made me proud."
"Sir, I did my duty to the Corps."
"Hmm... looks like the Corps isn't treating you too kind now."
"Sir, permission to speak?"
"Granted." Benedict almost growled this; a side effect of his melted trachea.
"I was betrayed by the Corps. I was betrayed by ONI."
"Did you... resist?"
"Yes sir. It would have meant my possible execution."
Benedict looked at Chris with his remaining eye. "Sergeant, I don't believe once under my command you have ever refused an order."
"Sir, this was not-"
"You refused an order from a superior officer and did not comply! You are insubordinate! You ran. Admit it, you're a traitor!"
"Sir, I am no traitor!"
Suddenly, Benedict lunged out and grabbed the young man's neck. Chris was being suffocated by Benedict's bony hand. He glared into his former CO's face, shocked that this was happening. There was no emotion on the Captain's face as he gripped harder.
"I can't believe a defiant man like you could have served in the 182! You disgust me!"
Chris tried to pry the hand off, but his vision started to black out. "Captain! Please!"
"Say you're a traitor!" The dead man barked. "Say you turned your back on all you've ever known!"
"I AM NOT A TRAITOR!"
"BULLSHIT!"
"CHRISTOPHER!"
NICOLE' s voice echoed through the cargo hold.
"NICOLE, help!" Chris croaked. "He's got me!"
"STOP IT!" she screamed.
Then he blinked. Benedict was gone. The bony, deteriorating man was gone, and all that was there was his right hand clamped on his throat. He looked at his hand for a split second and then let go, scared. "Oh Christ. Oh God."
NICOLE's hologram popped up and studied him. "What did you just do?"
"I... I saw my dead Captain. He told me I was a traitor, and then he tried to kill me."
"You tried to kill yourself!"
"I... I saw..." He studied his right hand. "I... tried to kill myself. Oh Jesus, this is getting worse. Now my hallucinations are actually interacting with me."
"You need serious help." NICOLE said. "I hope that you don't snap and actually... do it."
Chris looked at his hand again, flexing it. "I hope I don't..." He then averted his gaze and decided to leave it in the past. "How was your trip?"
Despite the lack of subtlety, NICOLE decided to change the subject.
"Um, I took a look around the ship. Apparently the food is in the opposite cargo hold. I can get you there with the access codes I picked up. Just a heads-up: I found a couple of Stalkers in my search. I... I killed them."
To her surprise, Chris nodded approvingly. "Good work. That makes things easier for us. They can blame it on a hull breach. If you're in the system again, I recommend cracking one of the airlocks open to sell the deception."
This was not what she expected. It appeared that Chris was more desensitized to killing UNSC personnel after being forced to do so over the last week or so. I guess that's what happens when your comrades turn on you. "OK. Do you have a uniform?"
"Yeah, here's some coveralls. No ship name on it though. As long as I can keep my distance, I should get by just fine."
"Yeah, make sure you find some deodorant. After all that time, you must reek."
Chris took a whiff. "Eesh, I guess I have been a bit careless. Sally would kill me."
"Alright. The sooner the better. We don't want that Hunter catching you."
"The Hunter? You didn't say anything about that."
"Just try to avoid him. He should be easy to spot."
A few minutes later, the disgraced Marine zipped up his stolen uniform and put a cap on his head. "Never thought I'd find myself in the Navy."
"Don't get too comfortable. Try to blend in."
"You mean walk like I have a pole up my ass?"
"If that's what it takes." NICOLE chuckled. "Just don't get too close to anyone, and don't look suspicious."
"Roger." Chris nodded. NICOLE unlocked the door, and Chris walked into the hallway. Thankfully, nobody was there. As a cargo vessel, the Romulus would probably have more space than people aboard. Although one could never be too sure, especially with the Hunter. He consulted NICOLE. It wasn't far to the port side of the ship, roughly 100 meters as the crow flies. However, he needed to be discrete.
Chris headed aft towards the engines. He could feel the rumbling get stronger. He wasn't going to the engine room though. His stomach was leading the way, and that was towards the other cargo hold. He passed a Lieutenant and saluted him to keep appearances. The officer responded accordingly, although a bit lazily. Chris rounded a corner which took him through a long hallway nearly the size of a football field. Two Marines were leaning against the wall chuckling at a joke. Chris didn't make eye contact, but gulped as he saw that they too were from the 182nd Marine Infantry Division, but they were from 19th Battalion. They wouldn't recognize Chris, but they sure wouldn't strike up a casual conversation. Chris realized that his beard might do more harm than good because of dress code. He lowered his cap to hide his face, just in case.
He followed the corridors before he was in front of the cargo hold door.
"NICOLE, can you hack the door?"
"Already done, Chris. Just be careful. Don't go overboard."
"Relax. I'm just going to make a sandwich or something."
The lock hissed open, and the door slid apart for him. The cargo hold beckoned him forward and he accepted. NICOLE closed the door and locked it. "Alright, much to your heart's content." She told him.
"Not so fast..." Chris said. He carefully checked around to make sure that no techs were on duty. Satisfied, he then loosened up and looked for a crate of food. Most of the metal containers were airtight so that the food on the inside wouldn't be spoiled, but perhaps he could find some regularly stored containers. After about fifteen minutes of searching, he found a container of fruits and vegetables.
"Jackpot! They even have the green apples!" Chris said in triumph. He shone the apple on his coveralls and took a bite. It felt good to have something to eat. It tasted like heaven. The apple was no more in less than ten seconds. Soon he was digging in for another.
"Jeez, you think you could slow it down?" NICOLE asked. "How do you think you can explain the waste?"
"Rats?" Chris suggested between bites. "Never failed before." He finished the second and paused. "Say, how far away from Earth are we?"
"You asked me that yesterday."
"Just tell me again."
"We are actually a couple hours away from exiting the slipstream. I suggest we get ready for our escape plan."
The plan was simple. Once the cargo ship had emerged from Slipspace, the best thing to do would be to locate a lifeboat and jettison it with them aboard. That way they could ride it down to Earth mixed in with regular traffic. Where they landed though was an entirely different story.
"Remind me again what we should do if we exit over an urban center?"
"Head for the city limits. I'd rather we crash in the suburbs if anything. Regardless, once we touch down, we're going to want to clear the area fa-" She stopped. She felt that someone was opening the lock on the door. "HIDE!" She hissed.
Chris chose a few crates to hid behind and just sat motionless as he listened to the lock opening. Deep footsteps entered the hold, confirming that whoever entered the hold was big.
"You think I wouldn't know when you snuffed out my Stalkers?"
"Oh shit." NICOLE cursed quietly. "Oh no..."
"You just offed 'em like they were dogs? I know you're in here. I know you're in here and I'm going to peel your skin off bit by bit!" There was a noise that sounded like scratching metal.
"Is that a knife?" Chris whispered, scared.
"Negative. That's a sword!" NICOLE corrected.
The scratching noise grew to a high volume and then the sound of two pieces of metal hitting the deck echoed through the hold.
"Please tell me what that was." Chris whispered.
"You're not going to like it."
"Just get it over with."
"Chris, that is a twenty inch serrated blade tipped with diamond and nanolattice. Chris, he just bisected a cargo container in one swipe!"
"Why the hell did you tell me?"
"YOU TOLD ME TO!" she hissed.
"SHOW YOURSELF!" The Hunter screamed. "I'm sick and tired of tracking you all over space!"
Chris was running out of time. It wouldn't be long before this man found him and made good on his promise. He needed a way to level the playing field.
"You need new tactics." Another vision said to him. Dean Sheppard knelt next to him smiling.
"Oh God no. Not now." Chris tried to whisper.
"What?" NICOLE asked.
"Sometimes the most obvious route is the best. What gives us our edge as Marines?"
"...we can fight in space!"
Dean smiled warmly and then vanished. "It was all you on this one." The vision said.
"NICOLE, can you disable the artificial gravity in this compartment?"
"Yes I can! Tapping in... disabling graviton flow... we have micrograv. Rock him when ready. Just brace yourself."
Chris checked his magazine and prepared to fire.
The Hunter took another step and nearly pitched over. "WHAT'S THIS?" He roared in shock. "You trying to piss me off?"
"No." Chris said, emerging from cover and aiming Rouge's pistol. "Just tying up loose ends."
The weapon barked, sending the 10mm round into the Hunter's shoulder. The deformed face contorted in rage and made him tumble. Chris nearly lost his footing too. For all the hope and planning of the pre ass-kicking one liner, all the round did was make the Hunter angry. Queensbury Rules be damned. Now was the time to kick him while he was down. Chris emptied the whole magazine into the Hunter who seemed to just float in the air and was pushed by bullet impacts. When the magazine went dry, Chris dropped it from the gun and inserted a new one. He pushed off from his wall and moved to another.
Amazingly, the Hunter wasn't dead. If anything, the bullets just served to empower the man, like he absorbed the lead for energy. Using the monster sword, the Hunter pushed off from the deck and surged towards the Captain. Chris jumped, using the momentum to carry him to the roof. Chris blasted half a magazine into the Hunter, to no effect.
The monster chuckled. "That it?" He growled. Then out of nowhere, there was a slash. Chris' coveralls were cut and blood sprayed on globules. Red orbs floated in microgravity. He felt burning pain in his chest and tried to stop the bleeding. Chris twirled in the air and let go of his gun. The Hunter smelt the scent of copper in the air and then drew in for the kill. Chris had one last trick up his sleeve.
"NICOLE, LOCALIZE GRAVITY INCREASE!"
"What?" She said. She had absolutely no idea what he was saying.
"DO IT!"
She spent a nanosecond wondering what he was babbling about, but then she realized! Some ships had a system that forced graviton particles in a direction that simulated a 1G environment in areas as small as a foot. She did a quick search of the systems of the ship – making sure not to alert the AI – and saw that there was a compartment by compartment system. Barely thinking, she tripped it.
The Hunter was pinned to the floor at once. "NO!" He screamed. "NO! YOU CAN'T BEAT ME SO EASILY!" The monster cried in disbelief.
Chris clutched his chest in pain. "NICOLE, crush the bastard."
In a movement of coldness, she said, "How fast?"
"Let him think about it." The captain said with cruelty.
"On it."
Chris ripped off the coverall sleeve and used it as a bandage for his chest, and touched down on the deck just in time to see the man die. He roared in pain as he was slowly crushed by the flow of particles. Chris stood motionless as he heard bones crack and crumble. The roaring this thing produced was utterly frightening, but still he stood there watching and waiting for this thing to die. It took twenty minutes. The arms and legs were flattened, and blood was leaking out of the Hunter's eyes, ears and mouth, until he heard a clearly audible snap where the neck finally broke, and then he was still. Chris watched still for any sign of movement. Only minor reflexes were seen, but when even those stopped, then did the Captain relax.
"I can't believe we did that." NICOLE said. "I never thought I would kill something in that way. That was... horrible."
"I was lucky to walk away from it." Chris winced, touching the now-red piece of cloth. "I need a medical kit."
"There aren't any in here. There is a clinic a deck up from here. Only staffed by one person. The rest are in cryosleep."
"Good." Chris said, walking to the door. He made sure the hallway was clear, looked one last time at the crushed body, and went on his way.
The journey was quiet. Nobody was alerted by the scuffle, and almost everyone was in cryosleep. This meant that there was pretty much nobody to stop him as he went to the clinic. He was sure to take the stairs so that he wouldn't get any surprises from passers-by. Deck 3 was where the clinic was at, and he walked through the door, pretending to be in much worse pain than he was in.
"Help me!"
The man at the desk dropped his pen. "Jesus Christ! What happened?"
"I was working in one of the cargo holds and got slashed from one of the movers!"
The doctor looked at the wound. "Looks pretty deep! You got cut good! Come here, sit down." He led the Marine to a chair in the far corner and opened a medical supply kit.
"I'm amazed you could get here with that. You should have called me the moment you got it."
"Sorry." Chris said. "Things were pretty hectic."
"No problem." The doctor said. He tapped a needle. "This is a coagulant to stop the blood flow. You'll feel a bit of constriction in the chest, but that will go away." He put the cocktail in Chris' arm and wrapped a length of dressing around the wounded man's abdomen. When he was finished, he looked over Chris' body, and spotted his dog tags. "You're a Marine?"
"Ah..."
"What were you doing working in the cargo hold? Marines aren't supposed to do that! Where's your ship patch and nametag? Who are you?"
Chris head butted the medic.
"I'm new."
"Nice shot." NICOLE said. "Now where do you suggest we hide the body?"
"Somewhere where someone wouldn't look for him. We don't want him waking up and spoiling our escape."
"Try a storage cabinet." She suggested. There just happened to be a suitable candidate. It looked like a locker on steroids and was four feet deep. It was the perfect place to hide a body.
"Shit, I forgot: the cameras!"
"I've tried my hardest to make it seem like we were never in here." NICOLE said. "Don't know if it worked, but the AI can't monitor every little thing on the ship, and Security must have hundreds of screens to go through. Needless to say, we'd better hurry."
Chris felt much better now that the coagulant was holding him up. He marched confidently with pistol stowed safely. His new objective was the escape pods, which were actually about a hundred feet away, which passed in seconds. Getting in was easy enough, and as expected, nobody was there. He found one of the vehicles and slipped inside and closed his eyes waiting for the jump to end.
"NICOLE, time to realspace transition?"
"Thirty minutes."
"We want to time our launch with the transition so that we can hide our emission."
"Excellent deduction. Exactly what I was thinking."
He waited with white knuckles on the control console for the moment to come.
"Stand by..." NICOLE whispered. "Stand by..."
A shriek filled the cockpit.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?" The Captain roared.
"They found us! We have to launch now!"
The ship's AI had noticed a few odd system changes throughout the ship and got curious. It looked into the matter and discovered the stowaway. It had personally followed him from one side of the ship to another in a sort of reconstruction, and deduced correctly where they were.
"Chris! Launch the lifeboat!"
"Will we make the transition?"
"Anywhere's better than here!"
He tapped the release, and with a bang, the escape pod jettisoned from the cargo ship into Slispace. Because the pod didn't have a drive, it immediately reverted to normalspace, rocking violently as it made the trip back to reality. Chris bashed his head off the windshield, putting a small crack in the reinforced glass. With a flash, the appeared not fifty thousand kilometres from Earth, coasting on momentum. The Romulus went on ahead, confused on where the pod went.
"We did it!" Chris said with delight.
"We're not out of this yet. We just have to let gravity do its job, and we'll be back on Terra Firma in time for dinner."
Category All / All
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