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Articalmy; It's pronounced exactly how it's spelt.
Tweet Topic Started: May 25 2007, 07:43 PM (173 Views)
Post #1 May 25 2007, 07:43 PM Flak
Well, considering I haven't worked on this for a long time...And I completly forgot the Link to the main forum, I took the liberty of posting this rather short 'Novel,' as some may call it, of mine in the 'Fan Fiction' section. Yes, 'tis quite a bit of reading, and not everything is corrected, but I just need to release the beast somewhere besides my Hard Drive. I plan on adapting this into a book someday, but that idea is in it's infant stages.
But, enough of my blathering. The New Chapter is up for ones who have read such before, and text is abundant for newcomers.

So, without further ado, here is Articalmy, Chapters One through Four.

Enjoy.
__________

Articalmy

General Gregory Smith
Nulled Blade
8:30 P.M.
Currently Orbiting Denshia IV
March 19th, 2304

Recording…
…
…
Patching through to main server…
…
…
Playing…

Main Briefing-

I’ve been in service of the Federal Defense Militia for over thirty years, but in all of my time, there has never been a situation like this. These, Akloy, they seem to have a grudge over us somehow. They want to kill us. To punish us. To eliminate us. Hell no, and if they ever do, Then we of the FDM will go out with a fight. But, for some of your rookies out there, I don’t want to scare you.
Alright, listen up. You are to be drifting just behind Flare, Hunak’s sun. Mainly addressed to captains, you’re going to be waiting there until the Akloy armada reaches Hunak and makes planet side with it. After that, get your greasy asses in those dropships and hit ‘em hard. I know what you’re thinking, this is suicide. Well, you’re not going to blow them to hell all in one swift strike are you? Demolitionist, that means you. No, in fact, this is merely a distraction. Reinforcements from Quentia are making there way here at our location. You’ve got to make your stand here until they arrive. The armada will be here in three days. If we land this, Hunak is a mineral rich planet, assuring our victory. Were only a few more steps from beating them. Make me proud.

Smith out.

End Transmission…



Opening file logs…
Opening…
File found.
…
…
Searching…
Log found. James Paterson Callow.
Playing…

---

Chapter 1: Soft Landing.

The blinking light of the dropship burned my eyes. I was seated in the middle of the row, rocking to and fro as the vessel bumped along. Four hours was all I needed. Hell, it was better than alpha teams eight hour trip. So I tried to make the best of it, but that wasn’t necessarily easy. The others constantly bitched openly about this and that. “Damnit, Sarg! When we gonna get some action!” Cried Mark. He was the youngest of my team. Short, fast, and whining pretty much described him. And for his attitude, we all nicknamed him Weasel. And it pretty much suited him.
“When we get there, private! Now quit your bellyaching, I got more important shit to worry about!” replied Sarg as he turned back to read a magazine labeled ‘Playboy-issue 5034’.

Good old Sarg, I always say. He was out leader basically, being two ranks above myself at Master Sergeant. He was one hell of a yeller, but really, his bite was worse than his bark. His shots are pretty damn accurate for most people. But, hey, eighteen years in the FDM does that to you. Most say he’s heartless, but if he wasn’t harsh no one would take him seriously. He has a soft side, however. But this isn’t history class. Its war.

Ten years ago some scientist from a vessel called the ‘Campaigner’ I believe, found some probe drifting in space. Slightly damaged, they took it in and scanned it. Thing was about two hundred years ahead of our current technology. Smooth, silver, and had distanced markings all over it. Of course, they couldn’t read them, but it obviously said ‘We’re here to kick your ass.’ And what did that mean?

About a week after they found it, a research station was picking up some strange signals. Three days later, they just got stronger and stronger. Then, out of the brink, a fucking plasma cannon shot worth about five thousand tons of pressure zipped to it and, Boom, no more station. And it didn’t stop there. Ounce that one went out, about twenty others went out, too. So, that sparked the war. For a long while we didn’t even know what we were fighting. But eventually we inevitably found out. Akloy*, is the name we adopted for them, because whatever was there true name was, we sure as hell didn’t understand it. They were very insect-ish, basically looking something crossed between a dragonfly and a humanoid. And so, after ten years of this shit, we finally may be winning.

“Aye, Haley. How long ‘till the touchdown? My ass is asleep.” Butcher asked. Butcher was basically our heavy machine gunner. Ok, so he was the demolitionist also. Only a corporal at rank, this guy was a monster at heart. His favorite past time was blowing the hell out of Akloy with just about anything but pistols, with his trademark quote ‘Why shoot with one hand when you can have all two.’ He was a bulky guy, and somewhat slow, so don’t expect him to say yes to a hike. “Hmm…About fifteen minutes.” Haley replied. Haley, if you haven’t already figured out, was our beautiful pilot. I always ask myself how she ended up in this dump. She was sweet, but could break your neck in a heartbeat. I guess some things are better left a mystery.

After hearing only fifteen minutes was left, Sarg threw his magazine over his shoulder and stood up so that everyone could hear his plan. “Alright greenhorns, listen up!” His black face was cold, same as his eyes. “When we make landing, I want you to split into two groups. Mark and Rick will go with James.” He called out again, pointing at me at the last name. He continued. “Duke and Zack will follow me. Now, were looking for the Bravo and Charley Teams so we can meet up with them. When we split, you must all stay-“His words ended abruptly as Haley screamed out. “Shade missile, incoming on left side! Brace yourselves!” I immediately responded by grabbing on to the rack above me, but it didn’t help at all when it made impact. The entire vessel shook and darkness crept over as the fiery green explosion flew throughout the ship. The last thing I heard was the cries from Sarg and the moan of the metal as it split from the plasma.

*Akloy: Pronounced as its spelt; ‘Ack-Loy.’


Chapter 2: Touchdown

Everything was swirling, even though all I saw was a pitch black void. My senses eventually returned in a sluggish manner. First touch, which I begged to be last. But it was nothing I could stop it, so it came. Pain shot throughout my body in a split second, mostly from my left arm and right thigh. Then it was sight, very little that is. I could barely see the gray sky. Then, my ears started to function again. There was no wind on Hunak, so it was mostly silent. But my ears wouldn’t be working if they didn’t eventually pick up something. It was Sarg’s voice, sharp as a nail. I couldn’t hear much, but I did get excerpts. From what I could tell, he was walking around screaming his ass off at the others.
“Get your lazy ass up, Maggot!”
“You want a nap? Then go get killed and you’ll have one, but when your with me, you gonna be awake! “
“God damnit! What am I in command of? Volunteers!?”
I braced myself for my turn.

It came, true enough, and by that time I was recovered enough to stand. As he yelled, spittle found my face.
“What in the hell are you doing?! Get up!”
I stumbled up to my legs with a little difficulty, but eventually I was upright. I took notice of my sourroundings as I stumbled to a nearby rock. The ship was imbedded roughly into the side of a spire like rock. A blast of thick smoke rose from its starboard, and the entire area was littered with chunks of metal and gray burnt rock. Hunak was nothing to look at either. All around him was a barren, flat plain. Dust was its main ingredient. There was almost no plant life. In fact, there was almost no anything. There were a few hills, but mostly rocks were the only thing you saw. Spires, boulders, pebbles, you name it. The air currents were high above the ground and almost never lowered. It was hotter than hell. The thick clouds trapped in sunlight, but didn’t let it out. Fortunately, there was enough gaps too keep it cool enough to walk on. So by now you may be wondering, ‘how the fuck are you breathing?’. I would say my rebreather tank, but that’s not the case. I think awhile back we placed atmosphere projectors all over this rock. The FDM does that to a lot of planets, but few get success. How does it happen? Go ask a scientist, I’m here to shoot.

So far there were five members awake, two still out cold. Mark plopped down on a rock nearby, addressing me. “Hey James. Sarg is practically happy this morning, don’t ya think?”
“Well, he just was knocked out and crashed into the frikin side of the rock. I think he would be a little grumpy.” I replied
“Little?”
“Come on, you should be glad he isn’t upset, much less mad.”
“Good point…” He took out a pack of cigarettes. He trained one my way. “Smoke?”
I replied.
“Nah, I need my lungs to pant, with all this damned heat.”
He shrugged and lit one.

When everyone was gathered, they sat sulking in the middle awaiting Sarg’s lecture. “Alright, maggots! We’ve had an unexpected landing, so this might be a little more difficult than we thought. Duke, that radio still work?”
“Um…No, Sir. It was damaged when we crashed.” He replied.
“Damnit…Ok, we’ll just have to go with the same plan. Split off into two groups and look for them. There’s not much we can go on, so use your heads. Let’s move out!”

Soon, I was trekking through the wasteland with Mark and Rick in my wake. Something prodded my mind that I had to ask one of them. Slowly down from my front position, I met up with Rick. He was the quiet type, not prone to going into full conversation. However, he was our best sniper. He could hit a fly a mile away without killing it.
“Hey, what happened to Haley and the other pilots?”
He answered my question with his own. “What do you think would happen if you flew head first into a rock?”
My emotions would usually be weighed and I would feel grief for them, but according to my suit, it wouldn’t let me. Hourly injections of what was called throughout the FDM as ‘Happy Killers’, suppressed my sentiments. So all I could do was merely roll my eyes and move on.

The suit was could be your best friend, or your worst enemy. Its full name was the MU-56 All Purpose Enviromental Suit, or the A-PES. Its better functions were a rebreather system that automatically filters out the particles around you and sorts them into air. That function was important as you could even, basically saying, ‘breath’ underwater. Yes, it filters out water particles when set to aquatic. It had radar and muscular augments, making carrying stuff easier, and a Heads up Display…Which may sound incredulous, but it was a really simple HUD. Basically just air temperature, battery power, and several miscellaneous settings. The bad side was that it’s wired into your skull. So if someone a rank above you decides so, he can knock you out or even kill you with a flick of a switch. And it was impossible to remove it by yourself. Only a technician can do that. And they aren’t on the battlefield that much. Then there’s, as mentioned before, the emotion suppressers. Most feelings are there to be bounced around, but the more significant ones, such as grief and disappointment, are out. It has that so the soldier can stay focused on the task at hand. The suit itself is very sleek and somewhat tight on the body, but in other words it’s just fine.

So, what am I armed with? The standard issue SM-10 3.calibur rifle. Pretty basic; just pull the trigger and the bullets fly. It’s armed with a one-shot burst fire, however pressing the trigger long enough will engage automatic mode. It’s a pressurized system so that you don’t have to stop to change firing modes. Every second counts, I suppose.

Four hours later, and those seconds added up. We stopped by an outcrop or boulders and stone. Weasel helped himself up on the biggest of them, unanimously the lookout. He addressed me again. “Do you even know where in the hell we are going?”
“Well, according to the more detailed briefing given by the captain, most of the dropship would land at twenty degrees north, forty-five degrees west. Judging by our current position, we should be looking somewhere northwest.”
Weasel paused for a moment.
“I don’t know what in the hell you just said, but it sounded smart…So I’m going with you.”
I chuckled under my breath.
After a short rest we were off again, hiking to wherever I imagined the landing zone was. Rick and I called in the Sarg and his group every now and then with our short range radios, but they never offered anything interesting. I thought I was going to fall over from my feet being numb, and then I spotted it. Past a few rocks there was a giant mound, looking somewhat like an undersized volcano. A blue light glittered from its head. I raised my hand up behind me and the others stopped. Making a small circle in the air with two fingers, they got close and followed me. I ducked behind one of the rocks and they mimicked.
“Mark, see that mound over there. Haul ass over there and see what you can find. And if you can, try not to make too many bastards follow us.”
Mark mumbled a few words, but in the end it was ‘Yes Sir.’

I sat quietly beside the stone glancing this way and that, trying to find some form of entertainment. Rick merely reached for his sniper rifle he called ‘Spider’ and started to polish it. At least he has something to do. I thought. I ain’t got shit. But of all the people, Mark came sprinting back from the mound’s direction. His eyes were locked in horror as he flew by. I looked back to where he was running, and, sure enough, about five Akloy were zipping there way here, some flying, others running. I cried to Rick. “Take point!” He snatched up Spider and started to dish out some shots. Two went down, leaving it a fair fight. When they got too close, he sheathed his rifle and drew his SMG. We both retreated back were Mark was camped, blue beams skidding randomly this way and that. We took our stand there.

I aimed at the one flying in the sky. Pulling the trigger, I felt the kick as the yellow explosion emitted from the nose. But, of course, it dodged the first few shots and countered. I ducked lower as the projectiles made there way to me. They bounced harmlessly off the stone as I popped back up and gave some more. This time, however, the bullets flew true, a few hitting him in the gut. He dropped at of the sky like a rock, ending up falling behind some. With one down, the rest of the fight went by quicker. The other two were killed off, and my group sustained minimal wounds. After the fight I alerted the others.
“Alright, were not going anywhere near there.”
“Agreed.” Said Mark.
“Ok, I’m gonna go check around. Ya’ll stay here and nurse your wounds.”
“Show off…”
I shuffled my way over the battle zone.


Chapter 3: Delta

I hummed quietly to myself as I made my across it, looking for any survivors. So far there was nothing but blood stained dirt and rocks. Akloy blood was an odd liquid. When it burst it was usually colored a bright blue with a greenish tint. Yet, when it hit the ground, it would slowly tint to a pitch black and crusted. Now, I know human blood usually turns a dark color after awhile, but from bright blue to black? And it did it quick, too. Two minutes later and it would be darkened. But really, why in the hell do I care?

I was thinking about heading back to my squad, but beyond a few meters a faint gurgle caught my ears. I crouched down, rifle in the ready position. Walking over in that stance, the sound grew louder as I neared a stone sitting alone. Jumping out in front of it, I found out what the sound was.

It was the Akloy I had shot down earlier. It was hunched up, with its back against the rock. Blue liquid gushed slowly out of its abdomen, several small holes in the stomach area. Small bubbles popped here and there, revealing the ‘gurgle’, which actually was the beast moaning in an odd way. Its sleek armored head turned a rusted sliver in this environment. Akloy usually, in adult form, have four arms attached to their torso, which was roughly shaped in a triangle. There spine holding the lower body and the upper together was thick near the top, but slowly thinned towards the bottom. Its legs were wiry and thick at the thighs, but thin near the feet and the foreleg. Small wing cases hung on the back, wings were about a foot longer than the arms. Yet, they folded neatly and compact into the cases when not used.

This Akloy’s hand was over the largest of the wounds and was trying to stop the bleeding. The group that attacked mine didn’t have a priest (As what we called them for their ability to heal a comrade very quickly.) with them. So this guy was doomed. His right wing was spread and flicked every now and then, while the other was crushed in an awkward position. The skin that was exposed from the silver armor was pale in color. Its weapon, which was a rifle type, was broken, dented, and tossed over to his left somewhere. It looked up at me, the scarred marine pointing a rifle at its head. It merely starred back, beady eyes never softening.

I was urging myself to shoot it, but something was pulling me back. One side of me said Pull the God damn trigger! While the other said Don’t do it. In the end the violent side won. But before I could end its misery, it had to have the last comment. “Isakar Yak, Humian.” I replied with. “Why can’t you just be quiet when you die.” more of a command than a question.
My finger pulled back and the bullet flew. It silted through his skull like a hot knife to butter. The blood spittle randomly flew in an arc, while the main just dripped from its cranium. The rest of it fell limp.

For awhile, I just sat there and started. There was not much dept or reason behind why, but I just starred, the corpse laying there in the wind. However, by the time the blood was black, I was hiking back to the others. The first thing I heard was. “Aye, chief, what was all that about?” Came from Mark’s lips.
“What?”
“You know, you fired at a rock then came back.”
“Oh…that, it was nothing.”
“So you like shooting rocks ‘n shit?”
“If you must know, I was just finishing off one ‘o those Buggers.”
“That it? Well, if you say so.”
He went back to staring at the void-like sky.

“Alright! Get you asses up and let’s go!”
They responded to my voice with a few mumbles, but in the end they followed. We kept traveling northwest as I directed, but the trip was greatly lengthened as we had to make a large half circle around the dome. There were a few sentries along the way looking for the assault group we finished, but we’d either dodge their field of vision or Rick would take them out silently. Bastard.

After that event, we were back on our straight trail. But thank god it only lasted about thirty minutes. Sarg radioed in. “James, what’s your situation? Over.” I picked up my comm. and replied. “Were still due northwest, sir. We ran into a few Akloy along the way, but that’s it. Over.”
“Have you found Bravo team or Charley yet? Over.”
“Neg-“
I barely got out the ‘N’ in ‘Negative’ before a Dove (Nickname for the common Dropship) swept over us.

“Hold up Sir! Dropship just spotted!”
I sheathed the radio and watched as the Dove made its way in a deep groove in the dirt a couple yards away. Mark yelled out. “Holy shit!” And we made out way over to it. Fortunately, it wasn’t that steep, so we just slid down it as seven marines made there way out of the back opening. They approached us, armaments hanging limply by there sides. The bellow of the Dove’s engines made it hard to hear anything, so I had to bawl.
“Who are you?!”
The one in the front replied. “Were Delta team. I assume your part of Ranger Team!”
The screaming was giving me a headache, so I merely nodded. Rick and Mark were standing behind me, hands over there ears.
“We were sent to look for you!”
I nodded.
“Come on, get in the Dropship!”
I beckoned Mark and Rick and they followed me to it.

When we were inside, I was introduced to the leader of the team.
“I’m Gunnery Sergeant Blake. I take you as Sergeant James?”
“Yeah, that’s me, sir. Those two behind me are Private Mark and Corporal Rick.”
“So I see…”
I paused for a moment, looking around the metal container I was in. Then it hit me.
“Sir, the rest of my team is some-“
“Already taken care of. Bravo team went for them when I left.”
I blinked and replied with “Oh…”

Forty minutes later the Dove slowed down and was starting to lose altitude. By the way it went straight down in mid-air, it was obviously landing. I shook a little as it stopped on the ground, giving a ‘bump’. The door opened and I beckoned my companions.

I stepped from it to find a camp with marines scattered randomly around, either chatting or polishing their weapons. It was simple, really, mostly made up of gray cloth tents, a few metal works scattered here and there. “Follow me.” Blake called to my team. We followed for obvious reasons and were led to a tent where several men were conversing over politics. Among them was Sarg. As soon as he saw me he said.
“Slow-ass son of ‘o bitch! Took your pretty little time getting here didn’t you?”
Not really paying attention really, I merely replied. “Yes, Sir.”
“Well, we’ll see how slow you are when your pay is adducted.”
Again I shrugged and replied with “Yes Sir” again.

After a battle of words, I eventually left the tent. I was led to some other dwelling by one of Delta’s team members. He stopped by yet another tent and said.
“This will be were you will be staying.”
I nodded and he dismissed himself. Inside I found Zach, or. Butcher, lying down on a bunk, dead to the world.
“Lazy bastard…” I murmured to myself. Lying across the bunk, the thin material of the shelter shook against the wind. I couldn’t take of the armor, unless I liked suicide. My eyes blinked slowly, and I saw them envelope me in darkness. They fluttered as I tried to fight back sleep, but the fucked up day had left me exhausted. They closed again, and I felt myself fall, fall, fall…


Chapter 4: An interrupted party

A heavy throb echoed through my aching skull. A slowly awoke to find my cramp body still in the armor. A swore escaped my lips as I got up from the bunk, clock reading Three A.M. in the morning. A beat of some sort was pulsating through the tent. As my ears got there feeling back into them, I realized that wasn’t just some sort of beat. It was music. Butcher was gone, and I figured so was everyone else. I stumbled my way out of the tent, only to cover my eyes and trip back into it. It was almost as bright as the afternoon. “What in the hell did they do now!” I thought angrily to myself.

Finally, after my eyes had gotten use to the constant flash of lights, a walked straight of the tent and gazed in wonder at what I saw. There was a massive group of soldiers, jumping up and down to the beat. Almost all had a beer or cigarette in there hands. I shook my head. “Why in the hell would they do this at three O’clock!!?” I yelled out to no one in particular. Suddenly, a figure limbered towards me. Closer inspections revealed it to be Mark. I rolled my eyes at his wretched figure. He was stumbling everywhere he went, speech slurred, eyes dilated. When he finally noticed me, about a minute after he approached me, he looked surprise and did his best run towards me. When I was reached by Mark, he nearly fell over. He leaned against me shoulder, trying to stay awake. “What in the hell do you want, rookie?” I addressed to him, pushing his bulk off mine.
“Whoa, whoa! You shiz take az loadz off, Jamezerz, buddy! Here ya go, have eh beer!” He offered me a black bottle full of alcohol, but I rejected.
“God damnit, Private! Your more wasted then Sarg. at that Christmas party!”
I stopped and looked around, making sure Sarg. wasn’t anywhere near.
Mark went to say something, but in the end he just fell over, snoring. I sighed heavily and looked to the night sky for help.

I figured to just try to go along with it, since with so many people at a time partying, there was no use to break it up. I waded through scores of drunks and conversations. After what seemed like hours of pushing and shoving, I found myself at the far end of the crowd. An old steel chair found me and I sat down, observing my surroundings. A cooler was to my left, so I went ahead and rummaged through it. After passing mountains of alcohol, I found what I was looking for. A simple container of water. A popped the cap and took a few gulps. The cool liquid running down my parched throat helped on this hot night, just as the rest of the nights. The terrain was still the same, like it ever change. Dirt, rocks, and more dirt. From the corner of my eye, a shadow moved about. Rick plopped down next to me with his own chair, nodding. I nodded back, asking him. “What with the party shit?”
He shrugged.
“I guess from a long days work, they needed a break.”
“Humph, what a load of crap. They haven’t seen anything yet.”
Rick shrugged at me and agreed.

We sat there for an half an hour, conversing and chatting about anything that came to mind. Three water bottles layed beside us, two of them mine. I stopped occasionally to check my built in (Spiffy.) watch. The time never slowed down or sped up. It just made me comfortable. Soon half hours turned into full hours. It was now three water bottles. Having completely exhausted them, I left the cooler alone for now, less I decide to become drunk like the rest. We were just coming to a close when Rick paused and looked out over the horizon. I just starred, asking the question. “What do you see?” He didn’t answer, but merely narrowed his eyes until they were slits and got up form his seat. Rick stood straight up, starring at the same location. I asked again, this time more of a command than a question.
“What do you see, private!?”
Suddenly, he responded with a hard shove. I fell from my chair as he leaped out of the way. I was saying aloud “What the hell!”, but my mind was saying “Good call, Rick.”
Why, do you ask? Because a large, compressed ball of blue, electrified plasma zoomed right where I was sitting. It erupted in an azure disperse, sending me flying. While it was only about five feet, I hit the ground with a hard thud. I had landed on my elbow, it itself badly bruised. A rolled over on my back, rubbing the injury. Rick was already yelling out “Akloy!” I breathed heavily for a moment, then hoisted myself quickly to my feet. Everyone was scattering, trying to locate the equipment. I looked out to the horizon. Dozens of armored tanks lined it, each firing a mortar every few minuets. The annoyances seemed like cyan rings that just floated midair. In-between the god damn hula hoop was huge war machine, in my opinion a ‘Lugy Shooter.” A rough triangle with a cannon on it was the best description I could give it right now. For obvious reason, most were just dubbed “Ringers.”
Fortunately enough for me, my tent was still intact. My feet raced me to it.

Inside I grabbed my gear and hastily threw it on. There was no time to waste. The Akloy caught us with out pants down this time. Hopefully most of our troops will be sober enough to shoot.
__________
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Post #2 May 25 2007, 07:47 PM Flak
...And Chapters Five through Seven.

Once again, Enjoy.
__________
Chapter 5: Raid

Racing down to the frontlines, near the front of the camp, I set myself up a good defensive position. The projectiles still went lumbering over my head. Several more troops joined me. Yet, Akloy attacks seemed absent. It made me wonder, but it was obvious wee were going to have to assault them. We waited until our squad seemed large enough, then, we sprinted towards out targets. The mortars sat alone and helpless, a severely bad tactic for the Akloy. It didn’t make sense, as the Akloy were uncanny when it came to battle diplomacy and strategies. A rookie tactician rivaled that of one of own generals, and of course I’m over exaggerating. Then it occurred it me. This was obviously a trap. But it was too late to do anything, as we were already to close. I glanced behind, several more assault squads trailing in our wake. When I looked back, an unwelcoming site greeted me.

A few of the poor recruits fell over as the hutches burst open. To get into what I’m saying, basically the ground would elevate a few moments. Then, out of the blue, an Akloy foot soldier would zip into the air and start opening fire. Whenever it did, you could see the faint open of some metal entry. In fact, large holes were left afterwards. The insects came out in the dozens, massacring anything that didn’t seem to be like them. My troop was caught completely off guard, and there sluggish movements didn’t save them either. Of course, I didn’t care; I just ran backwards and rolled behind one of the many, many rocks. The other, more qualified veterans took cover and instructed their counterparts to do so. Slowly, I made my way back-Plenty of bullets trying to stop that-, trying to find one of my team mates.

Fortunately, I bumped into Butcher, who was in the northernmost position, or up in the front. He was emptying his M-190, a very large automatic weapon, against the onslaught. He greeted me, not letting go of the trigger. I took cover behind his lethal bulk and counted my clips. Four, five, six. I smiled to myself. “Perfect” echoed through my head. I called to Butcher.
“I’m sure you got an anti-tank.”
“Anti what?” He asked questioningly.
“Anti-tank, dumbass.”
He nodded, remarking over the pauses in his gunfire.
“Yeah, (Gunfire) I got (Gunfire) a rocket, (Gunfire) some mines, (Guess what? Gunfire) and some concussive grenades, (Gunfire).”
I nodded.
“Think you can pick up that rocket for a moment? You may have limited shells, but those mortars don’t, you know. Our boys run out of ammo, too.”
“Oh, I see.”
His only half empty weapon was set down beside him as he pulled out his bulky rocket launcher. It was called an ‘Automated Anti-Tank Projectile’, or in acronym form, AATP. It was propelled by small, rapid burst of hydrogen, unlike most rockets. It wasn’t continuous stream of explosive material, but short burst, as mentioned. It could travel longer distances, and it took up less room. As a bonus, any enemy electronics that were detected were immediately locked on too. The FDM has small chips that repel this signal, so your tanks wouldn’t be destroyed by friendly fire. Quite useful…
He loaded the behemoth and pulled the trigger-more like lever-and the missile sped from its chamber towards its target. There was a flash of red then a swirl of blue as the mortar slightly jumped into the air and created a horrific explosion. I watched in awe as the Akloy were stunned by the aftershock. A few weaker ones even fell from the sky they were situated in. I yelled out to my party.
“There stunned! Let ‘em have it!”
Pushing Butcher onto the ground, golden sprays of ally projectiles whizzed past. A few more Akloy fell, their screeching bellows assuring me. They returned fire, causing everyone to take cover. I blindly lifted my gun up and let out some shots, which all missed. I wasn’t trying to kill them, just harass them. Butcher’s common sense came to him at last.
“I think we should move back a little…”
I gasped.
“What’s this? Big ‘ole butcher runnin’ away?”
“Just do it, leatherneck!” He replied.
I nodded in acknowledgment, and stooped down running as best as I could to the rear with him. He set himself up near the center, while I intended on going for the far left. The Akloy were beginning to lose, and a shine of hope lit my eyes. But this was quickly distinguished as my radio buzzed. I couldn’t hear what it said the first time, but the stone hard voice reminded it me that it was obviously Sarg.
“Repeat that, sir?”
“I said, haul ass back to base camp! We’ve been ambushed by the left side!”
I swore.
“Yes sir. Over.”
I wove my hand in the air, spinning it in a circle to mean ‘On me!’. The rest gathered a bit closer, since most of the Akloy were dead or running. Butcher and a few other demolitions had taken out the last of the mortars. I gave my orders.
“We need to get back to camp. We’ve been ambushed from the left. No heroics. There’s no room for anymore dead up here.”
There was a few “Yes sirs”, but mostly nods. We started to the camp, going as fast as our legs would carry us.

When I did reach it, I had to slow down and catch my breath. I was in the back of the group, never keened to running such long distances. I glanced to the west, the searing blaze causing my eyes to squint. It was a disaster. Tents were ablaze, bodies littered the dirt, blood stains smeared across the rocks. Oddly, though, there was not one Akloy within sight. I shook my head.
“Idiots.”
Making my way through the inferno, I told the rest to follow me the best they could. It was a horrid sight, even though most were unaffected by it. Shelters were crumbling, smoldering tent work still in my field of vision. Ashes to ashes, I often heard, but this was so damn literal. Burnt bodies sadly layed among the tents. A small sear made its way to a group of gasoline barrels. I gave a hoarse yell, but it was no use. In a horrific combustion, a soldier went sailing through the air. I could hear one call out to his body.
“See ya in hell, Frank!”

After a grueling twenty minutes, we emerged sweating on the battle ground. Sarg. was crouching down with the rest of the squad, who were all behind hedgehogs (The large, spiky barriers.) or metal shields with lookout holes. Every now and then they would pop up to deliver a few shots. The Akloy had also taken cover, knowing that aerial combat here was foolish. I told my band to take cover quickly, but even so a few dropped, burnt holes through there chest and skulls. Good fucking shots, I thought. I spotted obscure images of snipers in the distances, but didn’t waste time to observe them. I immediately rolled inside one of the curved shields. I saw the Sarg. was on my far right, gritting his teeth. He glanced at me, yelling an inquiry.
“Where and the hell is Duke, Sergeant!?”
A hand rose in the crowd, but quickly receded as a blue beam narrowly missed it.
“And Mark?”
There was a response.
“Yeah, over here boss.”
Butcher was right beside him, so he yelled out for Rick. How in the hell Butcher got here so fast, I’ll never know.
For a moment, there was no answer. I glanced around, trying to get a quick look. Finally, he leaped out over a tower of flames. He rolled across the soil and halted next to me.
“I’m here, sir.”
“That’s everyone. Now shut the hell up and keep firing!”
I let off a few burst, and then nudged Rick.
“You would make me happy if you took out those damned snipers.”
He nodded in agreement.
“Thanks for reminding me.”
He reset his aim to the very edge of the shield, twisting the scope clockwise for a better zoom. I slid my visor back onto my helmet to reveal a weary face and let a few more bullets go, but they harmlessly glazed the dirt. With a lazy hand I reset the visor in its usual place. Bullet holes seemed copious among the firing range, which didn’t surprise me. How long they had been fighting, I pondered. I looked at my magazines. Three left, I had to make them last.

They didn’t. I let go my last shots, then the chamber clicked empty.
“Fucking day…”
I swore to myself. I looked around for Butcher.
“Hey, I’m out!”
He merely nodded, tossing a clip to me, not even taking his eyes off the targets hunching under the hill. I grabbed it and loaded it in. Rick addressed me.
“Make these count.”
I dwelled on that for the rest of the firefight. Massaging my hands on the stock, I relaxed a little and took a better aim. I pushed the butt into my shoulder to reduce recoil. My eyes glanced for suitable targets. Rick had stopped shooting all together; all the good targets were killed. I let him feel the back of my hand.
“Rick, you lazy bastard, kill something damnit!”
He looked at me with anticipation. I rolled my eyes underneath my visor. I took my relaxed aim again, looking for any openings. Then I spotted my entrance. The temple of a foot soldier was barely revealing itself among the others. I slowly pulled the trigger until it was just barely at its fire point. I stuck my tongue out and curled it out across my face, but receded it back in once I tasted the alloy inside my helm. I let a shot go out. I missed, but the second one struck home. Seeing the image disappear, I felt pleased with myself. I went looking for another target, but noticed something. Everything had stopped firing. The Akloy, us, even the heat of the battle seemed to cool down. Glancing at everyone else, who obviously was looking towards the night sky, I joined them. But I wish I didn’t. I stood gaping under my helm, eventually lifting up my visor to see if it was true. It was the front end of a Quentia Battle Cruiser was speeding straight for the camp. It was sleek and the hull was a greenish tint with a reflection of blue. But there was one difference that struck wonder (Instead of fear) into my mind. It was blazing.

The entire vessel seemed lit up in a brilliant fire that once again made my eyes squint. But I was knocked out from the stun when Sarg. yelled.
“Run like fucking hell!!”
It wasn’t so much an order as advice. We sprinted up the dull gray hill. The Akloy were already flying midair, trying to escape. The turned momentarily to let out a few stray shots, but there were no casualties. I glanced back at the encampment. The cruiser was just yards away form the camp. I yelled.
“Were not gonna make it!”
Mark agreed.
“Hell yeah!”
But Duke seem to think otherwise. He was struggling to keep his glasses on his head, although just eventually let his visor keep them intact.
“Come on now! Don’t be so negative!”
Obviously the ‘Happy Killers’ didn’t affect his optimism. I was about to reply when suddenly, the ground shook. I took a final look back and saw a monstrous explosion erupt from the craft. But this image was worsened by a large wave of sand. The aftershock was so great that it went under the loose dirt and elevated it from there. It was about four feet higher than me. For a moment, I just stopped and stared, my face locked in a disappointed pose. I uttered the last words I would for hours.
“Ah, shit.”
I felt myself flying into the air, being hit by a force strong enough to dent the whole side of a car.


Chapter 6: The Benefit of Doubt

There was a throbbing pulse that sounded like my heart. Thank god, I was still alive. But the rest of my body was numb, even my hearing was second to nothing. Trying to move without much success, I decided to just lay there. Like I had any other choice. After while, however, my senses started to return to me, slowly, but they were still returning. I could slightly twitch my middle finger, and after awhile I could twitch them all except my thumbs. I wanted to keep life in them, or else they might just go numb again. I was starting to feel, which was a gift and a burden. There was a searing pain throughout my body, but it was a welcome stranger in this house of silence. Trying to lift my head with little success, I waited for my body to come into use. I opened my eyes to find warm dirt greeting me. My tongue tasted soil, face smothered in it as well. I tried again to lift my head up, finding that it ascended a bit higher with each passing moment. Figuring I was rather deep in the dirt (Although, not underground), I started to stay still, fearing the struggling would just make me sink lower.

As I sat there, looking like a corpse most likely among others, I started to recite what had happened. “Ok, there was a fucken three O’clock party, some mortars, and explosions. Butcher took out one, and then I was called by Sarg. who apparently was being ambushed by more bastards. Next thing I knew, a mother fucking cruiser crashed into the camp, kicking up all the loose dirt and sending all eighty people flying.” The list went on and on… By the time I was finished, I could fell my legs and tried my best to lift myself up. Surprisingly, I did it with some struggle as mounds of dirt slid off from my back. I figured I looked like a zombie rising from the ashes. Shaking my head, which I then realized just gave me awful headaches, I glanced around. It was in the morning, a grayish fog surrounding the area. Noticing that half my visor was busted open, I flicked away some of the shards. My face was horribly cut, as a few shards were tipped in crusty blood. Plus, I could feel the deep scars across my cheekbones. I tried to walk, but nearly tumbled over.
“I can’t walk worth a shit…”
I said to myself in a hoarse voice.
I was very unbalanced, so I took the next few minutes practicing a right stance and walking posture. Feeling like I was just hit by a washing machine, I strode over the bleak landscape. My weapon was no where in site, and at this point I didn’t really care. I just wanted to find my team and find out what in the hell is going on. Stopping at another body, I checked to see if he was still alive. Placing my two fingers against his throat, I felt for any vital signs. None were present. I flipped him over to find a gruesome site. His jaw was broken off from his face and hanging horribly on the side of his mouth, a swollen tongue lolling. His eyes were wide open, fixed in a state of surprise. Both were a milky white. I nearly shrugged at the site and slowly turned it over. I stopped before he was fully on his stomach again. A jagged, bloodstained rock was in the place of where his head was, pointing viciously towards the sky. Moving his battered body over a few paces, I decided he had suffered enough. Of course, decision making wasn’t very fond of me today, and I merely shrugged and moved on.

I spotted the original dune that the Akloy were attacking from. Yet, it seemed lower for reasons that I could predict. Proceeding to trek over it, I stopped yet again to find another body buried in the sand. Kneeling over, placing my fingers where the throat was. A slow pulse greeted them. I hastily flipped him over to find Rick’s unconscious form. I shook him a few times.
“Get up ya lazy bastard!”
I yelled at him in a spitting image of Sarg. He roused a few moments, muttering.
“Sarg?”
I smiled, replying with.
“No. It’s James.” I said in my normal tone.
He went to make a punch, but his fatigued body wouldn’t let him. His arm rose for a few moments, then shook and fell back onto the dirt. I shook my head, asking him.
“See any other members?”
He shook his head in the best way he could.
“How in the hell am I suppose to know that?” His voice was slurred and weary.
I shrugged, not sure whether he saw me or not.
“You got your weapon with ya?”
“No.”
“Then welcome to the club.”

I dragged his body back over the dune, nearly stumbling down it on the down slope. Resting him against the rocks to recover, I made my way to the one on the opposite side of him. Panting, I took a good look at the camp.
“Wasn’t this a camp a few hours ago?”
I said to no one.
My theory was right. The place enclosed in debris; ship and tent alike. Metal support bars, cloth, tables, sleek green metal beams, it all littered the area. The ship itself was slammed into the middle of the area, still smoking slightly. It had gone from a green to a tarnished brown. The place was an absolute mess. Shaking my head, I leaned it against the rocks. It wasn’t long until two voices came up from behind.
“There they are, sir.”
“No shit, private.”
It was Mark and Sarg. I gritted my teeth. “Why couldn’t he die?” I turned over and addressed Mark.
“Survive, did we Weasel?” He made a cheesy smile for a response.
“Sure did. Seen Rick anywhere?”
I nodded, gesturing over my shoulder.
“Yeah, over there. And that’s Sir to you.”
He rolled his eyes. Mark himself was carrying the weapon, while Sarg remained armless. They were approaching us from the top of the rock mound. Sarg headed straight forward while Mark intended to hop about in a meander direction. The Master Sergeant rolled his eyes to the sky, interrogating me.
“Any signs of Duke or Zach?”

Before I could answer, there was another stumbling noise. Duke came back over the mound, carrying a wounded marine. I sighed and headed over to help. Duke gladly let the burden of his shoulders, actually ‘running’ towards the rest. He always recovered the fastest. Dragging the man over near where Rick was situated, I plopped him down. He coughed and made a comment.
“Hey buddy, not so hard next time.”
“Better than being dead.”
Rick himself was already starting to move a bit. Sarg was questioning Duke as I approached them. Duke was also carrying rifles: two, actually.
“So what of Butcher?”
“I can’t say sir, I never recovered the body. What should we do with the others?”
“They’ll come around, then start shambling there asses back to camp. Guess it makes sense.”
Mark piped up, who was sitting atop a rather high rock with a cigarette shoved in his lips.
“Think we should do some explorin’?”
I responded.
“Explore what, exactly?”
“Eh, was thinking about the ship.”
He gestured towards the cruiser.
Duke held his silence, but Sarg did not.
“And look for what? More rotting corpse to add to ours?”
The private shrugged.
“Dunno, just thought it might help.”
“Well, until you actually got some good, useful shit to say, shut the hell up!”
Duke made a comment again.
“Actually sir, observing the ruin might be a good idea. If any Akloy scouts come up, we could easily hide away. There also might be some weapons that survived the crash.”
Sarg pondered this for a moment, the replied.
“Duke, sometimes I wonder how in the hell did you got in the Corps. Come on maggots, were going raiding.”
“And what of Rick and the other?” I said blankly.
“They’ll be fine here, and I trust that Rick heard our plans?”
He made a pitiful nod.
“Then that’s that. Lets get up to that piece of shit and see what we can savage.”

As we neared the ruins, I noticed the bodies of Quentia surrounded us. They were a bright green color, yet there blood was red. Rick chuckled as he commented.
“Our allies are lizards?”
He had a pretty good idea. The large unguligrade “reptiles” were usually a bright green color, a mentioned. They had spikes on their heads. Males; Bigger than females, with snouts ‘n tails. What more do you want to know?
The corpse count became lighter as we came closer to the ship. Some were impaled into beams, dazzling red blood (They breathed oxygen) splattered across the railing. A few were scorched, bearings completely burned off of them, their wretched, toasted bodies curled up into corners. The wrest layed on the metal or dirt, having a peaceful death. I yawned as we passed them, not one evening twitching. Trying to find something to entertain myself, I called to Duke.
“Hey, can you hand me one of those rifles?”
He tossed one my way and it hit my shoulder. I yelped and swore.
“Damnit! Who taught you how to throw?”
He made a smart comment.
“The corps, sir.”
I mumbled under my breath.
“Jackass…”
Stopping to retrieve the gun, I looked at the weapon, observing for small details that I wanted to know of. It was scratched and dented slightly on the sides. Someone had purposely made a long, winding mark across the left side of the barrel. I smiled.
“Duke, you bastard, this is my rifle!”
He shrugged, replying.
“Hmph, I didn’t know. At least you got it back now.”
I shook my head. I still thought he was a bastard.

As we moved deeper into the ruins, I failed to take some air samples. The smarter ones had already done so. Of course, it was really hard to find “smart” enlisted marines. I flicked my wrist downwards quickly and felt the small click. Small text appeared on the right hand corner of my HUD. It read “Please Wait…”, and after a few moments, statistics popped up. Everything was fine, except for the slight measurement of Petroleum gas. (Their resources are similar to ours, but much more plentiful.) I called out to the others.
“Anyone notice the gas in here?”
Sarg. nodded and Duke replied with.
“Yeah, I did.”
Mark added his comment.
“Gas? There’s gas in here?”
“Of course, if you would have taken an air sample, you would have already known that.”
He nagged his head left to right, mocking me. I ignored the cocky recruit, knowing that he was voted “Most likely to get shot” at the academy.

It grew darker and darker the deeper we went, eventually to the point where we had flick on the bright lights equipped to our weapons. Those who where armless simply used the backup light on their chest plate. They seemed a lot brighter in the waxing darkness. Every now and then there would be grey shafts of light that sliced through our opaque surroundings, coming from scars in the ragged hull. I trudged along, having no idea where our destination was. But finally after what seemed like hours, Sarg told us to halt. We where at the middle (Or near the middle) of the ship. His sharp eyes narrowed as he removed his light, shining it in random directions. I started on saying “What are you doing?”, but barely got in ‘What are?’ before he interrupted me with his own comment.
“Ssh! Quite, damnit, you don’t hear it?”
I stopped and poured my senses into my ears, straining them to hear anything. Something caught them, but it was obscure and not easy to make out. I kept listening, trying to make out anything that I could understand. Eventually realizing that it wasn’t any particular sound I would be familiar with, Sarg. became impatient and beckoned us to follow as he walked off to the general direction that the noise was emitting. We were getting closer as I realized it sounded something like chanting. The voice was smooth, yet deep and has a hiss to it. It was the sound of a Qentia.


Chapter 7: Tactics

We drew closer to the sound as it grew it noise level. I was relieved to find something else besides us still breathing. Through several more bodies and more crusted blood, I spotted the form. It was slumped against yet another smoking chunk of tarnished metal. It seemed to be alone. As we neared it, I saw that a short pipe was impaled through him, but it obviously hadn’t hit anything vital. He had torn some parts from his tattered bloodstained cloak (Signifying his rank as a minor pilot) to stop the bleeding. He chanted in his native language, obviously some sort of healing method. With his free hand he had created a large complex glyph in the dirt. Yet another method in ‘healing.’ Of course, none of the shit worked, but it was a nice thought.

Sarg. stood over the thing, a displeased look on his face.
“Humph, no use now.”
I sighed, replying to his comment.
“Can we shut up and get this one some help?”
Sarg. strayed his eyes over to Mark. He looked to the ceiling for a moment, searching for inspiration. After a brief moment, he approached him, whispering feign words of encouragement. He himself just kept chanting. However, he looked up to me and stopped his tongue. His eyes had a faraway look. I could tell now he was somewhat young. Mark was busy trying to find a correct way to get him form the pipe. I smiled and turned to Sarg.
“Didn’t know we had a medic.”
He spat on the ground near Mark and the other.
“A rather sloppy medic, but he gets the job done.”
“I try to get the job done.” Mark remarked.
Sarg. countered with his own cruel judgment.
“There’s a difference between ‘trying’ and ‘doing’.”
Duke sat sullen on some debris behind us. I tried to past time by asking our guest a question.
“What’s your name, son?”
He hesitated, and then replied with rough English.
“I be Do’Sik.”
I nodded and continued.
“How did this ship get from up there,” I pointed towards the ceiling, in which I meant in flight. “To down here?”
I waited for him to launch into his tale.
“I was just simple pilot for tis ship, Green Claw, and captain say there biga fleet comin’, comrade. They be Akloy, course, strike hard from side. We orbit on right side of planet, and they hide in the shadow, they did. It bigga too, we know not how it got here past sensor. They just hit undersides of shipas. They fall down real quick like. Alotta died…”
His voice trailed off. Obviously he didn’t have anymore to say.
“Poor kid.” I felt a small anguish of grief, but it almost immediately dispersed and I suddenly didn’t care anymore.
“Well, don’t worry, were going to get you out.”
Do’Sik managed a weak smile, and his face crunched into a grimace as Mark did a little tugging on the pipe, seeing if it was loose or not. I sat down with Duke, who had the entire time held his silence. I managed to question him with an answer.
“Why are you so hushed?”
He didn’t even look at me when he replied. In fact, he wasn’t looking at anything. Closer observations revealed that he was focusing on his blind.
“You haven’t noticed? There is a surprising amount of gas in here, and I’ve sampled some liquids. Fuel, by the stats. This place hasn’t burned out fully, yet.”
I snorted.
“Not a happy thought.”
“Quite…”
Sarg. was jotting down notes that Do’Sik had said. He didn’t actually write it down on paper, but instead had used the setting in the suit that recorded thoughts. It was nice if you didn’t have the necessary materials, but there was of course a cost. The words are often obscure and not very understandable, usually missing main details. Grammar wasn’t very accurate, either. Plus, it can give you one bitch of a headache. Mark conversed with Do’Sik, trying to make the Quentia cooperate.
“No, just move a little to the, Aught! Wanna give yourself an infection, don’t you? Ok, look, you just stay still ok?”
Do’Sik made a wry face and did as he was told. Eventually he was sitting on the ground, the bloody shaft detached. Mark worked on patching him up. I ventured another interrogation.
“Were than any ships that didn’t get knocked out of orbit?”
He nodded painfully.
“Yes, there ships that stay up high. They send soldiers real quicka like.”
Duke finally piped up.
“Got any weapons?”
He reached through his smock and retrieved an odd looking weapon.
“Me find. Simple pistol, but good and useful, yes.”
Its shape was bent into a ‘U’ so that it wrapped easily around the owner’s hand. It was colored in a dull blue that turned purple when reflected in the light. I didn’t find any noticeable ‘barrel.’ Duke flicked his head in his own direction.
“Toss it here, you won’t be needing it.”
He gave a lazy throw that swayed slightly to the right. Duke stretched out and caught it, stuffing the weapon into a container on his thigh.

I volunteered to carry Do’Sik out, for his legs were numb from just sitting on them for hours on end. He took a moment to bless the ruins and we scavenged through more winding debris and darkness. Obviously he did more than push buttons. The entrance lied just ahead, and we were greeted by a few troops camping near it. One waved to our party.
“God damn you guys are slow!”
I immediately recognized the voice. Old Butcher had found a way past the searing talons of death. He never was an easy kill. I called back to him.
“Zach, you bastard, how do you keep managing to survive everything?”
He laughed heartily, avoiding the question.
“In case you want to know, Rick is with the others scavenging for radio parts.”
Sarg.’s distinctive voice replied this time.
“Good, he’s making himself useful. I gotta go take a leak, don’t blow anything up while I’m gone, if you can handle yourself.”
Butcher smiled.
“Can’t promise you anything, sir.”
The man’s blunt face held no expression as he rolled his eyes. Mark, his sharp features dampened by sweat, took a seat near a makeshift tent. He commented as he seated himself.
“Damn, it’s hotter than hell in there.”
A soldier made a remark about the heat.
“Trying sitting on your ass out here for hours.”
He flipped up his visor and wiped his brow. I scratched my rough chin, watching as the Sarg. came back from around a corner.
“Shut your whining, greenhorn! Complaining ain’t going to fix the heat.”
He mumbled a weak “Yes sir”.

While admiring Sarg.’s ‘tough guy’ act, I noticed something out the corner of my eye. I turned to take a full view of it, figuring out that it was another ship racing towards the earth. The air around it was tinted red with flames. I shook my head, such a waste of good metal. It wasn’t long until another voice cried out behind me. A random soldier.
“What’s with the lizard? He the only one?”
Do’Sik hissed viciously. He remarked with a hoarse laugh.
“I’m trembling in my boots.”
He made another hiss, but this time with words (More like sounds) thrown in. Of course, it was nothing I could understand, so I won’t bother trying to decipher them. I turned to them both. Shaking my head, I tried to mediate them both.
“Shut it, marine.”
I watched as Do’Sik’s face changed into an image of victory.
“Oh god, I’m defending a giant reptile.” I thought to myself, slightly disgusted.
I nearly jumped at the sound of Sarg.’s voice from behind.
“Trying to keep the peace, ain’t we, Callow?”
I chuckled and replied to him.
“I do my best, sir.”
He looked over to the sky. His eyes soften for a moment.
“Sometimes, that isn’t enough.”
But it didn’t last long, for just as his head turned, his face was stone again. He barked out orders.
“Duke, when the radio parts arrive, get them together. Butcher, rally the marines. Mark, watch the liz--….”
He paused, trying to find the correct word.
“…Civilian.”
He turned to the rest.
“Get off your asses and search the perimeter for any signs of Akloy.”
He turned to me last.
“James, come with me.”
There was an applause of “Yes sir!” and everyone scuttled to start there appointed task. Sarg. led me down to the western entrance of the ruins. I stopped as he did, but ventured a question.
“Was there something you wanted, sir?”
Turning to me, he began.
“Alright, here’s the layout. Once the radio is fixed, we will get command to send us a few transports. Most likely I will be sent to the HQ for a more detailed interrogation.”
He paused, then suddenly changed subject.
“For some reason god only knows, I have a bad feeling about this.”
My eyebrow cocked above the opposite. I was wondering why he was telling me this, but I managed to cough up another wonderment.
“About what, sir?”
“This whole god damn mission. The Akloy, Hunak, everything just seems out of place. We could repel them all in one fell swoop, I’ve seen their fleet, it’s horribly small. If we could just get the pilots to just…”
His voice trailed off like so many others who ventured to deep into unknown territory...
I grew curious.
“To just, what?”
He waved the question away. His voice sounded tired.
“I don’t know. I’m old, too old. Just have a feeling, alright?”
He beckoned me again.
“Come on, let’s get the hell out of here and check on Butcher.”
“Yes sir.”
I followed the Sergeant, wondering if this was the same man I met. His shell was tough, assertive. But he seemed to be wiser than anyone I’ve met, even General Smith himself (Which I myself have never met). The Quentia were helpful enough, and I guess the Marines had a good grip on things. But Sarg. was barely ever wrong. If he had a bad felling about this, then by hell, it was going to turn out bad most likely. But I didn’t need to worry about that now. Just needed to focus on the task at hand.

We were greeted by an empty space, and when it seemed like I was going to get some R&R, my superior whisked me off on another task. I was to assist Butcher with gathering the troops. He planned on us both assisting, but something else must have distracted him. I ran too the demolitionist, holding out my arm above my head to be more noticeable.
“Wait up ya moron!”
He stopped and waited for me to get within earshot.
“Kiss my ass.”
I ignored him and caught up with his group. We walked awhile, yelling out at anyone we could see. Something caught my eye, however. Zach was limping on his right leg every now and then. I couldn’t hold my tongue.
“Not as invincible as we thought, are we?”
He laughed a good hearty laugh before responding.
“Yeah, landed on my leg the wrong way and ripped a tendon.”
“Pfft, everyone landed on there leg the wrong way. Hell, I landed on ‘empty space’ the wrong way.”
He shook his head, smiling. Coming around the bend, we met with Rick and Duke and their party. The scavenged goods were evenly divided among the rest. After a short chat, they trekked back to were Sarg. was located and we kept going our way. Three times we shambled around it, even though two would have been sufficient enough. Butcher wanted to make sure he didn’t return without all of them.

My weary legs carried this tired body up a slope to the rest of them. Seated around a small fire (To this day I still wonder were the fire came from.), they ate any rations they could find and conversed. I plopped down beside Rick; his helmet removed revealing his black ponytail and rugged features. I mimicked by removing my helm too, and for a moment no one said a word. However, I was the one to break the silence this time.
“Don’t you find it odd that Sarg. seems to be the highest ranking officer here?”
Rick made no expressions in his response. His voice was flat and serious.
“No.”
I wasn’t satisfied with his answer.
“What about the lieutenants and other sergeants?”
“They left long before that crazy ass party started.”
“Wonder why…”
“Don’t ask me.”
“Why would I?”
I ended the conversation smiling. He rolled his eyes and hoisted himself up from his seat. He had found his rifle, as most weapons had been recovered and re distributed. He searched around for rations while Do’Sik replaced his seat. He greeted me.
“Rentaio Adui, human.”
I greeted him back without looking at him.
“Hello to you, too.”
He cackled and questioned me.
“I did not catch your name…”
“James, and I believe you’ve already introduced yourself. Wonder why Sarg. isn’t making anymore interrogations…”
He sighed and glanced around at random. I rekindled his interest with another hesitated question.
“So…what happened to your…Err, ‘Captain’?” I asked.
“Oh, there called shamans, notta captain like you humans call them. Shaman Overo’Pif, he says. He wasn’t a major officer there, but good friend, yes. I thought he make good decisions. But now he’s dead.”
I didn’t give a crap if he was dead. I wanted to feel pity, but the damned suit kept me from that. On the battle field, there was no room for grief or pity. But when it came to a social environment, they can help you. I couldn’t do that. My face was blunt and showed no expression. Di’Sik looked away and frowned with disappointment.
“Emotional suppressers hate much.”
I look of surprise suddenly blanketed my face me.
“How do you know of those?”
He kept his silence. I tried to bite my tongue, unless I say something stupid. However, a comment burst from my lips.
“Well, it’s not like you care about anyone here.”
Do’Sik was silent for a moment, but replied.
“Of course not. No one else to care about. Just humans…”
He didn’t mean this as an insult. I could tell he was trying to open up a point, but I never captured his meaning. After a long silence, he sighed and turned back to me.
“It gets late. Grenock Lagario, James.”
He insisted on saying my name in more of ‘Jemes’ then James. He walked off nearer to the fire, trying to get some warmth. Butcher, who was not too far away, called to me.
“Did James make a new friend?”
I rolled my eyes.
“It was just a chat.”
I tried not to make it sound like I enjoyed talking to him. The marine laughed and gave a cruel comment.
“You’d rather talk to a reptile then talk to another person?”
It was another random marine.
I opened my mouth to speak, but Sarg. beat me to him. His voice rang out among the crowd.
“Can it, Marine.”
The one he addressed grumbled and remained silent. Ignoring the bothersome man, I let myself fall onto an empty ration back, the shell of the bag rather comforting, enclosed in velvet. Soon, my eyes fluttered, and my breathing slowed. Sleep enveloped me.
__________
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Post #3 May 25 2007, 07:52 PM Flak
Whoo. And, finally, Chapter Eight.

Once more...Enjoy.
__________
Chapter 8: Departure of the Ruins

I awoke early in the morning to find an eerie mist greeting me. Everyone else was asleep, or so it seemed. Counting the slumbering forms, I found one missing. I could immediately tell that it was Rick. Son of a bitch, sneaking of like that. I felt like snapping his neck for all his underhanded stunts for attention. Letting a massive yawn escape my throat, I shambled over to the smoldering fire pit. Taking careful precautions not to step on anybody, I looked for anything that would be suitable for breakfast. The injections hadn’t quite kicked in yet, so I was starving for a bite of food. After some ransacking, I discovered the familiar dull green container of timeless provisions. There was half a ration left inside it, and it was probably the only one left. I ate in silence, trying to keep the expired meal down. I managed to do so, although it could have been less chewy. I tossed it over my shoulder in a random direction, not caring if it hit anyone. I watched the mist float through the morning, cold and damp. The dirt around me was also damp with dew, and the air was cold. It didn’t seem possible for such a hot planet to be cold. It wasn’t icy; it wasn’t cool, just…cold.

When I wasn’t bickering to myself about the temperature, I set my mind on other things.
“I don’t get it either. We could of just of easily crashed through there fleet. The FDM is holding back, like they want the Akloy to win. Well, fuck that, I’m sure as hell ain’t going to back down without a fight. Sarg. was right, there is an aura of something bad around this mission, this whole project. I wonder if the radios fixed yet. Heh, if Dukes had his hands on it, it probably won’t be that long. The troops are weary, and there aren’t enough marines to cover the entire planet. They could have just sent in the ar-“
I shook this thought from my head.
“No, never. Not that group of blind shit holes. Can’t let the Army take all the credit, so I guess the marines were meant for this. Yeah, I like it this way better.”
But it didn’t matter how much I suppressed this thought, I knew they were a reliable force. Maybe they weren’t as well as trained, and maybe our suits were a bit better, but they are numerous. Even if they don’t have as good as training, I’ve seen some pretty badass soldiers out there. I couldn’t decide, and I wanted this thought to leave my head. I went on thinking about other miscellaneous events.

Eventually I lulled myself back to sleep with thinking. I was tired of trying to stay awake until the others awoke. Being the ‘hero’ of the group was a load of crap. There was no room for mortality in the battlefield. Three hours later my eyes popped open to a cacophony of voices. They were awake, and were letting everyone know. I trudged over near rim of the crowd. Most had gone off to other parts of the camp-Although they were more like ruins-to do whatever they were required to do. Sarg. was happy this morning, yelling at orders across the gathering people.
“McKenzie, get your ass up to second squad and get everyone topside!”
“Stuart, find Duke and get me that god damn radio!”
“James, about time you woke up! Butcher is down by the south entrance, patrolling for hostiles. Haul ass, soldier.”
I made a hasty salute and listened as the yelling and converse diminished behind me. It was as gray and hot as usual, but the good rest made things seem easier to cope with. I spotted Butcher meandering around the space, and as I neared I spotted Rick, too. He had taken up position on the highest dune and was in a prone position, rifle at ready. I looked upwards to the blotted sky. I started to rely on its pale expression for any form of influence. None ever came, but it would become a hobby. Among the two I knew, there was two others with us. As I passed one jotting down something on a notepad, I gave a lazy wave and addressed him.
“So, ‘ole Sarg. put you with us, eh?”
He gave a sober nod, and then replied nervously.
“Yes sir.”
I chuckled.
“What did you expect? Spoon feed ya rations?
“No sir…”
“Names James, by the way.”
“Yeager, sir; Private.”
“Staff Sergeant meself, just call me second in command.”
He sighed and saluted.
“Yes sir.”
I stifled a laugh, trying to act serious and set a good example.
“Nah, I get ordered by Sarg. You don’t need any of that shit. Just do as you’re told and we’ll get along real nice, won’t we Butcher?”
He gave the thumbs up and nodded from a distance. Yeager nodded sadly and continued with his notes.

I didn’t bother with the other one, for he seemed to be doing something more important. He was checking the scavenged weapons for any jams or damaged niches. Instead, I was situated atop the dune with Butcher, walking back and forth across it. We went opposite directions and whenever we passed each other, we would trade tidbits of rumors or small talk. We watched nothing for hours, and I was beginning to forget what I was looking for. But fortunately, Rick gave out a call.
“Scouting party, a few clicks south.”
I strained my eyes to see the small figures shambling across the wasteland. Their white armor made it a bit easier. I smiled at Butcher, who in turn gave a smirk back, although I barely noticed it.
“I’m sure Sarg. won’t mind if were away for just a sec.”
He nodded replying.
“Aye, lets blow us some brains. You in Rick?”
I watched as he pondered for a moment, and then shook his head.
“I rather keep my rank, thank you.”
“Suit yourself, come on, James.”
“Hold on for a moment.” I said.
I trekked back down the hill and called to the hunched figure.
“Hey, greenhorn!”
Yeager looked up from his studies. I twitched my neck in the direction my and my companion were about to travel.
“Hope your trigger finger’s itchy.”
He yelled back as he dropped his notes and jogged towards us.
“Yes Sir. I’ve been dying for some action.”
“Ha! It’s just a skirmish. Stay frosty, though.”
He nodded in respect to me. I turned to Rick and made a motion that represented my neck snapping, and then pointed to him, mouthing threats. He shrugged and said.
“There’s worse things than that.”
I smiled at his wisdom.
“That’s what you think.”
My little party hiked to the direction of the Akloy, wondering what their insides looked liked.

Even as we ran along, Yeager grew nervous. With some stuttering, he ventured an inquiry.
“Err; are we…Allowed to do this?”
I shrugged in response.
“I don’t know, but I’m bored as hell. Can’t afford to miss this chance.”
But the ever worried Yeager kept throwing worried subjects.
“I mean, what if we get caught?”
“We won’t.”
“And what of the Akloy!”
“Just a skirmish. Calm down.”
“But what if they attack us first!?”
“There’s enough. Besides, we’ll see em, although I doubt they’ll attack before we.”
‘But what if-“
“What if the General gave out candy? Look kid, you can come or not, your choice. No ones going to stop you…”
The last comment came from me. I paused and looked to Butcher.
“Except maybe him. He likes shooting stuff.”
My answer finally calmed his nerves. He nodded in agreement.
“Ok, ok, sorry. I’ll keep it cool. It’s just; I’m new and stuff…”
I patted him on the shoulder.
“Nah, stay with us and you’ll be fine.”
He nodded his head once again and mostly kept his composure. Mostly.

When we neared, Butcher, who was in the lead, held up his hand and made a circular motion. We immediately took cover behind the many, many rocks. He peeked over the shelter, scanning for the enemy. Three obscure images were in the horizon. Bingo. I readied my rifle, but it hit me. Our weapons were designed for medium range only.
“Ah, fuck. No one bought any snipes?”
I swore aloud, well out of earshot from the insects. Butcher sat pondering for a moment.
“Damnit, I thought you brung something!”
I replied.
“Oh, so now I’m the god damned replacement Rick?”
“No, but you sure as hell could be more responsible.”
I looked stunned.
“It’s not MY fucken’ job!”
“Th-...Yo-...Oh, fuck it; let’s just go kill the bastards.”
Yeager piped up.
“How, sir?”
Butcher looked dumbstruck, but not because he didn’t know what to do.
“Uhh…We shoot them…”
Shaking my head, I glanced around for possibility.
“Well, we better hurry. There getting away!”
Butcher was knocked back into reality, tossed away from it thanks to Yeager’s stupid question.
“Ah, hell no!”
Yelled out Butcher. Agitated, I replied angrily.
“What, did you suspect the bastards to just wait there and have a god damned tea party?”
Again, Zach questioned no one.
“What in the Hell is stopping us from just dashing up there and blowing their fucking brains out!? I mean, fuck! Just a few hundred yards away, and we can’t fucking haul ass and blow their god damned heads back ta New New Mexico!”
Finally he stopped he river of cussing, but not before managing one final
‘Fuck!’
However, as second-in-command, it was my duty to answer him. Even if he was stupid.
“Because, dumbass, if they catch us out on this flat plain, they’ll fucking slaughter us! There are no damned rocks anywhere besides here, and I’m sure as Hell not volunteering as bait.”
Everyone was silent for a moment, the only exception being my final comment.
“Besides, it’ll take too long to reach them ‘fore a certain Sergeant notices we’re missing.”
A few disappointing moments later, Butcher replied grimly.
“I guess you’re right. Let’s get back ‘ta camp…”
His final judgment was accompanied by a sigh in discontent.
With moral stunted, we shambled lazily back to our patrol zones.
‘What a waste of time.’ I thought.

Meandering was evident as we trekked through the desert-like wasteland. Our footsteps made confusing paths all through the sand. This was just a ditch effort to find any action. None came. Looking up to the dull skies, I searched for any signs of interest. For a moment, I felt simply like just staring at it aimlessly. Nothing had a point to me at this summit. But, then something caught my interest. It was small, copper-colored, and slowly heading north-east, coming from the south-west. Stopping while the others continued, I narrowed my eyes and slide my visor up to get a better look. Butcher noticed that I had stopped and called to me.
“Yea, it’s all pertty and crap, but our job isn’t too look at the clouds, sir.”
I waved him away, then after another second beckoned him.
“Come over here, fat ass, and take a look at this.”
He walked over, Yeager close behind. He glanced up at the sky, too, yet saw nothing.
“Uh, yeah, gray clouds. That’s really interesting…”
He was about to leave when I knocked him on the back, not taking my eyes off the dull, moving spot.
“No, you idiot, look closer!”
I cared enough to point at the blotch. He rolled his eyes and came over; scanning the area I had motioned at. For a moment, there were no comments. However, Butcher broke the silence again with his musky voice.
“Well, I’ll be a volunteer soldier, you were right…”
He paused.
“…What in the hell is that anyways?”
I shrugged and pulled a curious expression on my face. Yeager made a suggestion.
“Err; Rick has a sniper rifle, doesn’t he, Sir? Maybe he can get a better…”
He was cut off by my outburst.
“Of course! The bastard has a scope!”
Yeager sounded small.
“That’s, what I just…said…Sir…”
Replies were all damned. Mine was no different.
“Yes, you’re very smart. Now shut up and sit down…”
Without another word, I walked over the Rick, who in which was still lying in his same position.

Yet, his mug was face down and a snoring sound emitted from his throat. I rolled my eyes and gave a swift kick. He was roused and looked up.
“Son of a bitch…What do you want?”
I jerked my head in the direction and walked off. Rick just sat there, relatively impassive. I stopped and sighed greatly.
“It means ‘follow me!’”
I yelled at him. He gave a lazy effort and got up, stretching out. A yawn accompanied him as he trekked down the hill to me. Butcher and Yeager stayed behind for look out, while I pointed out the blotch. He gave a good long look at it, and then shouldered the butt of his rifle in position. Peering through the scope, which was exceptionally powerful, he gave another long look at the minute dot, following its movements nearly perfectly. After what seemed like hours, Rick reported.
“Transport ship. ‘Bout three miles. Maybe more. Maybe less. Heading west at a speed of about-“
He paused to peer through his scope again.
“Four-hundred miles per hour. Maybe Five hundred.”
Maybe, maybe, maybe. I made another query.
“Is it coming here?”
I received a rash answer.
“Hell if I know.”
He walked back to his post. I followed, but only after taking another good look at the speck.

The positions were filled, the soldiers were occupied, and Hunak was searing. As always. Minutes stretched themselves into hours as me and everyone else sat and looked. We looked and sat, and all the other shit. I was positioned in the front entrance, trekking back and forth across the wide entrance. Not even really paying attention to my job, I just stared at my boots as they moved across the dirt, watching how the gravel fell. Butcher sat on a rock moving a bullet across his fingers in a smooth motion. Rick slept; His arrangement deceived others into thinking he was doing something important. After a long hushed moment, I couldn’t take it. My voice pierced the air.
“Damn it, there isn’t even anything out here!”
Butcher managed a sluggish ‘Ooh-rah.’ However, I continued my bitching.
“We’ve been sittin’ out here fer about 3 hours, and what do we get? Absou-fucking-lutely nothing! No action once so ever!”
Butcher again commented.
“Well, there was that short lil’ skirmish shit.”
I agreed hastily.
“Eh, that wasn’t action. Just a load of bullshi-“
Yeager interrupted.
“Sirs, Can I ask something?”
Without turning my head to face him, I answered.
“What?”
More or less, it was a command. Yeager hesitated, but eventually turned and pointed at the massive wreckage.
“How did that happen…Sir?”
I compl…compli…thought over this question. However, my mood was somber and open.
“Well…According to Do’Sik…”
I paused, surprised that I remember the ‘thing’s’ name. I continued soon, however.
“Anyways, he said that the ship was ambushed by the Akloy and fell from the sky. It was in low orbit.”
Yeager nodded, but didn’t seem quite satisfied just yet.
“And so…Where did the ship come from, sir?”
I answered quickly.
“Quentia.”
“Quen-…What?”
Yeager replied with curiosity. I sighed as a reaction. Reluctantly, I peppered the boy with the tidbits of information I recalled from one of the many briefings.
“It’s a rock; a planet. Supposedly, it’s really lush ‘n green ‘n the sorts.”
It was short but mainly answered the probing Private’s indirect request for an answer. Yeager himself nodded with minimal understanding.

Then Silenced reigned once again. Yet, instead of a bored attitude towards it, I reveled in the rare moment. For one I wasn’t being asked questions, yelled at, commanded, or being shot at. But most of all, I wasn’t being shot at. That was the fun part.

Unfortunately, a dull, weary experience happily trotted into my wits. But this time, I was prepared for its onslaught; images of things I’d rather be doing right now. First it was walking, and then it was shooting. Afterwards, it turned into being commanded by Sarg. Yes, I was that desperate for something else to accomplish. Butcher watched the horizon tediously. Nothing ever sparked in his movements aside from the occasional straightening of the spine to view something out of his vision. Otherwise, nothing ever came. Yeager did what was needed to be done. And obviously that was to write. Why would anyone in the world want to write? Complete waste of time, really…

My patience snapped like my happiness when I learned Mark survived the crash. Rising from my personal little stone, I rambled away from the watch. No one seemed to mind nor notice, all content on completing whatever task they had set forth. Unless that whoever was on watch duty. They were just bored. None of my watch mates questioned me too severely on my depart, although I supposed no one really cared. Butcher, however, glanced over his shoulder and pondered.
“Where the hell are you going?”
With a lazy wave, my answer was deplorable.
“Going somewhere.”
Zach shrugged and turned back to scanning the horizon.

My new objective was to find Sarg. and request a different task. My chances were about one in three million, but I was willing to risk it. The path I took slowly rose up as I meandered towards the massive reminder of why I was here. About midway, I stopped. To this day I can never explain why I did. An urge came over me. Slowly I turned away form the monolith, towards the waste of Hunak. Below me were the simple soldiers of my affiliation. A few walked about, facing an external structure which housed the reward of their labor. Others, the unlucky sentinels of a fruitless cause, dotted the edges of the desolate camp. Others, still, did nothing; Oblivious to what fate the unknown had transfixed before them. I wondered about them; where were they to be when this conflict was to cease? Did any of them have families? Children? Wives?
Suddenly, I felt a surge of pain throughout my body. Then, there was a constant beeping emitting from the suit; Then, dizziness.

Then, confusion; then, serenity.

Then, I was free. The suppressers of my suit malfunctioned, the liquid ceased to afflict its affect. My mind was flourished with thoughts of the irrelevant. Delta, Alpha, HQ, they all made no sense anymore. What was I fighting for? Why?

A qualm tethered my mind. The Happy Killers, bit by agonizing bit, were destroying my retreat of this harsh reality. The suit felt heavier, a burden of my own incompetence. My failure to realize the hidden…
“Why the hell am I standing here again…?”
I asked myself. I honestly couldn’t answer the question. At the bottom of my visor it read
‘/delete=s:file_memory.fdm.26:14:03’
and as it faded, the pattern
‘/patch=s:file_memory.fdm.26:14:04.halt_generic.bsb.’
Apeared.
I had no idea what that meant, either.
But, whatever the reason, it sure as hell didn’t matter. I’m here to shoot.

Turning, I continued my linear walk towards the tall, outstretched spoils. Inside I found the familiar, make-shift ‘office,’ as everyone calls it. The Office of Spit, named for the fact Sarg. almost always leaves you wiping the side of your cheek after an order or lecture. Anyhow, I entered to find only two people, neither of which I particularly cared about. Duke was seated among one of many generic seats, busy at something that invoked a pencil. Do’Sik was keeping him company, he himself upon his hands and feet, groveling around the ruin, obviously searching for whatever needs to be found. Ignoring the naïve creature, I approached Duke instead. With a stern voice, I asked.
“Seen Sarg. anywhere?”
Duke sniffed, as if uninterested in the question. However, he still replied.
“Nope; he went down to the west side to sort out some problems with the equipment. Said there was something wrong with the Injections…The heat or something…”
He paused, glanced at his green companion, sighed, then continued all In one fluid motion.
“And left me to babysit.”
With a swift laugh I seated myself next to the crabby man. A humorous tenor in my throat, I whispered to him.
“’Ow ‘bout we…Skin ‘n up ‘n eat ‘em?”
I said, referring to Do’Sik. Expecting a respond that went by the ‘Code of Conduct,’ I managed to predict his answer within my head. I was right.
“Shut it, Patterson?”
Again I chuckled. The reply was expected, but not unwanted. Do’Sik probably was pissing Duke off.
“Ya know, I can take over that post…”
I offered reluctantly. This time, Duke was expected.
“No. I’m not getting my ass chomped off for abandoning my post.”
With a pause and a brief glance at my figure, he continued.
“And if you had any sense, you would return to yours.”
Again I chuckled. With a pat to his shoulder, a nipping respond escaped my lips.
“He won’t know about that…Will he?”
My grip tightened to emphasize my meaning. Duke merely ignored me.

After a moment, I once again gestured to the Lizard.
“What the hell is he doin’, anyhow?”
Duke replied dully.
“Sarg. has him searching for weapons and whatnot. He’s already been through the lower centre…”
He pointed to the pile of salvaged weapons and other miscellaneous items. Without much consideration, I hefted myself from my seat and trudged to the mass. A careless gauntlet rummaged through the seemingly useless items. Do’Sik immediately stopped his crawling and stood up. I could glance at the figure form the corner of my eye. He reminded me of a Hound, raising itself as if to observe an unknown sound. Nevertheless, he stood upon his two emerald feet, watching me like a silent sentinel. Reaching randomly, I pulled out a large, rifle-like weapon. As strange as it was, I could still describe it. The grip was in a ‘V’ shape and very deep. Atop the handle were two appendages that jutted from the butt sharply that seemed to curve over the unusual weapon. From there, a narrow...I can’t say barrel. It was more like two lengthy plates that ran parallel to each other. The color was a rusted brown with hints of a philosophical green reflection against the metal surface.

I hadn’t the slightest clue to what it was and how it was used. Dozens of rotations and wry expressions later, I gave up upon the item. With the thought of ‘Put it back into the pile,’ I curved down and placed it back into its prison. Suddenly, the Quentia burst from his silence.
“Why does the sky give birth to metal birds?”
Asking no one in particular, his voice was staid. A smooth claw pointed into the colorless space, through a gash in the ruins. I and my grumpy friend both immediately looked up into the direction of his gesture. Sure enough, a small, russet dot dove down to earth from the dreary clouds.

However, this dot only barely gripped my vision. The gleam of the broken visor was rather annoying as well. Traveling at a slow speed, it gradually speeded up until up again, it went. Then, the point was swallowed up by the skies, once again. For a moment, me and Duke just stared. Everyone was silent; even the Quentia was dumb. However, I broke the silence with an inquiry. I noticed that the tone I possessed was surprisingly temperate, lacking any dramatic expression to it.
“What the fuck was that, Sikky?”
I nearly stopped myself at the end of my previous comment.
‘Sikky?’ I questioned myself.
Although I didn’t really care about anything he said at all, I listened anyways. I did know his vision was sharper than mine.
“I could not tell. It flees from sight like sneaky predator.”
His unusual references amused me. Nevertheless, my response was mocking.
“Yes. Predator hides from Hunters.”
Do’Sik did not catch this. He merely nodded in agreement, and continued his search.

After Do’Sik finished probing the hidden corners of the mess, we sat. Sat and breathed. Breathed and sat. I could never recollect why we just remained still. Not a word spoken, either. Duke was persistent enough to jot down random notes and orientations upon his paper. Do’Sik stayed because Sarge. probably told him to. I, on the other hand, had something more interesting to entertain myself than staring at dirt for hours on end. Eyes were searching the pile for anything that could be useful to my cause later in the game; my eyes to be exact. However, even this started to tire my weary mind. Boredom began to creep up my spine once again. Prepared this time, fortunately, I scanned the room for any means of escape from the dry environment. Only one solution came to my desperate brain:
Leave. Through the front door.
And so I did just that. Armored legs excitedly pulled my body into its usual upright position, eager to move again. With a casual stroll, I approached the nearest gash in the wall. Duke curiously spoke to me.
“And where are you going?”
Not knowing how to answer, I replied sternly.
“Back to my post before my ass gets chomped off.”
He remained silent, his own words thrown back into his face.

Outside, the dust was blowing hard against my suit: Didn’t feel a thing, either. Yet, something didn’t feel right about this wind. Hunak wasn’t famous for its ‘amazingly powerful winds,’ and this one had quite a push. Even as I meandered down what was left of the path, my gate eventually slowed to a halt. With a queer expression within my retinas, I gazed upon the flats. And, to my surprise, ships were landing amongst the rim of the camp. All I could do was look in disbelief.

They were Doves, the standard drop ships of the FDM. The noses were narrow and square, while two broad wings jutted from the sides near the back. Speaking of the back, a massive rectangular shape was attached to the underbelly. This was obviously where the soldiers were held. It looked removable it observed at the right angle, and it was. Extremely influential magnets lifted metal vehicles, equipment, and whatever else was steeled enough to be raised. Anyhow, enough with the geography of the thing; I was more interested in finding a ride. My oblivious companions were too preoccupied to exam anything else except their current surroundings. Gradually, a broad smile expanded across my lips. A few yards away from the rest, my throat burst with a hearty chuckle. After a few moments of praising no one in particular, calmness engulfed my posture once again. Not before I managed a quiet ‘Oo-Rah’ under my breath, though.
It was like tossing a quarter into a fountain and making a wish. Only, this wish came true.

But, no matter how enthusiastic I was, I still needed to alert the others. Reluctantly, I jogged back up to the ruin and spotted the other two. In a low voice, as if I didn’t want to hear me, I quickly muttered the comment.
“There’s ships ‘n stuff outside…”
Unfortunately, I underestimated Duke’s hearing capabilities. He addressed me with a hint of anticipation.
“What did you say?”
I sighed and spoke it more clearly, but still at a quick rate.
“There are ships outside and they’re doing stuff…”
As soon as the words had sputtered from my throat, I left, hoping they’d be dumbstruck enough for me to have my own little seat.

But, like I said, Duke had a good ear. So, the two burst from the structure, staring over the horizon. They, too, saw the Doves and continued towards the nearest one. I looked back, seeing that Duke was in the front. The Quentia, however, was more apprehensive and ran rather slowly, weighed by the company of the strange metallic contraptions. I turned back around and trudged towards my target. It was no use now; they had spotted it, too. Nearing the ‘Deathtrap,’ as some soldiers call them, I reached out with my arm to grab a handle as soon as possible. When my fingers gripped the leather, I briefly squeezed it. A noticeable beep came from the cockpit. This was a nifty feature; you just squeeze one and the sound plays to the pilots. This way, they know not to leave yet, considering a soldier wants to board. Too bad they could switch it off. Anyhow, I lifted myself up, crossing the threshold into the braced carrier.

Soon Duke and Sik ambled up the ramp into the ship, both breathy heavily to meet their body’s demands. Duke took a seat directly across from me. Do’Sik decided to be more childish with his choice, claiming the bench a few spaces away from me, but within spitting distance. After all; I did show him some extent of kindness. I noticed that no one else boarded.

Curiosity filled an empty mind. A left my position and entered the cockpit to where the pilots where situated. In no particular mood, I questioned the one of the left.
“Where in Hell are you guys from?”
He answered briefly, devoid of expression.
“A few days ago, we got a static transmission from this area. It was just fuzz, but it was retraced to here. No response from request, either. Couldn’t even figure out the damned frequency. Command told us to check it out.”
I nodded. But again a question was given.
“What unit is this?”
This time, however, the right one answered me.
“Foxtrot. Now sit down before I eject you.”
Ignoring him, I seated my ass as directed. Excitedly, I addressed Duke.
“Hey, Dukey boy. They flew down here ‘cause of a blurry transmission they received not too long ago. Have anything to do with that?”
I knew Duke was smiling, but his helmet shrouded this. Made me feel jealous that his was still in one piece, mine shattered from the unexpected crash landing.
“Yeah; tried sending Base Camp a hazy cry for help a couple days back. Guess it broke up as it traveled.”
His last words were accompanied with a shrug. Yet, I was more concerned with how the fuck they got that freaking piece of junk to function.
“That thing actually worked?”
Duke was sullen with his answer.
“No. Not really. But a few hefty strokes of a hammer made it obey.”
Shaking with laughter at his own joke, the corporal settled himself down for a nice, long nap. I did the same, commenting to myself.
“Yep. That’s some advanced technology right there.”
Do’Sik even contributed with another one of his toothy grins.

It’s going to be a long flight.
__________
Copyright @ 2006. Illegal duplication of this Text without credit to the Author or the Author's permission will result in immediate Ban, possibly permanent.
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Post #4 May 26 2007, 07:47 AM Usk'ighte
Yay, you finally reposted this! now where is civecian-ark?
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Currently bored.
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Post #5 May 30 2007, 07:32 PM Flak
Yes...Indeed...

...I'm disappointed that so few people have read it, though.
Or I may be just underestimating the number of 'Views.' But, so be it. I'll continue to post each Chapter, regardless of results.
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Post #6 May 30 2007, 08:03 PM Grunt_of_War
Eh, sorry. I haven't had the time to read it, but I promise to read it sometime tonight, perhaps.
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Post #7 May 30 2007, 10:38 PM Massacre
I pushed my way through 1-4. Good story, just some errors that would be caught on a read through. Keep it up.
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Post #8 May 31 2007, 02:51 AM Grunt_of_War
Ok, I took the time to re-read chapters one through seven, and then read chapter eight. I must say that you did a marvelous job on it, and I highly anticipate the next chapter. No complaints from me except a few careless typos. :grunttop:
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Post #9 May 31 2007, 06:52 PM Flak
Thank you.

To Esteemed Grunt;
Well, I commend you on your effort, but all that in one Night? My, my...
Anyhow, you've some to expect such from me.

To Massacre;
Gald you enjoyed it. As mentioned above, I am a Lord of Typos. The errors are the product of the lack of sleep (When I was writing them.) and refusal to properly look over it. However, I hope to correct them soon.

To Usk;
Did you even read it, or are you just here for the Hell of it?
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