Empty :: Chapter 1
Posted By: MoZ<moz@failyerz.com>
Date: 29 June 2004, 11:07 PM
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ONI DEBRIEF
STATEMENT OF: LT. JONAS KIN
DATE: 06/01/2549
When my Pelican went down it happened so quickly I hadn't had time to really be scared. Now the reality of the situation was starting to get to me. I tried, for what seemed like the hundredth time, to peer through the scope of the sniper rifle. The marine it previously belonged to probably wouldn't mine, especially considering that he and the rest of the passengers had died when the plasma bolts had entered through the open rear hatch. Unfortunately the scope's images wouldn't resolve due to the shaking I'd been fighting since the incident.
I took some deep breaths trying desperately to steady myself enough for a glance. My body complied for a moment and I took the opportunity to look towards the area my copilot had gone to recon. The screams had stopped moments before but the whispering in my headset was threatening destroy what fragile sanity I had left. The sight, however, didn't help.
How Charlie was even still alive was beyond me. His side was definitely gone, the blood seeping past cauterized flesh made that evident enough. His limbs were twisted in odd directions, a picture that momentarily reminded me of a marionette dropped hastily. The creature above him seemed to enjoy every moment of the slow death it was dealing its victim. It let out a menacing laugh of sorts when Charlie attempted to shield himself from a blow with his mangled arm. That was enough for me.
I sighted on the ... thing's ... head. It had always looked so easy in all the movies I'd seen, the sniper in perfect cover taking his time as he took enemies out with single shots. Turns out it's a hell of a lot harder than it looks. More than once the thought ran through my head "What if I miss?", "What if I just wing it?" I couldn't be sure so I changed my aim and put Charlie out of his misery with a bullet to the top of his motionless head.
I waited there on my stomach for a day at least. The Covenant warrior had searched only a brief time for me before being met by his comrades and moving on. The bastard actually seemed disappointed when I cut short his fun. Finally I got picked up and here I am, talkin to you, waiting to be executed I guess. Well go ahead, that planet took whatever humanity I had left, you'll just be finishing the job.
END STATEMENT
DATE: 07/04/2551
LOCATION: Classified
Major Erica Santoz read the report for what had to have been the sixth time in as many days. She still couldn't fathom coping with something like that. But Jonas didn't cope with it as it were did he. From the rest of his file she pieced the story of events after that debriefing together.
In a way he became sort of a machine. He had some kind of special training, blacked out in ONI reports, for a period of about 6 months give or take. After that he volunteered for everything. If you had a suicide mission where 100% losses were actually deemed acceptable to achieve the objective, Jonas was your man. You need a heavily populated Covenant outpost scouted and their transport abilities demolished, sure he could do that. In fact no matter what the mission profile, in this quadrant he was always on the list. And more amazing ... he always came back.
Today she would meet him and she was not really looking forward to the prospect. People around the UNSC speculated on what type of man he was. Rumors of "trophies" he took from the field were widespread. His self imposed isolation between missions was well documented fact. One of the psychologists had whispered to her once "It's amazing what you can accomplish with a death wish".
Well death wish or not she had him now. Her mission, one of those with a less than five percent possibility of success, had drawn him to her like the proverbial moth to a flame. She had proposed it as a theoretical situation. One in which a Spartan would have had a decent chance at accomplishing the goal and walking out alive. Spartans weren't readily available though and Jonas was ... always. She hadn't counted on the internal struggle she would face sending a man to what would most likely be his death. Knowing that Jonas would welcome the opportunity didn't ease that conflict.
She walked from her quarters to the elevator still unsure of this idea. Could she call it all off, find some problems in her planning that would put a halt to this? No, she had already tried everything that wouldn't get her demoted. The brass was set on this and so she would have to go look this man in the eyes and send him to die.
The elevator arriving at her destination brought her out of her introspection and she continued on towards the secure room where the briefing would be held. He was sitting there quietly, staring down at the table in front of him as if he hadn't even acknowledged her entrance. She sat down quietly unsure if she should disturb him, a thought she quickly dismissed. She was in charge here. But this man's presence alone was severe and more than a little unnerving. When he finally looked up she flinched despite herself. His eyes were completely black, the windows to an empty soul she thought.
"Are you gonna succeed?" he asked softly.
She stammered, "The mission's probability of success isn't exactly ..."
He stood so abruptly she almost fell backwards herself, "YOU, are YOU gonna succeed? Are YOU finally gonna end all this?" he shouted.
When she couldn't answer he sat back down mumbling "another waste of time".
She took a moment to compose herself as best she could then laid the charts and maps out on the table between them. He never looked up as she went through the briefing, never even grunted in acknowledgement. When she finished she waited for something, anything, to let her know he even heard her. What she got was a muttered "fine" as he walked from the room and disappeared down the corridor. She was about to leave when she caught a glimmer out of the corner of her eye. There were deep scratches in the table where Jonas had sat. The glimmer itself was blood, his blood from his bare finger as they dug into the table. "My god," she thought, "what the hell have I gotten myself into?"
When he reached his room he went immediately to his foot locker and palmed the lock open. The box he retrieved was a matte black metal without a speck of dust on it. Of course that was to be expected since it was never very long between uses. He opened the box and began to clean the disassembled S2 AM Sniper rifle housed within. Highly customized it was essentially the other part of himself. Something to fill the hole that damned planet left in him. He was filling that hole though. Every mission. Every kill. Some amount of blood spilled would make him a man again wouldn't it? The rifle now spotless he assembled it in record time and sighted the mirror. The picture staring back at him was no one he recognized. He pulled the trigger once before breaking the weapon down again and returning it to the case.
'Same story' he thought as he lay in his bunk. Walk into some godforsaken installation, kill everything and leave. The retrieval portion didn't even register with him though it sure as hell was important to that lady. Fine, walk in, kill everything, grab something and hope. Hope for once there would be something out there that could put him out of his misery. Just like he did for Charlie.
to be continued...
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