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The Life of a Marine by Rebel Shuttle
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The Life of a Marine: part 1
Date: 29 May 2004, 7:51 AM
0100 Hours, September 6, 2552 (Military Callendar) /
Near hangars of Theta VII Planetary Tactical HQ
Why did Aaron always seem to end up on the wrong side of the grenade? As he turned the corridor a plasma grenade dropped from another hole in the ceiling. And as usual Aaron had to quickly back around the turn he just went through. Three seconds went by and the walls flashed bright blue from the explosion.
Peeking around while checking for any more hostilities a grunt had dropped down from above. Unfortunately, for it was cut down from the burst of three assault rifles. That was Aaron's cue, he rounded into the vaulted hallway his squad mates had secured and made his way to the large titanium-a door that dominated the end of it. Making sure to keep to the left so Private Stanford, a short man wearing a red bandana and Private Anderson, a tall guy and his UNSC Marine cap could kill their share of grunts.
"Thought we lost you again," said a partially relieved Corporal Simpson.
"You know how those damn grunts are," Aaron, who is also a Corporal, replied.
Then Aaron turned toward the door keypad and typed in the personnel access code. He had been the only one to get a copy of what they were before the Covenant attacked. Now as always, Aaron was safest going last.
The keypad chimed and the slab of titanium that separated Aaron's squad from the hangar slid open. Everyone moved through, Aaron went last. He made a quick check of the threshold for fallen items and moved through himself. When the door slammed shut, it crushed a really retarded grunt that charged at Aaron hoping to fight him hand to hand. Nodding at the satisfying results Aaron moved toward the hangar. Private Anderson was waiting for him near one of the Pelicans, designated Delta 32.
"Hurry up we don't have all day!" he called over the roar of several Pelicans that were taking off.
Aaron picked up his pace and jogged up the loading ramp of Delta 32. He picked a seat on the right between Private Kerry and Private Buchan. It felt relaxing to sit down, after running around shooting at every flood of grunts that streamed through a blast door. Anderson got in last and took a seat next to the Pelican's back entrance. Too bad he couldn't shoot anything because the bay doors took five seconds to close.
Feeling it in the stomach first, Aaron knew this Pelican was taking off. As it did Aaron heard the strain filled groaning of someone throwing up. That someone was Private "Barf Bag" Troy. The guy threw up at least once every time Aaron's squad traveled in a Pelican, and it wasn't always at takeoff.
The sound of chyme and undigested MREs hitting the floor with a wet slapping sound sometimes made Aaron feel a little sick. Over time he had gotten used to it, but he still gagged a little.
"Jesus Christ! Ask the quartermaster for an EVA suit 'next frigate we get on Barf Bag," yelled Private "Bad Boy" Wesley, the squad badass.
"SHUTUP!" Barfbag retorted.
"Alright cut the horse shit!" yelled Corporal Simpson. That was technically an order, but without the Lieutenant everyone tended to disregard military protocol.
Private Buchan and Kerry had been giggling the whole time. Private Rowe, who had been sitting across from them, noticed that as well.
"What you laughin' about little girls?" Rowe asked mockingly.
"You'd best shut the fuck up before I stick my rifle so far down your throat you'll be shittin' gunpowder for year," Private Buchan snapped back "You overgrown piece of..." Buchan was cut off when the Pelican's loudspeaker screeched on.
"Attention, we will be docking on the UNSC frigate ,Cherrybloom, ETA five minutes" the pilot announced "Oh, and if you mind, please cut the horse shit" he added, repeating Corporal Simpson's order.
Apparently knowing they were a short Pelican ride and debriefing away from getting some sleep, that got everyone to calm down. No one talked, all that was heard was the rumbledrone of the Pelican's engines resonating through the hull. Aaron leaned his head back to briefly recollect on what had happened on Theta VII. But he slowly nodded off for some well deserved and needed sleep.
[Author's Note]:
I decided to scrap my The Other Reclaimer series because I think I did horrible on that. Anyways I decided to write this, I feel I have done a better job than before and I hope you like it. Sorry about the shortness, the next part should be longer. One last thing, Private Kerry has nothing to do with John Kerry. Any political message you see in this is coincidental.
Life of a Marine: part 2; Cranky When Tired
Date: 1 June 2004, 11:28 PM
"Hey wake up," someone said.
Aaron opened his eyes, everything was slightly blurred. Bringing his right hand up to his face, Aaron wiped his eyes. Taking a moment to remember what had happened; Aaron realized he had fallen asleep during the flight. Thanking the man who had woken him up, Aaron removed the safety harness and stood up.
Sitting down after standing for a long time, sleeping for five minutes and being abruptly woken up made one stiff as a piece of titanium, literally. Aaron moved with groggy slowness out the Pelican. The sounds typical of a frigates hangar started to register as well. Everything was a constant rumble of Warthogs, Scorpion Tanks, Pelicans, drills, arc welders. Most importantly, the one all mighty sound that was always heard at all times: the distant rumble of the Cherybloom's engines.
Further away there was an area where several techies were using arc welders to fix a Scorpion Tank. Aaron, thankful he did not land any closer, only got a whiff of the smoke rising from flame melting titanium. Everything also seemed to be covered in an orange hue. Of course that was the result of being not getting any sleep for two days and having bright blue etch your retinas for five hours. Something Aaron had come to realize over the past few years.
Diverting his attention away from the Longsword fighters overhead, Aaron searched the deck for the squad. Seventh squad he mentally reminded himself. There they were, standing next a stack of fuel canisters, probably waiting for one of the several troop hogs rolling about. After checking for any vehicles that might pass, Aaron quickly walked towards their location. Private Buchan noticed Aaron approaching and turned to him.
"Sweet dreams?" he asked.
"Same as usual," Aaron replied. Usual was generally about combat. Aaron normally dreamed about the battles he fought in before. But it wasn't like nobody else did. Barf Bag always had a nightmare about fighting at Sigma Octanus when Firebase Bravo was destroyed and watching the grunts and hunters slaughter his buddies.
That brought Aaron to his recollection of how Lieutenant Peterson was killed. Otherwise known as The Lieutenant, he was a well experienced soldier given command of seventh squad. He was a great leader, managing to quell any uprisings that occurred between the soldiers, most notably Private Wesley. Sadly he died during the siege of Theta VII's ground HQ.
The Lieutenant had ordered Aaron and the rest of the squad to fall back to the base while he took command of another platoon. They attempted to flank the advancing Covenant ground force and take out the Wraiths from behind. Unfortunately a Banshee had gotten a fix on them and alerted several tanks. Aaron remembered seeing the Covenant tanks turning thinking they were being shot at. But to his horror, they fired at area in the direction the Lieutenant had gone. Shortly thereafter about twenty soldiers came scrambling through some trees, a large blue blob landed behind them killing nearly all of them and knocking the survivors to the ground. The same Banshee that had spotted the platoon originally swooped down picked them of with a shot from its fuel rod gun.
Aaron's recollection was interrupted by a sharp whistle. Turning towards the source, he discovered the rest of seventh squad already in the back of a troop hog. Corporal Simpson was waving for him to get in. Not wanting to keep them waiting, Aaron hurried for the hog. After climbing in and making sure he had a secure hold on one of the canopy supports, the squad was off.
A short ride later they left the back of the hangar, at the exit there was a sign there was a sign that designated this hangar number 16. So better yet they left hangar 16. The massive airlock led into an equally big tunnel that curved upwards. Which was odd considering how straight and angular human starships were built. The curve leveled and angled downward. After one hundred meters it opened into a large chamber of bridges, elevators and service corridors. Instead of going straight through, the troop hog driver turned right and drove through an open three piece airlock. Slowing down to allow some troop hogs loaded with supply crates to cross from one airlock to another the troop hog stopped at a door that it couldn't drive through. Above it read a sign that said: Personnel Access Lift # 52a.
"Were here, everyone off!" ordered a tired Corporal Simpson.
Aaron and the rest of the squad groggily stood up and jumped out the back of the troop hog. Aaron continued to wonder where they were going. He personally hoped it was a barracks and a bunk bed. Corporal Simpson had walked through the mid sized pressure door and onto the vaguely hexagonal lift inside, with everyone else following suit.
The marine attendant that had been at the lift waited for the squad to board it. When everyone was in, the marine tapped a couple of buttons on the keypad next to the pressure door. Slamming shut, the lift jerked and started to descend. While this was happening Aaron noticed he was still clutching his assault rifle. The ammo counter read 00, and still had the empty clip in it. Aaron thought about reloading it, but remembered he had no more extra clips.
He had used them all up during the Covenant siege on Theta VII. Half had been used up during the initial attack, the rest when the Covenant managed to breach the walls and flood into the base. Firing fifteen round bursts all the time wasn't exactly a good idea if you needed to conserve ammo.
Aaron personally hoped there would be no debriefing, everyone just wanted to collapse into a bunk bed and sleep. Nearly two days without sleep, shooting at anything that wasn't human and running around nearly getting blown up while the unfortunates were vaporized drained anyone regardless. Hell, Aaron wondered why he hadn't gone insane yet.
The lift started to slow down. It then jerked to a stop and the pressure door in the wall and slid open. Now Aaron's squad was in a corridor lined with doors a little more than three meters apart on one side. The other wall was lined with various computer terminals above removed sections of plating, gathering data on the various things the large pipes underneath were carrying.
Corporal Simpson moved forward and everyone followed. He moved to the third door on the right from the lift pressure door. Corporal Simpson typed in a number string on the keypad imbedded in the door and after pressing the green enter button and listening to the authorized chime, the door to a small barracks with twenty bunks slid open.
Everyone surged through the meter wide opening and tossed any gear they had and crashed into closest bunks whether top or bottom. Before going through Aaron asked Corporal Simpson a question.
"Why have we reported here? Shouldn't we be in cryo storage 'cause were jumping into slipspace?"
"I asked that and was told were not leaving the Theta system yet. The brass has something cooked up," Simpson let out an exhausted sigh "Like I give a shit though."
With that Simpson took out the clip of his assault rifle, emptied the magazine and tossed it at an unoccupied bunk. Aaron then entered himself and proceeded to an empty bunk at the back of the room. When he got there he set his assault rifle under the bed and took off his combat armor. For the first time since before the Covenant launched their ground invasion on Theta VII, Aaron could see the condition his armor was in now. The left shoulder plate was almost completely melted off; the chest plate had several holes and burns in it and the armor plate for the right leg was violently torn off, leaving the rest of his right leg armor entirely frayed.
Simply dropping it beside the bed, Aaron swung into the low bunk. And in less than thirty seconds he was asleep.
[Author's Note]
I know this was probably a long piece of boringness to most of you. I'm going to make the next one actually involve combat.
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