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No Place For Heroes; Ch 2: High Ho. High Ho. Its off to work we go.
Posted By: DevilsInject<mj-power@hotmail.com>
Date: 27 May 2009, 11:55 pm
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~ Digital Log
UNSC ID; 77856-34256MS
~ Personal Computer #6MS9 @ Outpost 2
Its been two weeks since the Covenant wiped out OP1. Havent had much of anything happen around here. Got a new company clerk, and Clark went home.
My citation got approved and he went home with a Silver Star and a Purple Heart. Promised us that if he was able to move around enough on a fake leg, he'd come back. I don't doubt him.
Well, we went into the city and pulled out in about an hour. Nothin' bad happened, there just was not alot to look at. Couple people persistant enough to stick around. And a few came back with us.
In all honesty I don't know why the people stayed, I mean, its not like they'd live very long. Gotta admire their determination though.
Petes in a pretty bad mood. His telephone company actually sent him a bill. Apparently he's gone and not paid a few heavy bills. It'll do for a good rib. Maybe a bit of heckling. Photocopy, paste every etc etc.
Well... I'm signing off.
"Those fucking bastards!" Yelled Pete, throwing the bill down on the table again. "The nerve!" He slammed his fists on the table and glared at McCreary, "What the fuck are you laughin' at you pikey?"
McCreary suppressed a snort, "Aint nothin' laddie, aint nothin'." He slid back his chair and pulled a cigar out of his pocket. Sticking it between his teeth, snipped the end off with a pair of scissors and put a lit match to it.
Michael looked McCreary over. A mountain of a man, and an Irish man at that. He wasn't large in height, he was broad shouldered and bulky to boot. An artist with a shotgun as well as a MA5B. One of the units best and brightest.
Smith shifted and turned his adult-only magazine sideways. "Y'all have any idea how someone can do that?" Dai stood up and walked over, looked at the page, cocked his head.
"No, I dont. I wish I did. But I dont."
"Well your no help!"
"Sorry, I just don't have the caliber of mind to explain how a woman can bend and contort that much."
Pete snapped out of his rage and walked over, he too looked and cocked his head. "Is her... wh-... it looks like she dislocated something." At that note, McCreary jumped up.
"Lemme see, I have much exper–." He stopped mid-sentence. "Thats wrong." He turned and started to walk away, then turned back. He looked again. "No."
His interest piqued, Michael stood up and walked over. He gazed dumbfounded. "Thats not right y'know. Thats unhealthy."
Smith looked up, "Oh, the good sergeant has a weak stomach?" He pushed on jokingly, "Still have your hands on the coveted 'V-Card'" He closed the mag and leaned forward.
Michael smirked, "Careful Cliche, I'll bust you down to Private." He leaned back and laughed, "You'll end up like Clark. Dont mess with a sergeant."
Dai looked at Michael, "How is your savior anyways?" He stood up and threw a med-pack on the table, "From the sounds of it, he did quite a thing two weeks ago."
"He's doin' good. Got him on a leg. Sayin' he's movin around well. I'm getting updates." He leaned forward, "I promised him a spot in our squad and a promotion to Corporal when he gets back. Commander Yurik has agreed."
Nodding approvingly, Jake clapped his hands together, "So, anyone hungry?" He stood up and walked over to the microwave. Pulling out a package he threw it in. It started to whirr. "I gotta be careful here," Jake started to say, "I heard about this one guy, a twitchy guy. Always had trouble with fire. Met him once, good guy. A bit off if y'know what I mean. But anyways, he just goes and grabs whatever was in the microwave. I dunno how it happened, but it just went all over his hands. Wasn't to fun for him as I hear."
Dai was looking at Jake, mouth half open and his head slightly tilted to one side. "What was the point of that?" he proclaimed. "I dont... your a idiot."
Jake laughed and shook his head. "Just figurin' this out now are ya?" The microwave went off and Jake slipped on a mit and pulled the ration box out. "Yum. Beef, Potatos, Carrots, Corn and Carrot Cake. I never understood that. You can't make carrot cake. A vigable can't be made into a cake.
Smith looked at Jake, "A vigable?"
"Yeah, like brocolli, cauliflower, beans."
"You mean vegetables."
"Yeah, thats what I said. They're full of vidamens."
"Vidamens?"
"Yeah, as in A, B, C. All the way to Zanc."
Mouth open, eye twitching, Smith couldn't believe his ears. Michael patted Smith on the shoulder. "Don't bother." Smith just nodded, apparently speechless. Turning on the spot Michael looked in the door. He gave a rather lazy salute. "Hey Capitan, what ya got for us?"
Captain Nashua flipped his clip board over and looked at Michaels squad assignments. "Just a patrol. Not much. Scout out the local area."
Michael nodded and turned to the squad. "Alright boys, its muggy so go light." He pulled on his helment and slipped on his gloves.
Jake, just putting his fork to his mouth, dropped it in a huff, "Yeah, yeah." He stood up and slipped on his duty cap.
McCreary picked up his shotgun and muttered something under his breathe. High ho, High ho, Its off to work we go.
"Its muggy".
The squad slogged through the swampy, buggy terrain. Again. A large dragonfly flew by and Jake jumped. "Did you guys see the size of that thing?" He shuddered, "Fuckin' huge."
Michael looked back over his shoulder. "Keep it down will ya?" He looked forward again, "You'll give us away." He pushed a clump of branches aside and froze. So did the Elite on the other side.
Pete walked up and started to talk, "What is i-?" He blinked. "Hi."
Opus snapped his rifle up and drilled a three round burst into the Elites chest. It snarled and lunged at Michael. Ducking and pulling his rifle up, he caught the Elite in the stomach with a sustained burst. It folded at the stomach and crumpled to the ground.
Smith cocked his head at a 85 degree angle. "Did you say hi?!"
"Yeah, why?"
"What did you plan on accomplishing?"
"Maybe it was... friendly."
"Are you serious? Are they ever friendly?"
"I like to try."
"Well you just failed? See your buddy? Yeah, he's dead. You hear me? Dead!"
"Yeah... he's either dead or a vigable." Jake nudged him with his foot. A smile on his face. "Guess he didn't take his vidamins. If he had more aron he'd of survived that barrage. But he's Finnish now."
Smith scowled and looked up. "You are a dick."
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