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Last of a Dying Breed-One Night
Posted By: hornet34<hornet34x@hotmail.com>
Date: 23 November 2003, 7:09 PM
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A blaring siren jolted Warren out of sleep. He slapped at the clock and threw it across the room. The siren didn't stop. Warren gave the battered alarm clock a betrayed look, until he realized the truth. "Shit, that's the base alarm." He ran out of his cramped room into a dark hallway. Fumbling against the wall, he snapped the light switch on. His eyes winced from the painful illumination as he cautiously made his way to the base's medical brig.
"Doc, what's going on."
"Looks like it's just a probe. Still, you better see if they need anyone up there."
Warren grabbed his med kit, strapped his sidearm on, and ran up the hallway leading to the outer base walls. Medical personnel traditionally refrained from engaging in combat, but Warren was somewhat of a pecularity. In the days of war with the Covenant, where a soldier either came out in one piece or didn't come out at all, he was a combat medic. The last of a dying breed, he went to the frontlines in the midst of some of the fiercest battles and tried to ease the pain of his fellow marines.
Warren hurried through several corridors before coming out into a large open lot. He jogged over to the main wall and climbed the ramp. Making sure to stay low enough not to be spotted by any enemy troops that might be out there, he made his along the wall until he came across a machine gun nest.
"Psst. What are we looking at here guys." Warren said in a harsh whisper.
"Slash, that you." Slash was Warren's nickname, given in reference to his sometimes hasty bandaging jobs.
"No, its your mom. Who else do you think would be out here at this time of night."
"Well I did order a pizza."
"Shut up. Seriously though, what's going on. The base alarmed sounded."
"Ah, the scanners picked up some movement on the south wall. Probably just some wildlife."
The chatter of a lone assault rifle filled the air, followed by a blue flash.
"Shit."
"Good call on the wildlife. I better go see if anyone was hurt."
Warren ran as fast as could while still crouching and got to the area where the flash had been. The gunfire had stopped, but two marines were still tensely eyeing the thick underbrush on the other side of the wall. In the moonlight he could make out the figure of a man lying in a somewhat unnatural position, letting out low moans.
"Slash, that you." Warren recognized the voice of Captain Chan.
"Yeah."
"Check on Jim there."
Warren crouched down next to the soldier. "What happened."
"Spotted a big ole sonofabitch sneakin' up. Blasted most of his leg off before dat blue bastard could git out a grenade. Dat bastard come back and he'll git more dan jus' a torn' up knee, I garuntee.." The private's thick Creole accent was cut short in a yelp of pain as Warren examined the injury.
"Sorry. You got some shrapnel in your leg there. I'll patch you up and send you on down to see the Doc."
"My face, suh, it does feel like it burning."
Warren chanced a quick light to see the private's face. It was bright red.
"Looks like you got a little too close to that plasma. Ya know, there's better ways of getting a tan. Might be a while before you can grow eyebrows again."
"Dat's fine. I neva knew what dem fo anyway."
"I think it has something to do with improving a person's looks. Shouldn't be a big loss in your case." The private let out a small chuckle. Over the years Warren, had found it was just as important for him to talk to injured soldiers and take their minds off their injuries as it was to bandage them up.
Warren helped the two soldiers that came out to load the private on a stretcher, taking care not to move his leg too much. Assured the injured marine was in good hands, he crept over to where the Captain and another marine were, conversing in hushed tones.
"...probably won't be able to get a team out there until tomorrow morning. Ah, Slash, how did he look."
"The leg was pretty messed up, but the Doc will fix him up right as rain. I don't think there will be any permanent damage, but he'll probably be out a couple weeks, depending on how much muscle tissue was destroyed."
"That's a shame. Here, I want you to take a look at this," the Captain said while handing him a pair of infra-red goggles. "Thats the way we think he went," he said, pointing. "The blood and the fact that he was probably crawling gives it away."
Warren took the goggles and did indeed see a faint red path path leading back through the brush, highlighted occasionally by darker red spots that resembled puddles of blood. "Whats that big red log down there?"
"That ain't a log," he said with a laugh. "That's the poor bastard's leg. Like I was telling the private here, we probably won't be able to send out a scout team until the morn..."
Gunfire cut off the Captain. Chan and the other marines snapped around instantly and had their guns trained on the woods. Warren duck down to the point where he could just barely see over the wall, not wanting to expose more of himself then necessary. Warren heard the click of Captain Chan's radio. "Lieutanent, what's going on down there." The reply was almost inaudible to Warren; the Captain undoubtably had his volume turned way down.
"Well do you guys need any support over there?" Warren continued to listen to the one-sided conversation. "I got Slash here, I could send him in case something happens," followed by a muffled reply. "Just keep me informed then." He thumbed the radio back off. "The Lieutanent said one of the guys got thought he saw something and fired into the woods. Can't confirm anything. We're just gonna sit tight and keep an eye on our own section for now.
And that's the way the rest of the night went. Unconfirmed sightings, low nervous talk, and one probe on the other side of the base that was turned back after a short firefight. The sun was threatening to come up when Warren finally got leave to return to bed. He hadn't done much, but just being on the frontlines was exhausting. He fell asleep before his head hit the pillow.
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