This is an Alternative Universe story focusing on two years before the events of Oldevai. This story is separate from the old Doom story I wrote years ago.
Doom Into the Depth
Chapter 1
4th Mars 2044
Somewhere in the Pacific, Underwater Research facility Deepstar Four
He was very glad he had made the decision to leave Nephthys behind for this mission.
Half-jogging, half-stumbling Jason Stark keyed the door panel to the room frantically. The grey metallic door slowly receded into the wall and allowed him inside. It squeaked as it did so and he looked around with worried eyes, a gash over his left eye and cheek, leaving him half blind which made the situation even shittier. He spun around and gave both ends of the corridor a quick look over with his Spec R25 Assault rifle, his right eye focusing through the small scope.
He moved backwards inside the room, leaving a small blood trail of drops behind him. he had also left blood finger prints on the panel, as he did when he closed the door using the panel inside the room. It squeaked close slowly, way too slowly for his liking. He did a quick sweep with his rifle and the light attached to it and confirmed that the control room he was in was empty. Just three lines of monitors and computers and a large thick window that led out into the ocean that surrounded the facility on all sides.
"Okay Prophet, focus, focus," he told himself, using his official codename. His voice was covered with hints of stress and pain.
He stumbled over with his healthy and wounded leg to one of the computers that he quickly confirmed to be the communications terminal. He took a deep breath and looked at the timer on his wrist. His team was now half an hour past the standard six hours of quarantine and overdue to report in. He pressed the keyboard and it offered up red text on the screen.
"Communications offline," he read. "Son of a bitch. Okay, okay Prophet. That's fine. You didn't wanna make a call anyway."
He turned around and breathed out, relaxing for a moment. He knew it was only a matter of time before another RRTS team was sent in, and hopefully with better luck. No doubt Nephthys was going with them, her old injury be damned. He flinched out of his thoughts when he heard banging on the door.
"Oh bugger," he said tiredly.
He put a few rounds in the panel to prevent it from being opened easily. The Banging was joined by growling and it grew louder. He figured there was more of them outside and with no other exit and preciously little ammunition left, this, well, would be a tricky one. He leveled his Spec DR25 rifle at the closed metal door and readied his last frag grenade.
"Alright so sons of bitches, come and get me," he whispered challengingly. He arched his eyebrows and clenched his jaw.
4th Mars 2044
North America, United States, California
RRTS Headquarters, Twenty-nine Palms
In their barrack Corporal Dean Portman was sitting on his bunk, leaned back and with a pair of playboy magazines on his right side. He was wearing the standard black fatigues and his blond-brown hair was combed back in a typical sleazebag sort of way. He had a small and pained, smirk on his face.
"I know he was a terrorist and all but, that was just uncalled for Temple."
Valyria Temple was a fair skinned woman approaching her thirties. Her hair was raven black and set up in a high ponytail with stray strands trying to escape it. Granted she was the smallest member of RRTS 6 but she was way stronger then she looked, plenty of endurance and good reflexes after nine years in the Marine Corps. She had gorgeous silver colored eyes. If Portman would describe her in one word, it would be gorgeous. Without a doubt. With a defensive smile on her lips she said,
"Oh, what? He had that coming. Shooting him in the groin was the least he deserved."
She got a combined groan in response from the men in the barrack, safe for Eric Fantom, aka Goat, who wasn't paying attention. He was reading that bible that he always had around. After wincing Portman threw an eye at the emotionless Christian. His mouth was moving silently so he was mouthing that nonsense to himself.
"Nobody deserved getting shot in the groin," an African-American in his thirties stated with a chuckle. "Not even Gorski."
His name was Gregory Schofield, but was commonly known as Duke, which was his codename in combat. He had his black beanie on. It was sort of his trademark thing since he always wore it. Well, most of the time anyway.
Portman and the giant of the team nodded in agreement.
Their friendly neighborhood team giant was a dark skinned fellow named Gannon Roark, aka Destroyer. He was a Sergeant, so same rank as Temple. He was bald, strongly built with muscles and with a height pretty close to two meters. He was on par with their CO. Gunnery Sergeant Asher Mahonin. Or Sarge for short.
"Guys," Temple said amused and rolled her eyes and laid down on her bunk. "Next mission I'm gonna shot all the bad guys in the groin just because."
Portman smirked, eyes focusing on her breasts for a moment.
"Total ruthless. You didn't change during leave, huh."
"Nope. Neither did y'all."
In the corner of the room sat Mac, the tech of the unit. An Asian man with a stoic look and black marine-cut hair. He didn't have any input into the conversation but occasionally smirked.
He glanced at Staff Sergeant John Grimm, aka Reaper, as he entered the barracks with steady steps. He walked straight towards his locker and picked out his towel. He scratched his unshaved stubble for a moment before heading towards the showers.
"Not true," Portman claimed, refocusing on Temple. "Lots of things changed. Such as Duke finally losing his virginity."
There was a combined chuckle or laugh from everyone safe Duke himself. Even Goat smirked. He saw a smirk on Reaper's face too. He hadn't caught what led them up to that but that had amusing under any circumstance.
"Your mom didn't complain," Duke took a jab at Portman.
"Fuck you!" Portman snorted.
Temple half-sat up and Duke-who was standing by his bunk that was beside hers fist bumped her.
"You left yourself open for that one," Destroyer told Portman in his deep voice.
Reaper was halfway through the doorway into the changing room leading to the barrack showers when Sarge stepped through the door into their little bunking space. He was a tall and muscular man, his head shaved and a firm and serious look on his face. A typical career soldier at first glance. He stood at 1.96 meters in height, against Destroyer's 1.94 meters, making him the tallest of the team. Fitting as CO perhaps.
"Hold Reaper," he said.
Reaper stopped and looked at their CO, saluting. Everyone else snapped off a salute.
"What's up Sarge?" Destroyer boomed.
"At ease. We got a mission men," Sarge explained, hands held together behind his back.
Portman caught Temple glancing at Duke.
"I thought we were leaving for Congo in five hours, sir," she chimed in.
Sarge directed his gaze on her first but kept it leveled on everyone mutually later.
"The Congo op is cancelled. We're going after RRTS 4."
Portman arched an eyebrow.
"Prophet's unit," he recollected. "They in trouble Sarge?"
"They have missed a scheduled check in and there is still no contact with the facility they went to investigate so we're assuming trouble. This mission is a search and rescue including the crew of Deepstar Four. It could be a communications problem, if it is we move to search and destroy and support their operation." He paused. "Corporal Nephthys Sevchenko is joining on on this one. Full brief en-route. Get your gear."
A round of "Yes sir!" Declared the conversation at an end.
Without missing a beat Reaper marched back to his bunk and left his towel and grabbed his necessary gear from his locker.
On their way out Portman leaned closer to Duke.
"I thought all members of unit 4 was on the mission," he commented.
"Yeah. Maybe she was injured," Duke suggested.
"Or Prophet didn't trust the rookie on this one. Doesn't make me feel better for having her along now."
After gearing up the team made their way to the tarmac with Sarge on point. On the way to their ride Corporal Nephthys Sevchenko hooked up with them. Portman eyed the twentyish marine intensely. She had dark skin, black hair to her shoulders and a pair of lovely violet eyes. as a young marine he figured she would be pretty easy to get her to spread her legs. He licked his lips with a sexual hunger.
When everyone was inside the helicopter and it started taking off Sarge gathered everyone's attention.
"Alright people, listen up," he started. "Ten hours ago RRTS 4 departed on a mission to an underwater research facility named Deepstar Four. The station had been out of communications for twenty-four hours. Already at that point and the last transmission was concerning a quarantine situation in one of the laboratories. That was the last the surface heard from them. It took our team three hours to get out there and adding six hours of standard quarantine, they are one hour overdue. Command doesn't want to take any chances if it turns out our own is in trouble,"
He paused and looked at Nephthys.
"Corporal Nephthys Sevchenko is accompanying us because it's her team and command obliged. Prophet ordered her to sit the mission out because of injuries from the previous mission, last week." He eyes his men, now sterner then before. "Her condition is more than adequate for preforming her duty." The last statement was pointed at certain individuals in his unit.
"Do we know what the quarantine was about?" Mac asked.
"Negative. Since the facility does a lot of biological work it is likely connected to something they picked up off the sea bottom."
"Could be some sort of bacteria," reaper theorized. "Doesn't explain loss of contact though. Even if everybody was dead when Prophet and his unit arrived they should still have been able to use the communications system and leave in their mini-sub if it got too greasy."
Sarge nodded.
Temple glanced at Sev. The Egyptian girl looked worried. Her team was missing after all, her friends and her family. It was easy to think of your teammates as family. She did. Portman off course being the messed up brother who would either go to jail or die at some point.
"We have a two hour ride in front of us. Then a drip by mini submarine to the bottom. That's another hour. Deepstar Four is divided into two main sections. Crew quarters and Research. The main control room is in the Research section and they have a secondary in the Crew section. Deepstar has ten crewmembers on board plus our seven. When we get down there, we find our people."