CHAPTER 3

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Just a small thing to keep in mind: these Territories are based off of video games. Bobby has played a Metal Gear game, but doesn't exactly remember most of it. And the events in the games are drastically different from the Territories.

And sorry about the crappy upload schedule I'm on...I nearly forgot about updating at all until the weekend...damn practice ACT test nearly broke my brain...

Aaagh... Anyway, thanks for reading this far into the story and still sticking with it.

There's a big chunk of important info in this chapter for upcoming events, so sit tight. Also some other characters are introduced.

XxXxXxXx

FIRST EARTH

XxXxXxXx

Snake…the soon-to-be Traveler of First Earth. I should have seen that coming. But…who was currently the Traveler…?

He wore an olive coloured shirt and pants covered in pockets, three pistols in holsters strapped to his belt. He held out a gloved hand save for his thumb, index and middle finger and I shook it. His trademark bandana/headband thing was around his forehead.

"P…pleased to meet you…sir," I said.

Snake nodded. "Just call me Snake."

I had played a Metal Gear gameback on Second Earth. It was an awesome and slightly confusing game, but I liked it. I assumed the events of the game had already passed, unless the game mixed up First Earth's timeline into a more follow-able path…Get what I'm saying, Mark?

No?

Well, you'll see a bit later. It wasn't as I thought it would be, either.

"Press and I have a lot to explain to you," Snake continued. "We'll talk in my quarters. Get some food first."

I nodded. Snake turned to the still saluting troops in the background and announced, "At ease!"

They returned to whatever they were doing beforehand, some still shooting glances at me. I began to wonder if they knew I was a Traveler or something. The looks they were giving me were as if I wasn't human. Press and I went to get some food while Snake headed out of the mess hall.

There was pretty decent food in the Mother Base. Pasta, vegetables, fruit…even some wine for the other men and a sweet, fruity blend of some sort. I stuffed myself.

"There usually isn't much variety here," Press said. "But there is plenty to go around."

"So…pasta for every meal?" I asked, chugging some of the fruity drink.

"Mostly. We do have sandwiches occasionally and sometimes soup."

"I can live with that." I said.

"If you're done here, we can head on over to Snake's quarters." Press stood.

"Yeah," I nodded, following him out of the mess hall. "Uncle Press?"

"I know what you're going to ask," he said, glancing over his shoulder and giving me a small smile. "Is this place like the games?"

"Yeah…is it?" We had reached the hallway, where it was a great deal quieter.

"In some aspects, yes. In most, no."

"How so?"

"The creator of the games guessed at a great deal of things," Press said. "He created new characters to fill gaps and move the story along. Unfortunately, he guessed correct at many things. Some things here are not meant to happen…but they are. I don't know where he got the ideas to create what he did in the games, but many of the places and people he had made up are real. For example, the Big Shell, in Sons of Liberty. We have people deployed there as we speak, searching for the hostages. I cannot yet tell if, like in the game, it is a Metal Gear."

"Whoa…" I muttered. "So…was the creator of the games predicting the future?"

"My only conclusion is Saint Dane had inspired him," Press said. "Inspired him to give gamers a slight taste of the other First Earth he was planning on creating."

"So, if the games are inspired by Saint Dane, then it's really First Earth…but twisted to his liking?" I guessed.

"Bingo," Press snapped his fingers. "That's how he hopes to twist them. Without Snake being the hero, of course. He just wants destruction."

"Wow…"

We had come to the bottom of a long flight of stairs. We passed open doors leading into rooms filled with bunk beds, two small trunks at the foot of each one. I figured those were the guys' barracks, due to the pin-up posters of girls everywhere. I chuckled slightly.

Press rolled his eyes and pointed down the hall. "Snake, being the leader here, has his own room."

A single door at the end of the hallway was shut. Press knocked, and Snake mumbled, "Come in."

The door opened into a small room occupied by a desk strewn with papers, a bed shoved into the far corner, and a small porthole window overlooking the vast ocean. Two chairs were stacked on top of each other in a half-shut closet. Snake was sitting at the desk, reading over a paper. He put it down as we entered.

"I suppose I might as well explain everything to you from the beginning," he said. "Take a seat, both of you." He motioned to the chairs stashed away.

I handed one to Press and pushed the other into the room. I sat and waited.

"What I am about to share with you is classified," Snake said firmly. "You are not to repeat anything you've heard to the men, otherwise I will be forced to kill you, Traveler or not."

Whoa. He meant business.

"We are a group of people with one specific goal in mind," Snake dug something out of the desk's drawer and tossed it to me. "We find and destroy Metal Gear. We are FOXHOUND."

"FOXHOUND? I thought you…" I trailed off. Now I was extremely confused.

I thought Snake worked for FOXHOUND. I never suspected he would run it…

"There is a terrorist organization working to mass produce Metal Gear at a terrifying rate. Governments around the world are buying into them, as they want protection from each other. The Metal Gear come in many shapes and sizes. There are Metal Gear REX, Shagohads…even some disguised as normal tanks."

I held up the thing he had thrown at me. It was a shirt, covered in pockets and the same olive green as the one Snake had. On the shoulder was the FOXHOUND badge, sewn into the fabric. It looked to be my size.

"This would be bad enough if they hadn't kidnapped two of our most brilliant minds," Snake said. "Nikolai Stepanovich Sokolov and Huey Emmerich."

"Emmerich? That sounds familiar…" I muttered.

"He is the father of my comrade, Hal Emmerich. Otherwise known as Otacon. Perhaps Press had already told you."

"Yeah," I said quickly. "He did."

"They are being held to complete their Metal Gear. One of our current missions is to track them down and rescue them."

"Sounds important." I said.

"It is very." Snake said, completely expressionless. "Beside them, we have had a mole in our ranks. My mentor and friend had defected to the terrorists. She left with a small group with members of the terrorist organization known as The Pain, The End and Vulgin. She was also the Traveler of First Earth."

He handed me a photograph. There were three people standing in a helicopter, looking down at a bridge at a woman carrying a case of some sort. One of them had hideous scars lining his face, one was hunched over and extremely old, judging by the beard growing from his chin, and the last looked as though he was smoking. Literally. Smoke was circling him.

"The scarred one is Vulgin," Snake said. "The woman is The Boss, my mentor. The old man is The End, and the one swarmed with wasps is The Pain."

Wasps were a lot scarier than smoke. That guy really freaked me out.

"But they aren't the only ones with Intel from the inside." Press said.

"Yes. We too, have inside help. She goes by the codename EVA." Snake retrieved the photograph. "She is our best double-agent and has saved many lives."

"She's destroyed five Metal Gear single-handedly." Press added.

"Wow!" I said.

"The terrorist organization has many recruited," Snake continued, changing the subject. He handed me another photograph. "This is a Metal Gear REX. In front of it are some of its creators. From left to right, Vamp, Fortune, Revolver-Ocelot, and Liquid."

The REX looked like something out of Star Wars. It was painted camouflage, and it stood on two legs, facing the camera. The people in front of it were…interesting.

Vamp was a smooth looking guy. He wore a trench coat that was open in the front and black pants. His black hair was slicked back and rather pointed teeth shone from his mouth. A dark-skinned girl hung around his neck, beaming at the camera. That must have been Fortune. Her hair was dyed blonde, and her lips were covered in light lipstick. I thought it was a bit odd, but whatever. She wore what I thought was a one-piece swimsuit, but it was zippered down the front. Again, odd. A giant gun thing was strapped to her back. The man named Revolver-Ocelot was fairly young, with short-cut hair and a rather serious look on his face. His uniform was decorated with medals. A red scarf was wrapped around his neck. He looked extremely professional. The last man looked almost identical to Snake. The only differences were his hair was blonde and he was wearing different clothes. He wore a trench coat like Vamp, except his was lighter in colour. He also wore dark pants and boots. He and Ocelot were not smiling.

"They look…interesting." I handed the photo back.

"Ocelot is one of the leaders." Snake said. "He organized the kidnapping of Huey and Sokolov, as we have found out fairly recently."

"So watch out for these guys?" I asked.

Snake nodded.

"Got it." I said.

"I have evidence that Saint Dane has influenced the terrorists." Snake continued. "One of the newer Metal Gear was released to America with the name, 'SAINT'. It was a bipedal machine with elaborate designs painted into its camouflage, almost like the Flume's changing images. Of course, I was the one to find it and destroy it first. He had it planned out."

"Oh no…" I muttered.

"We do know he does not suspect our double-agent." Snake said. "He knows someone has been relaying information, but he does not know who. EVA is safe for the time being."

"Good." I said.

"In the morning, Press, we have an Alpha II team scheduled to head out to the Big Shell. We need those hostages found. We have recently learned the President of the United States is among them." Snake turned to my uncle. "You are listed for duty?"

"Yeah." Press said.

"Do I get to come too?" I asked.

Snake laughed. My hopes fell.

"No. Like any soldier, you must earn your way up in the ranks. You are assigned to mess hall cleanup after every meal. You also should check into the Intelligence Labs. They need more people as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir," I muttered.

"Good." Snake ruffled my hair like Press sometimes did. "Don't worry, kid. You'll see some action soon enough."

XxXxXxXx

I was the Traveler! I should be doing some Traveler stuff! Not washing dishes!

Anyway, this place was completely different from what I expected. I never would have suspected Saint Dane had already weaseled his way into the terrorists' group like that, but then again…I still have a lot to learn.

I had already learned that washing dishes was not fun. I had been constantly scrubbing leftover food off of them for at least an hour and a half. Uncle Press was nowhere around, and it sort of ticked me off slightly.

"Hey…uh…where's my uncle?" I asked one of the soldiers working alongside me.

"Your uncle…? You mean Lone Wolf?" he said.

"Yeah…does everyone get a new name here?" I dried another plate off.

"Well, you don't need a name…just something so everyone can distinguish you from the others," the man said. "To answer your question, he's in mission prep. He's leaving in the morning for the Big Shell."

"Oh," I muttered. That's right.

"If you haven't received a code name, I would suggest taking it up with the boss. He assigns you a borderline shitty name, but as you work your way through the ranks, you receive a new one. It takes some getting used to, but you'll get used to it." He put a pile of silverware away. "Take mine, for example. I'm Lobster."

I thought he was fairly accurately named. His hair was as red as it could get and cut short, just enough to keep it out of his face. He had the brightest, green eyes I had ever seen and the most welcoming smile. He looked to be around the age of twenty five or so and fairly ripped, and I found out later he had been training with the combat unit (He was especially good with rocket launchers). He was wearing a uniform similar to mine.

"Hi," I said. "Have you been here for a while?"

"About half a year," He said. "I was rescued from the Germans along with a few others. It was a nasty battle, but we pulled through. Where are you and Lone Wolf from?"

"Uh…" I hesitated. "Well…it's kind of a long story. I would rather not tell it."

"Hey, I understand." Lobster shrugged. "Most of the guys here don't like to share stories either."

And that's how I made my first friend on another Territory. If you get the chance, Mark, you should try it some time.

XxXxXxXx

It got to be around eleven that night and Press was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Snake retrieved me from my working space (That was pretty clean by this point in time) and directed me to the barracks.

"How's Lone Wolf?" I asked, grinning.

"He's perfecting his battle techniques." Snake said. "He is one of our top soldiers. And that reminds me…you need a new name. That is, if you want one."

"Pick one for me." I said. "I'm not good at coming up with new titles."

Snake thought for a few seconds as we continued walking. "I have one."

"Yeah?"

"I think it is accurate," he continued, a smile curling his lips. "Mouse."

I inwardly groaned. "Isn't that a girl's name?"

"No," Snake grinned. "But it is a name that points out childish attitude and impatience. Both things, you have. But I'm sure that will change with a bit of training and responsibility."

We rounded a corner and nearly ran into a short girl. She stumbled back and glanced from me to Snake. "I'm sorry…perdón…" she said in a light, quiet voice.

She was about my height, with slightly curly blonde hair that reached her shoulders. She had beautiful blue eyes and a uniform that didn't match the others. It looked like some sort of extremely formal schoolwear.

"Paz, this is Mouse." Snake said.

I thought I blushed. I found myself staring at the ground. "H…hi, Paz…"

She giggled. "Hello, Mouse. Are you new here?"

"Yeah…joined today, actually," I rubbed the back of my head and stared at the wall. "How long have you been here?"

"This conversation can continue in the morning, so you can find the right words." Snake pushed my shoulder, nearly sending me tumbling over. I shot him a glare, but his eyes were fixed ahead. "Paz, I think Chico was looking for you a bit earlier."

"Oh, right, Serpiente…" Paz cast me another look. I managed to make eye contact with her without glancing away. "See you tomorrow, Mouse."

She hurried off.

"She should be about your age." Snake said, directing me down the rest of the hall toward the barracks. "I hope you two can actually look at each other without stuttering and causing a scene. She needs a friend."

"Hey, I didn't expect someone like…her around here!" I blabbered. "I thought everyone here was older!"

"Oh, no. Chico is the youngest here, at twelve."

"Really?"

"Yes." Snake motioned to a group of bunk beds in the corner. "Any one of those can be yours. Lights out is at twelve every night. Unless you're on the combat unit, there is no set wake-up call."

"Sweet." I claimed a top and threw my uniform jacket over it.

"The chest contains fresh clothes and other necessary items. You should be comfortable."

"I like it here already." I said.

"Good. Well, Mouse, welcome to Mother Base. You'll be staying here for a while." Snake grinned.

"I don't like my new name, though…" I sighed.

XxXxXxXx

Despite the snoring and overall noise, I slept pretty well. I woke up just as the sun shone through the window and quickly changed into the uniform I was provided in a bathroom. I dug through the trunk at the foot of my bed and was surprised to find paper and pencil. I grabbed it and began wondering the halls, wondering why the heck more people weren't around.

I found my way to the mess hall without too much trouble. Only a few people were sitting around tables; talking, eating or playing cards. I sat by myself in a corner and wrote this journal.

I was really pouring on the detail (Could you tell, Mark? I worked hard on this thing) when someone approached me and asked in a soft voice, "Um…can I sit here?"

I nodded and stashed the papers under the chair. "Yeah…! Of course, Paz!"

Paz smiled and sat across from me. "What are you doing?"

"Just writing. I like making up stories." I said. I didn't know how to explain the Traveler business and frankly, I didn't know if she knew about this sort of stuff.

"You're an author?"

"Yeah…I suppose so." I shrugged.

I could barely maintain eye contact with her. I thought I was blushing. She seemed much more interesting than when we had met in the hallway…perhaps that had been because I was tired and Snake was watching us. She had on a smart, dark-blue jacket on, top button undone, and a red tie and white dress shirt. Her blonde hair was wavier than yesterday. Maybe that was because of the humidity, living in the middle of the ocean and all…

"What kind of story?" She asked.

"Um…it's about a boy who goes on a crazy adventure," I said. "He doesn't know what he's doing, but he's guided by his family and friends."

"That sounds exciting," she grinned. The smile went perfect with her ocean coloured eyes…

"I suppose it is…" I couldn't help but smile back. I finally managed eye-contact. "I'm just at the part where the boy meets a new, beautiful companion."

(Oh, good Lord, Bobby. Why did you have to say that…)

It was Paz's turn to blush. She lifted a hand to her mouth and giggled. "May…May I ask this companion's name?"

Truth is, I hadn't thought this far. I opened my mouth and began stuttering slightly, trying to find a name that was similar to hers. I never got the chance.

The doors to the mess hall were thrown open as one of the soldiers rushed in. His uniform was torn and he had a wild look in his eye. "Every able-bodied person, report to the sick bay!" Just like that, he was gone again.

Paz and I exchanged looks. "I…I suppose we should go." She said almost silently.

"Yeah," I left the journal under the chair and followed her out of the mess hall and down to the sick bay. Along the way, I could have sworn the walls had been painted a darker grey than before. Perhaps that was just my imagination…

We were met with a huge group of soldiers standing outside the sick bay. Some were rushing around, medical supplies in hand, but most were slumped against the walls, injured and bleeding. I didn't know what to do. I had never seen so many people hurt like this.

"Mouse!" Paz grabbed my arm and pulled me to a man who was slouched into the far corner. His hand was clenched tightly over a wound in his left arm, blood spilling around his fingers. His uniform's sleeve was completely torn off from his injured limb and wrapped around the damage done to his flesh. His teeth were gritted in immense pain.

Paz stooped by him and quickly said, "We're going to help you."

The man sucked in a deep breath. "It's just a surface wound…nothing to worry about."

"We're going to help you." Paz firmly repeated. She stood and motioned to me. "Get bandages and disinfectant…now!"

I nodded and waded my way through the suffocating crowd of people to the sick bay doors and threw them open. Many more people were occupying it; others rushing around offering medicines to ease the pain and bandaging wounds. These people were all severely injured…I saw more than one man missing a limb, a bloody stump was all that remained. All the beds had been taken, and more people were slumped against the walls. The clean white of the room was gone, replaced by the rusty red that seemed to stain everything.

"Para-Medic!" I finally spotted who I was looking for.

She was handing a stack of supplies to a soldier with a bloodied bandage around his head. She glanced at me and quickly asked over the moans of the injured, "What do you need?"

"Bandages…disinfectant…anything you can spare!" I had no idea what I was doing.

She handed me a few gauze rolls and pads, disinfectant in a heavy glass bottle, a needle and thread stuck into a small pincushion, and a bullet.

"What's this for?" I held up the piece of metal.

"What are you talking about? Get out there and help those poor souls! It's all I can spare!" She returned to her frantic work, running over to the bedside of a man who had lost half of his face.

My stomach turned, but I forced myself to leave the sick bay. I made my way back to Paz, who had removed the soldier's makeshift bandage. She was covering his wound with her hand, her sleeve stained red. As soon as she saw me, she reached for the needle and thread. "The wound was more serious than I thought…"

"It was a knife," the soldier grit his teeth. "That bastard who slashed me…he escaped."

"Don't move," Paz commanded, digging the needle into his flesh.

I looked away and worked on unraveling some of the gauze. The soldier muttered curses. Paz finished stitching his injury and reached for the disinfectant, smearing red across the bottle. She motioned for me to dress the wound as she spread the disinfectant across the stitched lines in the soldier's skin.

I secured the bandages in place. Paz stood and handed me the bloodied supplies. "We've done all we can for now. Para-Medic will look after him later."

"Good…" I squeaked. As I glanced around the hall, I saw most of the men were getting medical attention, others standing and walking opposite of the sick bay, as directed by another soldier.

"They must have prepared another sick bay…" Paz sighed. "Well…I don't think we lost anyone…That's fortunate."

"Out here, anyway..." I glanced back at the sick bay doors. I thought I heard a scream. "Um…Paz? What's the bullet for?"

"Bite the bullet," she said.

"Excuse me?" I blinked.

"They—the injured— bite the bullet. So they don't distract us with screams. It's primitive, I know…but it's sometimes all we have."

"Oh," I drew in a deep breath.

XxXxXxXx

It was some time later. Paz and I were back in the mess hall, still too stunned to do anything or even strike up a conversation. No one but us occupied the room. My journal still lay under my chair. Paz's sleeves were still red.

"Wh…where did those soldiers come from?" I finally managed to ask.

"The Big Shell. They were inspecting it for Metal Gear…I think we got our answer." Paz whispered.

"The Big Shell?! My uncle was on that mission!" I nearly shouted.

The door was pushed open with a squeak. Paz and I turned to see Snake standing at the door, arms behind his back, looking for all the world like a typical general. He inhaled slowly and said, "Mouse, Lone Wolf was indeed with us at the Big Shell."

"And…?! Where is he?" I stood.

"He is listed as MIA," Snake continued. "Missing in Action. For all we know, he is still very much alive and well. Just a hostage."

"A hostage?! What happened? We have to go back!" I stumbled, almost in a daze, toward him. "We have to go back!"

"He wasn't the only one among the MIA." Snake said calmly, glaring daggers. "There were three others. Four of our best men. They had definitely planned this. We are sending a rescue team tomorrow."

"Put me on it!" I pleaded. "I want to go!"

He shot me a look until I fell silent. "You are on the reserves. If all doesn't go according to plan, Bravo Team will back up Alpha. Besides, I think you should meet the Acolyte."

"Acolyte?" Paz asked.

Snake shook his head. "He's…one of the MIA. You'll know him when you see him, Paz."

"When do we go?" I asked.

"Tomorrow, early afternoon. Keep in mind, your Bravo team will only be called upon if we fall into danger." Snake turned and walked out of the mess hall.

There was so much more I wanted to ask him…so many unanswered questions, I wanted to scream. I took a deep breath and began to relax slightly.

"I've never known anyone here with a code name like 'the Acolyte'." Paz said.

"He probably has two names he goes by." I sighed and headed back to the table. I retrieved the journal and began writing.

"In your story…You never told me the companion's name." Paz said with a small smile.

Despite everything that had happened in the last hour, I laughed. Little did I know there was more horror to come.

Lots more.

XxXxXxXx

Oh noes, Press!

And Bobby's got a (girl)friend! This is a great start to this Traveling business, isn't it?

Ha ha, yeah right. It won't stay perfect forever.

And just who is this Acolyte? I can guarantee most of you will not really approve.

Anyway, until next time…

Read and review!

Hasta la Vista, Readers!

Lordoftheghostking28