08
After a few rough hours of travel, the sun begins to rise, its beams of light slowly pouring through the trees along the horizon. We decide to rest along the stream to recuperate. Being that our food supplies are little to none, following our only source of water is the only reasonable course of action in our eyes. I stand in the middle of the stream and refill my canteen while kneeling into the water. The still freezing water soaks my pants, giving my aching legs some mild relief, but only giving me brief distraction from the real pain troubling my body. The Medigel applied to me was only a temporary solution, so my ribs were still broken, making every breath a wheezing and unavoidable burden. In reality there is no proper way to address my fractures, so strong arming the injury is my only option at the moment. I release the straps on my ballistic chest piece to give my lungs some more air. As soon as the plate comes off I am greeted with a sudden and pleasing breeze. I exhume a large gasp of air and take in an even deeper breath, feeling my lungs expand freely. All of it still hurt like hell, but it was nothing compared to the initial stages of the pain. Since the explosion.
I look over and see Myra walk to the stream and fall into it on her knees. She shoves her face into the water, then begins taking large gulps. After a few seconds, she raises her head out of the water, breathing heavily.
"You okay, Myra?" I walk over and hand her a towel I have stored in my right pocket. She waves it away politely.
"I… I don't know. How the fuck am I supposed to feel, Corporal?" She looks into my eyes, her own stained red from crying. I've seen people shaken up, decimated emotionally. Combat does that to people, several times I've seen someone throw up after seeing their first body. Some people can't even stand up a week after combat, give or take the injuries. But what we went through wasn't combat. What we experienced was a God-damned massacre. Not something I'd like to see on my first assignment, but unlike Myra, I was fortunate enough to be eased into the blood and guts. She was dropped head first into hell, and the demons got their hands on her not too long after.
"Terrified. Frightened. By now, you should've shit your pants. Respect to you for holding up this far." I proceed to sit down on the bank next to her. She crawls backwards and lay next to me, covering her eyes with her helmet. She was still shaking.
"What was your first assignment like? Nothing like this, I would hope." Her voice recedes as she speaks, resting down to a soft tone. She was trying to calm herself down.
"Heh… not even close. Matter of fact, I didn't hold a rifle on my first assignment," Shit. My rifle was still at the outpost, "Military Police, New Mombasa. I was playing guard duty for some UNSC Correctional Facility. Most boring post I've ever had." It's been a while since I last talked about this. The last person who heard this story was… Hitch.
"You're from Earth?" She gets up and turns to me, left knee up and arm resting atop it.
"Yeah… it's been eight years now. The only time I ever see her is on holovids or on those 'Remember Her' posters stuck up everywhere back at HQ." It's really been that long? I never actually tracked the time that went by since I was shipped out here.
"Is that where you first… saw combat?" She asks.
"On Earth? Oh no. My first time seeing the bullets fly was on Tribute, cleaning up remnants of the Insurrection."
"You were on Tribute? So that means… you were cleaning up TREBUCHET." Myra's face lights up a little.
"Something like that, yeah. I don't actually know the details, but all I know is that there were several untouched cells left there and we were meant to put them down," It felt more like killing civilians to be brutally honest. But there's no way could I bring myself to say it like that, "They put up a fight, but it only lasted a day or two." Another lie. We put them down like sick dogs. All I knew about TREBUCHET was that it was a very heavy handed operation meant to deal with the insurrection in the Outer Rim. Shortly after the start of the Covenant war, TREBUCHET ended abruptly in order to reassign military forces to the front lines. Whatever cells remained active, my unit was tasked to silence and mediate. I say mediate, but it was definitely along the lines of slaughtering anyone whom had previous association with 1st Class level Insurrection based assets. In short, many died without trial and jury. But it was beyond my pay-grade to ask questions. That doesn't mean what I did was right, though. Far from it.
"Were you… did you end up like me?"
"Like what?"
"Shattered, broken or shitty. Feeling useless, like every moment could kill you. Maybe even all of the above." Her eyes fell to the water streaming past us.
"I… no. I did not. It was a well-organized op, our objective and motions were dead locked. The blood spilled those days were more theirs than ours. My time there taught me to deal with it slowly." At least I released some of the truth.
"That's completely different from me then…" She cradles her head into her arms.
"But look at you, despite the hell we've been through, it's a blessing you haven't dropped the ball and left the game yet." She laughs in response.
"But God only knows I want to, Corporal. I don't want to do this sir. I knew the Covenant war was going on, but I never intended to go through something like this…"
"No one does. No one can plan on something like this, marine. That's why they give us rifles – quick tools of improvised diplomacy." I stand up, taking another deep breath.
"How are you still acting so calmly? You've never even met the Covenant." Myra spoke a bit louder now, gleaming at me. I bring my hand forward, offering to help her up. The fact of the matter is, I'm not calm. What she sees is purely superficial, it's what's inside that I refuse to let out. Fear. Despair. Self-spite. The training they give us in boot-camp can only prepare you for the physical hardships. It's experience that teaches you the real face of war. It teaches you that friends are only friends in the barracks, but liabilities or assets on the field. That bravery and stupidity go hand in hand. That the trigger at your finger puts another being's life into your hands. That no matter what, your life is always on the line. Other soldiers get better at shooting their weapons after a couple years in service. I got better at hiding my cowardice.
"Covenant. No Covenant. It doesn't matter. All we can do is point our weapons forward to ensure we live for tomorrow. Do it for family, do it for money, it's up to you. I keep going because I don't want to die." I was never the best at giving advice, but this should suffice in satisfying her inquiry. She grabs my hand and helps herself up.
"Is that how you always look at things?" I stare into the water for a few seconds before answering.
"It's the only way I can. The UNSC bred us to fight, so giving up is the last thing on our to-do list. Keep your head up kid." She smiles at me, accepting my words of encouragement.
"You're not even that much older than me, Corporal."
"But I've got experience riding on my back, so you're still a kid to me." She turns away from me, a sullen look on her face took over.
"What if we don't..?" She began.
"We will. I can promise that much. You've got nothing to worry about Myra, you got Vic and Daniels watching your back. And me, too." I punch her shoulder, offering more affirmation. Although I didn't even believe myself, she needed to hang onto something. Even if it's a lie, it will be enough.
Victor called out to us, telling us that we're moving out again. I started for him, but Myra grabbed my shoulder.
"Corporal… thanks, sir."
"For what?" She smiles and starts walking towards Victor. Puzzled, I follow her onward.
We all walk in a line formation, Victor taking up the front, me following him and the rest trailing behind, Daniels being the very last. As far as weaponry went, we all only had our pistols, Daniels' sniper rifle and two frag grenades – both on my utility belt. As far as we are concerned, this is not even close to being sufficient enough to deal with the possibility of more Elites. The only reason Daniels' was able to take clean shots was because they were unaware of his presence. My intuition tells me that an opportunity like that would not present itself again.
The path we followed led us to a cliff side that ran parallel along the beach head. The cliff itself stood at least 100 feet tall, looming over the dark sand like a great jagged wall. The base of the cliff itself remained inward while the rest grew out, forming an outward slant. With these details in mind, we can at least feel a bit safe from any possible attack along the beach. Our plan is to follow the coast up to the supply post that Miller had mentioned back in the forest. According to her, the post lay atop a rocky isle that was separated from the mainland by a shallow body of water. Our chances of meeting no resistance is close to zero, but regardless, getting there was a top priority. The relay station held within the facility was our main concern. As long as we could transmit our message, the objective was complete. It sounds easy on paper, but my doubts precede my hopes. Getting there was one thing, but getting there alive was definitely another.
"How're we on food?" I pant as we walk up a small hill. My lungs were killing me. Or my ribs. Either way, it was agonizing.
"I've still got one or two rations left in my waist pack, we can split that between us." Daniels reports. The rest have nothing.
"Tch… that's not good. We'll have to make due. There's nothing very edible out here." I said.
"What about the ocean?" Miller adds.
"Two problems with that sweet heart. One, there's no safe way down there. Two, we don't have anything to catch food with." Vic refutes sharply, his voice still holding animosity towards Miller. I lean to the left to see Daniels' lift his sniper rifle, proposing it as a sufficient fishing device, but I shake my head towards him in response.
"Then we'll just have to keep walking and hope food comes raining down from the sky." I announce to everyone. They all groan in response but kept moving forward anyway. Conditions for us were far from ideal, but for the time being no Covenant was on us.
Our travels eventually led into a small canyon, ten or fifteen feet in width while being hundreds of feet long. Going around was no option as it was a simple dead drop on either side. And none of us have the strength to climb down. We enter the canyon at a steady and cautious pace. As far as I can tell, the canyon itself was void of any motile life, save a few insects. Deeper in, we find ourselves at least eighty or ninety feet below the canyon top. The sunlight shines brightly along the left side, but the right casts a shadow over us. Closer examination of the rocks reveal small burrows for rodent and arthropod like creatures, their size much larger than I would prefer. For the most part, they stay non-hostile, only stopping their routine to stick their shiny, multi-faceted eyes on us for a few seconds only to return back to its former duties. These are the details I decipher as I keep my eyes glued to the edges of the canyon. No Covenant to be seen.
We walk through the rocky hall in a close but awkward formation; I took the rear this time, Vic and Myra took the center, Miller ahead of them and Daniels taking the lead. Only one or two feet stood between each of us. The part that makes me the most uncomfortable, however, is the silence. This was no silence of respect to the nature around us, no, that was null and void. Aside from the creatures crawling over our heads, there was nothing serene about our surroundings at all. No, this was a silence of alertness. Each of us knows that at any moment, those nasty bastards could come and shower some nice, hot plasma at us at any time. That any of us could fall onto the ground as a limp and very dead body. I walk with my hands at my sides, swinging in normal fashion, but every pass at the holster was rigid and coarse. I want to be ready for the next onslaught, not surprised or startled. I refuse to let another one of my marines die. This, I feel, is the same as everyone else. This was a silence of vigilance. Caution. Fear.
After a few more minutes of quiet marching, I bring my eyes forward to see what lay ahead. The end of the canyon resides farther than my eyes can see, so we still have a ways to go. Bringing my vision in towards the group, I see that Daniels has taken a position farther ahead than the rest of us. He turns his head to the side, catching a glimpse of all of us. As we make eye contact, he waves his hand over, signaling me to take a position at his side. I respond by jogging over.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"Nothing, it's just, I think we should be up ahead. In case anything happens." He replies, softer than usual.
"Like what?"
"Anything." A quick and stern response. I comply and walk side by side with him. Looking back, I see Victor had struck some conversation with the two women, somehow maintaining a friendlier than normal nature with Miller. Myra smacked the back of his head for having said something crude. I chuckle to myself.
Minutes pass as we walk, eyes glance up and down, and hands stay ready. But there is yet to be any action. These quiet moments continue to make me more and more edgy. Being enclosed in this canyon makes me feel more vulnerable than I have ever been before. Hell, I even felt safer out alongside the cliff. At least there I could see what was coming. Here, we were fish in a barrel. Meat walking the line to the slaughterhouse.
"I never wanted this, you know." I turn to him, startled at the sudden break in silence. He keeps his eyes forward as he speaks, continuously watching for the enemy to be.
"Wanted what? To be attacked by Covenant?"
"No… To be a marine." The grip on his sniper tightens as he speaks. He straightens his posture.
"What do you mean?"
"I only joined because I was angry, because of the attacks. I wanted some form of respite, or redemption you could say." His eyes briefly look in my direction, revealing a sort of sadness. This was new to me, as Daniels rarely shared any form of backstory with anyone. Let alone me.
"Redemption for what?"
"For being useless," he paused and took a breath, "The attacks on New Carthage. The very first bombings and shootings, I was in the middle of it. All I could do was hide and cry. The screaming, the blood. I couldn't do anything." His jaw tightens, anger being wrought out in his cheeks. His brow furrows as well, a stamp of frustration and regret resting on his visage.
"Don't tell me you blame yourself for that." I said.
"No, of course not. That would be stupid. The Insurrectionists did that of their own accord. But I'm angry because at that time, I could do nothing for the people that needed help." The tone of his voice said otherwise. The sorrow, anger and hatred of his voice sullied his usually calm demeanor. I'm not sure what happened, but his past cuts deep in him, staining whatever righteous image he could possibly have for himself.
"So, what, you joined the UNSC to redeem yourself? I never thought you to be the self-righteous type."
"Don't you know Corporal? The Chinese are very proud and honest people. One of our greatest tales involves redemption. I think." He smiles in my direction, suddenly cutting off the previous emotions. But as far as I can tell, it was only cursory.
"But still… why the UNSC? You're smart. You could've done so much more." Again, he smiles.
"I guess, for me, this is the only way I can see things done right. Warrior's code, you could say. To correct a wrong by the blade, you must do right by the blade." As he says this, he pauses his walk and raises his rifle into an aiming position. He mimes firing the weapon, producing fake recoil and mouthing a -boom- silently. He continues walking.
"I'm not sure why you're telling me this, Daniels. I don't- you're not telling me your God-damned testimony are you? Famous last words." I spoke with both humor and concern, even a bit angry. These were not things I want to hear, at least not from him.
"Ha. No, of course not. Look around, Corporal, nothing is going to kill us. At least not yet. Leave that type of stuff to Victor." He laughs it off, glancing my concern to the side.
"I've always imagined it though. How my name would look on a UNSC Placard, a tribute to the dead. The name 'Daniels' in nice, bold letters. Service tag: D444. It would bring my family great honor," He stares at the floor for a few seconds, "I think my… Mother would be very proud." His voice shook briefly at the mention of his mother. For a moment you could mistake it for grief, his eyes watering to add onto it. He breathed in deeply and soldiered on.
"Say, now that I think about it… why Daniels? That's your last name. You always told us to call you by your last name. What's your first name?" He looks over head, pondering my question for a few seconds, as if the answer to it were a sacred thing, and could not be bestowed upon just anyone. After a few more seconds, he turns his head my way.
"Xuéxí. My full name is Xuéxí Daniels. Name made by my father, proudly spoken by my mother." His look is stern, proud and regretful. My understanding of his circumstances is minimal, but it is apparent that pain shadows his past.
"Xuéxí... Xuéxí… am I saying that right? Hey, what does that even mea-" Before I could finish my question, he jerks his fist into the air. Everyone stops immediately and un-holsters their pistols, ready to fire. Daniels scans the canyon top above us, the sun glaring down onto his face as he raises his head little by little. His eyes freeze on one spot and widen, surprised by their discovery.
"Get down!" He pushes me off to the side, a bright green bolt of energy creating a divide and burning the ground between us, sizzling loudly after the impact. Now planted on the floor, I look up to see where the shot came from. I discover a nimble and bird-like but humanoid creature standing atop the canyon edge, a pistol of some sort in its right hand and a bright-blue and glowing shield on its left. It wore dark, synthetic leather type armor on its torso and legs, its feathered arms and feather-mohawk head left bare. The head itself was an anomaly, long and raptor like with sharp teeth lining the sides of both the upper and lower jaw. Although it was no larger than a man, it was terrifying in its own right. In a quick motion, it brings its arms down and raises its jowls into the air, creating a loud and ear-splitting screech, calling to its allies. Daniels raises his rifle in the howling monstrosity's direction and fires off a shot. The body of the nimble creature falls over the side and down on the rocks a dozen feet away from us, a loud snap accompanying its impact.
"Run! Jackals!" Miller screams as she begins to sprint forward. I turn around to check on the rest of the squad only to see a terrifying sight unfold behind them. Only twenty yards away, three Elites in blue armor snake out of their invisibility cloaks and draw out what look like blue assault rifles. This sight increases my heart beat, loudening the pulse in my ears and creating a deafening sporadic rhythm of bumps. The edges of my sight darken, narrowing my vision and nauseating me, like I'm about to black out. I don't want to move, I'm frightened. Why can't they just leave us alone? Fucking hell.
They raise their weapons in our direction and begin to open fire.
Having taken pause to observe the thrilling spectacle behind us, I have fallen behind the group. Hastily, I get up and begin sprinting after them. To buy us time, I pull the pin on one of my grenades and toss it at the Elites. Two of them jump forward, well past the blast of the grenade, but the one in the middle took the full brunt of its impact. It flew backwards in a sporadic motion, screaming loudly in a garbled way then lay motionless after rolling on the ground. I slide myself into a stop to turn around and lay down a couple shots from my magnum, then return to sprinting after missing every single fucking round. Bolts showered from the top of the canyon, a splendor of blue and green flying at the floor and past us. It's a wonder as to how none of us have been hit. But this blessing didn't last long.
"Ah, shit!" Daniels shouts. A large green bolt planted itself into his right shoulder, leaving a heated and scorched mess of his shoulder plate, revealing red flesh. He falls onto the floor, supporting himself with only his sniper rifle. Miraculously, he spins around and fires off a round, resulting in another body of a Jackal descending onto the floor. The look that took over his face was strained and tight, not one of pain but of evident anger. He looks down and sees the Elites trailing behind us, a scour replacing his face. Ignoring the pain from the energy blast, he staggers himself into a standing position and proceeds to continue running. Of all the things Daniels has done to impress me, that was at the top of the list.
Only a hundred yards away resides the exit of the canyon, tall large rocks acting as its sentinels. Between them only a little bit of wiggle room to squeeze through, making it significantly difficult to make a hasty exit. I turn and fire a few shots overhead, making pin point bullseyes on some rocks, but missing my intended targets. Aside from already being on the move, my increasing exhaustion made it very difficult to steady my aim. I turn around and see that we approached the exit, only several dozen yards left. Suddenly without warning, Daniels falls into me, staggering both of us into the wall. Letting the others past us, I help myself then Daniels up, both of us releasing some shots down range at the Elites behind us in an attempt to buy more time. My rounds landed but did little to no damage while Daniels' only grazed the leg of one of them. They approach us with terrifying and, inherently, inhumane speed. We start for the exit as well, seeing that the Miller and Myra had already slid through the exit, Vic right behind them.
"Even if we all get through there, it'll only be a matter of time before they get to us again." Daniels spoke, his breath rigid and heavy.
"I know, but we still have to try. It doesn't matter."
"The way I see it, it's pretty much futile to keep running." Daniels turns and shoots another round, then catches up with me again.
"Don't think that way, if we work together, we can make it." I pant the words out of my mouth as we make it to the mouth of the exit.
"That's why I like you, sir. You and Hitch always saw the silver lining," He smiles as we come to a stop, "You go first, I'll cover you." Nodding at his suggestion, I start to slide through, the rocks scraping at my stomach. It was a slow, too slow, process but I make it through. I turn to Daniels, ready to help him through only to be greeted by a smile. He tosses me something. After catching it, I open my hand to reveal the remaining rations he said he still had. When I look back up, he was pulling the pin on the grenade that I thought remained on my belt.
"It's futile if we all keep running. I'll buy us some time, Corporal. Enjoy the meal." He winks at me and tosses the grenade into the air.
"Wait, no! Daniels, NO!" I scream reaching for him only to be pulled back by Miller and Victor. The grenades detonation loosens the rocks that lay atop the sentinel pillars which then came crashing down between us, sealing the exit and forever separating Daniels from us. In a fit of both rage and unprecedented remorse, I scream and slam on the floor, shouting his name repeatedly and numbing my hands. I grab the dirt around me and throw it around, punching the ground and bleeding my knuckles.
I could do nothing for the people that needed help.
You God-damned fool. This is no time to be a hero. You were supposed to survive. You got your fucking wish Daniels. You saved us.
As the rocks crash down, my view of the Corporal disappears in the rubble and dust. The canyon had become darker for me, the shadows of the rocks towering over. Slowly I turn around, cradling my rifle in my hands. I pull the chamber back to inspect my lead count. One bullet.
My breathing is rugged, but steady. Silently, I wait for my attackers to approach. Two large Elites, clad in blue armor, sprint in my direction with nothing but pure animosity. The one furthest ahead threw its rifle to the side and flicks its right wrist, a small blade of energy protruding from the upper portion of his wrist guard. In one bound he makes one ferocious leap towards me, rearing his blade hand back, ready to stab me mid-air. I raise my rifle into the air. Taking a deep breath, I zero in on his face. Finger on the trigger, arms locked, I pull. The blast of the barrel produces a large and shocking recoil into my shoulder, simultaneously creating a thunderous echo in the canyon. The bright orange flames of the rifle blossom in front of me, sending a white and gaseous stream ahead, the round blazing right through the Elites head, splattering the rocks behind him with purple blood and sending the limp body to the floor.
"I am the learned one." I say to myself in Chinese. Immediately I start sprinting at the other Elite.
"Wort, wort, wort!" It shouts, frantically raising its weapon. In a quick manner, I flip the sniper around and grab it by the barrel, turning it into a large metal club. Approaching the Elite, I spin around with the makeshift club's head outwards, giving the predicted impact more momentum. The stock of the rifle lands directly into the monster's face, staggering him backwards in a fit of pain and rage. Using the momentum gained, I draw my knife and tackle the Elite into the ground, firmly planting my knife into its neck, only to bring the blade out and thrust back in with even more force. Helplessly, it gargles its blood, some of it splurging out of its mouth and peppering my own face. It was both disgusting and satisfying. Its flavor bitter and metallic.
"Having been wronged by the blade…" I recite further. Rearing backwards, I lift the Elite's upper body in front of me, using it as a meat shield. I pull my magnum out of my holster and start firing at the Jackals up above me, adding several more bodies to my kill count. Down range, a few more Elites accompanied by some Jackals were sprinting this direction.
-POW-POW-POW- More Jackals fall from the top. Their green energy bolts slowly shredding and cooking the body of the Elite I hold. After three more shots, the magnum clicks. My last round expended, I drop the body and made for its rifle.
"I will do right by the blade." After picking it up, I feel around the apparatus of the device, searching for any trigger like mechanism. Having found what seems to be what I desire, I fire a few shots from the rifle. Hot plasma scorches the rock in front of me. Satisfied with my experiment, I sprint towards the mass of soldiers down the canyon, plasma rifle raised their direction and releasing a volley of plasma their way. Several of the shots were able to kill two Jackals, but the Elites dove out the way, closing in on my position. With trigger held down for so long, it seems as though the weapon has over heated, losing its immediate functionality. In a desperate attempt, I pick up the closest rock and run towards them with malicious intent. My actions were met with immediate and deadly force.
The leading Elite, armored in dark orange plating, roars as it jumps into the air and kicks me in the face. The impact launches me several feet backwards, dislodging some of my teeth. When I land, I roll backwards and slide into a stop. Slowly getting up, I cough up some blood. My own blood. Although my vision is hazy, I spot my knife on the ground next to one of the bodies. I crawl towards it, and attempt to reach for it but before I could even touch the blade, my wrist gets crushed under the foot of the orange monstrosity. It picks me up by the throat and pins me onto the rocky wall. Losing air, I struggle with the grip of the Elite, clawing at its hand. It brought its face closer to mine, breathing hot air onto my face. Knowing I have little to lose, I spit blood into its face. It wipes its face quickly and angrily then brings it back to mine.
"GRRRAAAGH!" It roars loudly, violently creating vibrations in my ear drums.
~KSSHHHH~ A warm but painful feeling pierces my stomach. With its grip loosening on my neck, I look down to inspect the new sensation. A beautiful, white blade of energy firmly cut into my gut. I touch the blade, my gloves being greeted with a quiet sizzling. The Elite pulls it out of my body and throws me to the side. With what little energy I have left, I lay myself upwards to face the sky. A nice, beautiful, blue sky. A breeze flows downward, cooling off the hot skin on my face. It felt like sweet relief to the arduous journey I've been going through. But guilt still flows in me. What I'm doing here is not fair to the rest of my squad, for I can rest while they must push forward. I'm sorry, Corporal, Vic, Myra. Hell, even Miller. Sorry I can't finish the mission with the rest of you. But this is as far as I go.
I'm proud of you. I think my mother would say. Yes. Of course she would, she loves me. I love her. What mother wouldn't be proud of a hero? I think she'll greet me well once I see her. I'll be able to greet her and the rest of my family without the shame in my heart. They'll be able to see a brave warrior, not a coward.
"I am Xuéxí, the learned one." I whisper to myself. With this, I'll be able to apologize to them for New Carthage. This is a proper reunion.
我学会了
刀片一直致力于得罪我
我是公义的刀片
我叫学习
我学会了
