Hello again! Lone wolf legendary, is still alive!
Again, I will start the way I usually do. Thank you, everyone who has taken time out of their day to read this story, favorited it, Review it and or follow it. I would like to thank: OverratedPendragon, rancorlover, Anon8792, Icesquall, Teleri Sina Atari, BLacKxBUrN, YourOfficalEditor, Cooler, Krulla Chief, Valkarious, Guest, and Celis for your reviews. Thank you!
OverratedPendragon: Well the answer for that is-[REDACTED]. Much like Hanji's gender in the mange-look it up, she isn't engendered in the mange, only in the anime- I'm leaving plot potential points unknown until its written, or not, into the story.
rancorlover, Cooler: your answer awaits you in this chapter
Anon8792, YourOfficalEditor, Valkarious, and Celis: Thank you for your compliments!
Icesquall: I fixed the wording in that area for clarification.
Teleri Sina Atari: I would if I could and culture shock is something that I have been looking forward to writing!
BLacKxBUrN: If you spend the time to review, I feel obliged to acknowledge it. And yes Mikasa continues to be Eren's knight in shining armor :p
Krulla Chief: I'll do my best to watch those words and here's to you for keeping me to a standard.
Now that that's out of the way, here's the next Chapter!
Chapter 7: Ghosts and Ashes
Six opened his eyes to the artificial glow of interior lighting.
Almost immediately he noticed that he was not wearing his armor and... he had no recollection of how or why he was there. He just... was. And for some unconscious reason he didn't question that fact.
As he sat up from the table he found himself on, he took in his surroundings.
He was in a medical recovery room, empty recovery tables lining both sides of the room, and all save for one entrance to the room was sealed... Not a living soul could be seen nor heard, only the soft rumbles of the ship's internal workings was all that met his ears.
Seeing no alternative, Six stood up and walked towards the open door.
When he finally passed into the hallway outside of the room, he was confronted by three inscriptions hung on the wall opposite the door. The first inscription was the most dominant and was positioned above the other two, reading 'UNSC Hopeful; Wing E2'.
A flood of familiarity passed over Six as he read those words. This was the place where he enlisted and became a Spartan. This was the place where everything changed...
Why was it so empty?... It was almost always packed with the injured and mortally wounded. Those people who would miraculously be brought back to life, by the shear skill and willpower of the ships surgeons...
Beneath that inscription, pointing to his left was another sign that read 'Operation Rooms 16E-30E; Orange line Tram', while another pointing to his right read 'Operation Rooms 1E-15E; Elevator system C'.
As Six looked down both respective corridors, he noticed that the airlock to his left was sealed preventing him from going further down that path, but to his right the airlock was still open, almost as if to lead him somewhere else...
As he began to walk down this new path, everything behind him seemed to fade into nothingness as he passed by... almost as if to prevent him from going back. By the time he reached 'Operation Room 4E' he was struck by another memory of his past.
'Operation Room 4E'
This was the room he had entered as a kid, and exited as a Spartan. This was the reward for passing training, to become a thing that could change the world. He remembered how this was his goal, for so many nights, from the day he enlisted, to become... something more than he could ever be as a normal person... to help change the very fabric of the war. To be the nameless, faceless, hero. To become a Spartan.
He also remembered meeting Lieutenant Commander De Guzman in these halls, just prior and after his operation. The man had lost his left leg during an emergency recovery operation to the heavily wounded UNSC Yorktown during the battle of Alpha Aurigae. De Guzman was one of fifteen soldiers to volunteer to enter the floundering vessel and search for survivors and the wounded.
Reports were hazy as to the specifics of his injury, but what is clearly known was that at some point during the operation a pressurized pipeline in one of the ship's halls exploded near him, lacerating his leg to the bone. But instead of retreating back to the UNSC Hopeful, he opted to stomach a handful of stimulants and apply a field dressing to his leg, before continue to help orchestrate the rescue operation...
In the end, his actions along with that of the others who ventured into the floundering UNSC York managed to save seventy of the original three hundred man crew, including the captain and most of the bridge personnel before the Destroyer's core detonated. Had he turned back when his leg was originally injured, he could have saved it, but De Guzman saw saving a few more lives worth sacrificing his leg over. After that, he was offered a position away from the frontlines due to his injury, but he had refused, opting to stay aboard the UNSC Hopeful and replace his missing leg with a military grade prosthetic.
Four years later, De Guzman would end up losing an eye while helping to evacuate military and civilian personnel wounded during the Battle of Eridanus II. When Six had finally met De Guzman, eleven years after losing his eye, Six could see that he was still ready to sacrifice even more if it was ever needed to save lives.
Which lead Six's thoughts to wander to the ship's captain, Vice Rear Admiral Ysionris Jeromi, who had been verbally reprimanded, demoted, and promoted for taking these sorts of actions, again and again, over the course of the Human-Covenant and the Insurrectionist Wars. Taking a ship that amounted to a field hospital, with no weapons or armor to speak of, into the middle of active battles in an attempt to save as many lives as possible... The Vice Rear Admiral had become next to a legend for these actions and was even awarded the Colonial Cross twice for these actions.
But Six was torn from these thoughts as his body began to move him forward once more. But this time without his consent.
As he moved forward he was led down another corridor that was supposed to house the area's elevators. But...
When he finally saw what was down that corridor, his heart sank...
Before him, the corridor shifted from the immaculate clean metal of a medical ship, into an older worn metal of a colony planet. Even the floors changed as it approached the far end of the hall, from ship metal flooring to a ground made out of dirt, grass, sand and blood. And at the far end of the hall.. were the elevators were supposed to be located, sat the gaping, charred, and beaten jaws of a fallout bunker.
Ignoring Six's conscious wishes to stop, his body continued to move him forward, ever closer to the darkness within those doors...
Six could never forget those doors, nor what had transpired on that planet during the Battle of Leonis Minoris...
Dian Cecht.
As soon as Six passed the threshold into the bunker, all light vanished from the hall in which he had came. He could hear the bunker doors begin to seal, but he already knew they never managed to seal it in time... And that was when all those memories assaulted Six.
...It began like it always did, first he heard crying, whimpering, and pleads for mercy, but then it all changed in an instant as the slaughter began. Vivid images of the battle seared into Six's mind like a plasma bolt as he was forced to relive these memories. Soon his body grew wet and warm as he was covered in the fresh blood of those who were being slaughtered around him... Eventually he was buried beneath their fresh corpses, using them to hide from the Covenant. But this was only the beginning to Six's hell, as every battle he was ever involved in or witnessed began barraging him in quick succession, reminding him of all his failures and the death that consistently existed around him. All the while whispered and spoken words where being etched into the Spartan's mind until he could finally break himself free from sleep's cold embrace...
"How far are you willing to go?"
"We're both ghosts, you and I..."
"Run and don't look back-"
"-Are you a puppet or are you a Spartan!"
"Folks need heroes-"
"There will be another time..."
"What do you fight for-"
Day 1 After landing.
Trost District, UNSC 'camp'
The golden rays of early morning sunlight began to slowly crest over the colossal walls that surrounded Trost District, as Captain Schmitt prepared for the end of the of his night watch. He turned to see if his... partner, Galik, was still doing his job. That being, to watch for possible threats to the group and, not, looting any of the nearby abandoned buildings.
Good, he's still doing his job. Schmitt thought to himself, though, I bet he's probably more nervous about these people then a reprimandation from me, especially since our only easy way out is now blocked by a bolder the size of a building...
After that, Schmitt did a quick sweep of the buildings on his half of the camp as well, before going to check on the rest of the sleeping survivors.
Everyone was sleeping with a gun in their hands. Not exactly a sign of trust, but who could blame them? Nearly a month of continues fighting on Reach and now this whole situation... even Schmitt had slept with a loaded weapon during his shift to sleep...
Regardless, in five minutes, Schmitt was going to have to wake everyone up to begin their first morning on this planet. Something that not even he was looking forward to doing. So much politicking would need to be done. They had been lucky that this... walled community, had been attacked. It had allowed them to show off their skills and bypass any initial politicking, but now... now that this battle was done and over with, they'd have to deal with all the politics in full.
Which meant, that whole situation was still a balancing act. The group of survivors would have to look strong, so that the local military wouldn't try and break their agreement or possibly even go so far as to try and confiscate their weapons as a show of superiority. But the group couldn't look too strong either, less the local government begins to fear their ability and in an attempt to maintain their consolidated power turn on the survivors of Reach...
Schmitt sighed at these thoughts. I signed up to protect the people of the UNSC and to shoot a rifle at anyone who would harm them, but now... now I have to play politician... just great...
Schmitt still in his thoughts, turned his attention to the resting Spartan, I wonder if you ever thought you'd end up in a situation like this... Schmitt took a second to take in the subtle details of Six's armor; the dents, the burns, and the dust and blood that caked his armor. No... I'm sure you never thought a situation like this would ever happen...
And that was when Schmitt noticed small, subtle shifts in the Spartan's position. Had Schmitt not been focusing so carefully on the Spartan to begin with, he would have never had noticed. Even now, watching closely to the tiny shifts and tension in the Spartans arms, legs, and fingers, he wondered if his eyes were just playing tricks on him, for these changes was just, barely visible...
That was when the Spartan's head swiveled up, taking in everything around him. It seemed that he was already looking for any potential threats or changes to the local area. Rumor had it, that this was the norm for Spartans in the field or at base waiting for a mission. And had that been all the Captain had seen, he wouldn't have even spared a thought to it, but, the Captain knew what those twitches and muscle tensions before and knew what they meant. He had seen it countless times on battle worn marines and even veteran ODST's during their times away from the battlefield.
Most tried to hid it, even in their sleep, but few were even able to even hide it well even in the day. The only ones he had ever seem to have any real success in hiding it were the ODST's he had fought with and lead. Their ability to hide it even in sleep was the only real reason why Schmitt, was able to have even the faintest idea of what Six had experienced, though, this was by far the most well hidden he had ever seen...
So, the Captain began to prod, to see if his thoughts were correct. "How are you doing Six?"
Six, by now, had by now already gathered himself and was checking his gear and armor when he replied with a short response, "Fine, Sir."
Schmitt knew better then to expect a different answer from the Spartan. ODST's could sometimes be vary closed about their personal history, and from the very brief time he had spent with the Spartans during the fall of Reach, he knew that Spartans were in a league of their own, when it came to not sharing personal history. They'd be very open with sharing weapons, gear, and necessary mission knowledge, but they wouldn't say a single word about anything that wasn't mission or battle focused.
So Schmitt tried a different approach, as he looked over at the two Marines who were sleeping quietly with rifles in their hands. "Looks like they're sleeping peacefully..." he paused making sure that Six was looking at the sleeping duo, "I'd be willing to bet that they aren't dreaming of anything, I mean, after everything we've seen this past month alone, a dreamless night could be considered a godsend."
Six originally, only offered a nod, a gesture made so small that at first Schmitt had mistaken it as Six merely adjusting his head while taking in a breath. But as soon as Six offered his response, did Schmitt notice what the gesture really was. "Dreams... they can be as dangerous a weapon as a gun or a grenade."
Schmitt shifted his attention to the ground in thought as he pondered that answer. As dangerous as a gun or grenade... He was right. After a few seconds Schmitt snapped out of it. "Ya... dreams can be deadly."
After that, the two stood in silence for another minute as they kept an eye on Benjamin and the perimeter before Schmitt finally spoke up once more. "Ow, I almost forgot."
Schmitt fished his hand into one of the hard pouches on his armor before retrieving a data module and passed it to Six. "We found this on Operative Foresights body... And since you're the closest thing to ONI, you've got the right to hold onto it."
Six only seemed to look the module over for a few seconds before placing it in one of his armors own hard points. "Thank you, Sir."
Schmitt had nothing to back it up on but he had a gut feeling that Six was going to see what was in that module. If he would share that information with anyone else... well, that was a whole other question. Regardless, it was time to woke Corporal Stacker and Private Schultz.
As the two Marines woke up, gathered themselves and prepared for the day ahead of them, Schmitt once again turned towards the Spartan. "You know... I've been thinking Six. If the situation was reversed and we found these people at the doorstep to one of our colony worlds during an invasion, even if we made a deal with them, ONI would have shown up by now and have whisked them away to be 'dealt with' in some… 'appropriate manner'."
Six's response was noteworthy to Schmitt since he didn't deny that ONI would do that, "ONI would have."
"So the question becomes... where.. is this world's ONI? And why haven't they come for us yet?"
Six was quite for a moment before he answered in a measured manner. "If I were to hazard a guess, it would be because we have made ourselves known to too many people in this area for an organization, ONI like, to remove us from the public eye without causing more internal and external problems for the organization and the nation as a whole."
"Hmm... So this battle, which caused us to be seen by so many people, really was our godsend..." But that was when a new thought hit Schmitt, "But knowing ONI, they would have other alternatives to get their hands on the outsiders. How long until this place's ONI makes a move on us?"
By now, Six was focusing on a new group of local soldiers who were watching them that had an emblem of a green Unicorn on their uniforms. Given that the Survey Corps and the Garrison used an emblem of enclosed wings and roses respectively, the only other local military element they had not yet seen in person up to this point was the Military Police, and it seemed that these were them.
Why a unicorn? That doesn't exactly seem like a military emblem... but Schmitt's thoughts were cut short as Six finally spoke up.
"My guess: when a high ranking official arrives that can pass judgment on us, that's when they will move in."
"So we may have some time..."
After several more minutes of silence, taking in the sight of the local military watch them and smelling the beginnings of rotting flesh, Schmitt spoke up again "I think... I might have an idea."
Petra sat on the edge of one of the still, mostly intact buildings that overlooked the UNSC camp. With Oruo and Eld to either side of her. She couldn't help but think back to the events that had transpired the previous day, during this quite morning...
Petra was still unsure of that to do about these newcomers. Ever since the previous night when she, and the rest of Levi's squad, save for Levi himself who was dealing with the Titan shifter, had been told that they were to observe and protect the newcomers from anything that might threaten their agreement, she didn't know how to feel about them. They had done everything they said they would, and now, they were probably going to be arrested in the next two days for being what they were: outsiders. But that wasn't the thing that was gnawing at her, what was truly bothering her was the fact that no one had told them about that possibility yet.
It just didn't sit right with her. Arresting them would have seemed like the right thing to do a day ago when they had just arrived, but now... they had risked their lives to save the district and this was how they were going to be repaid... like criminals.
But she was brought out of these thoughts when Eld noticed something unexpected. "Commander Pixis is here? And he's heading over to the outsiders camp!?"
That grabbed the attention of everyone in the group as they turned their attention to Eld for directions. "What are your orders, sir?" Gunther asked.
"We've got to get down there to see what he's planning on doing." And as he said that, Eld leapt down off the building in hopes of intercepting Commander Pixis before he reached the outsiders.
But they were just moments too late. By the time the squad made it to Commander Pixis, he had already made contact with the outsider's camp, causing Petra and the rest in the squad to hesitate. They didn't know how to tackle the situation in front of them, Pixis outranked them all, but his objective at the moment was unknown and could very well ruin the tentative alliance between the two groups...
"So you're the outsiders who have helped my soldiers block the gate." Pixis began with a large smile on his face. Proving yet another eccentric act for this eccentric Commander. "I wanted to thank you all for helping get my troops get out of their alive and in one piece."
"Your welcome," Captain Schmitt replied, still covered head to toe in his black armor. "But we didn't save everyone..."
"No..." Pixis responded distantly, before refocusing on the man in front of him. "You didn't. But your actions in this battle saved many more lives which would have otherwise been lost in the battle and I commend you for that. After all, from what I have gathered, this isn't your fight."
Schmitt didn't seem to have a response for that, so after several seconds, Pixis once again spoke up but this time placing his attention on the Spartan. "You know, I've heard many rumors circulating about you. Several say you're over 2.2 meters tall, silent as a ghost, and faster than even a Titan. And others have even suggested that you wear a green suit of metal with a gold reflective face to watch the world around you. Like some long forgotten demon of old..."
Petra had already heard the first rumor from many soldiers the previous night who only had fleeting glimpses of the Spartan in action but this was the first time she had heard anyone mention the second rumor about the Spartan. Green armor and a gold faceplate... Where did he hear that one from?
As Petra made those thoughts to herself, Pixis looked the Spartan up and down before continuing with a cocked smile. "I can't say I'm disappointed... You may not be quite as tall as the rumors suggest, and your armor and faceplate are the wrong colors. But you sure do look the part of a legend."
It was then that Commander Pixis offered his hand to the Spartan which resulted in the Spartan raising his hand to shake. But instead of immediately grabbing Pixis hand, the Spartan seemed to slow his motions as if he was afraid to break the object he was about to grab.
But as their hands finally met, Pixis could only offer a short laugh, "You are a peculiar one; you know that? But, regardless, I'm glad you and your people came to our aid."
After that, Pixis seemed to once again shift gears, as he spoke to the survivors as a group "Which reminds me, Generalissimo Zackly, the head of all three branches of our military will be arriving to the city in the next two days. No doubt he will want to meet you all. After all, the rumors about you all have already reached the capital..."
As Pixis' continued, his face seemed to darken, "And while your actions here have made you a friend to many in the local Garrison and heroes to the citizens of Trost, there are those in the interior who fear what you are and what you might be..."
"So... Zackly will be the one to decide our ultimate fate?" It was Captain Schmitt who decided to fill in the gape Pixis was alluding to.
"That would be correct." Pixis began, "If it were me, I would uphold your agreement with the Survey Corps. Especially after what had transpired yesterday with your help. But ultimately, he has the military authority over what would happen to your people, save for if the king, if he were to decide to weigh into this affair. This, after all, is still a possibility since you do represent a foreign power... but ultimately, it will be the military and the people who will decide your fate."
Petra could barely hear the UNSC civilian mutter something along the lines of "even kings bow to the mob" under his breath.
It was then that Captain Schmitt spoke up but to Petra and the rest of Levi's squads' surprise the UNSC Captain did not seem upset... It's as if he already expected this outcome. "Commander Pixis, thank you for coming here and sharing this information with us." he then motioned his head to the district in front of him as he continued, "And as a show of our gratitude, if you would allow, we would be more than willing to help in the recovery effort to retrieve and help bury the bodies of the fallen in your city."
Pixis cocked yet another smile; as if that was the answer he was hoping for. "I can have that arranged by tomorrow." Pixis then turned to Petra and the rest of the Squad" Though, your military escorts will have to be with you at all times."
"I would expect nothing less."
This caused a hailstorm of thoughts to bombard Petra and the rest of Levis squad.
What are these two up to...?
Pixis...
Schmitt...
Is Pixis trying to use this as a way to get the outsiders to sympathize more with our cause... or is this some sort of unorthodox method to drum up support to keep the outsiders around... What was his game?
And on that note, why did it seem like the outsiders already knew that they were going to run into this problem...Have they really thought that far in advance? Or... have they already had experienced this sort of situation before... or maybe they were looking for ways to escape the city...
Why was Pixis allowing them to help?
The following day
Recovery staging area
"I heard those outsiders are going to be assisting in recovery today. I guess it will be their first day as well for this nightmare..."
This was the fourth time today Jean had overheard people mentioning those outsiders as he put on a pair of gloves for the... the work ahead of him. As he did so, he noticed Annie quietly preparing beside him and decided to ask her a question, to offset he nerves about the work ahead of him. "Hey, you've seen these outsiders already, haven't you?"
Annie only turned her eyes towards Jean, "Yes, I have."
"Do you have any idea why they would volunteer to help us in this... job?"
Annie's attention seemed to shift to the ground in front of her, as if she was drawn into thought, "They... you could tell that they have seen and dealt with this before..."
"Do you think we will cross paths with them?"
But it seemed Annie was done talking, for she walked away as Jean was asking this question. Leaving Jean with nothing but his thoughts and the ghostly silence that surrounded death. Where's Marco when you need him?
As Jean walked down the blood stained and damaged streets of Trost, not even fifteen minutes into his shift on recovery duties, did Jean run into the outsiders. If Jean was remembering correctly this was about the area he had last seen Marco...
Their giant green metal carriage, towing a cart that was already leaden with several corpses, respectfully positioned and covered within the cart was the first thing he saw. A mildly unkempt outsider seemed to be watching the vehicle as two Survey Corps members kept watch on the outsiders. Another two outsiders, what he assumed was the rumored Spartan, and a black clad soldier gathered around a corpse on the far side of their metal machine.
As Jean approached, he could finally make out some of what the black armored soldier were saying, "Looks like another Trainee-"
This drew a morbid curiosity out of Jean, who could it be that they had found? Who could have died here?
But as Jean drew closer to the outsiders and the corpse that was hidden away, he began to have second thoughts on seeing who the corpse happened to be. Reluctantly, he came to the realization that someone would need to identify the body so he stepped forward. Finally getting a clear view of the body, but when he did, he immediately regretted the decision.
"Marco.."
Jean began to mutter quietly to himself as he looked at the corpse and slowly backed away. Unbeknownst to himself, he had already drawn the attention of the two outsiders. But, Jean was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice, "Someone had to have seen him die... Someone had to know how he went out..."
And with those quiet words, Jean turned and slowly began to walk down the street in search of a ghost which could tell him how his friend had died...
Jean was so caught up him his thoughts that he didn't hear the black armored soldier call for him. Only when the man put his hand gently on his shoulder and firmly hold Jean back from walking away into the nothingness of despair, did Jean notice him.
The first thing Jean noticed about the man was his black armor and silver visor, which in Jeans current state reminded him of descriptions of what death himself looked like. Clad in black, with a silver-gray skull... That thought was quickly shaken out of him as the silver visor became transparent revealing the man beneath the mask.
His face was muddied and hard. Two deep scars dug across the left side of his face. One began just beneath his left eye and splayed out and down across his cheek, with the other began in the middle of his face, just beneath the nose but above the lip, that also followed the same orientation as the first. Other markings of war were also littered his face, but those two scars stood out above the rest.
But when the man began to speak, Jean was taken by the fierceness of the man's eyes, the eyes of a hardened soldier. "You alright there kid?" The man looked at Marco's body, "It seems like you know him... Who was he?"
Jean was still shell shocked from seeing Marko on the ground, missing half his face, answered the man numbly, in a vague hope that the man would let him go to look for someone who saw how Marco died. "His name is Marko Bott and he was in command of the 19th Trainee Squad..." Desperation slowly set in as he realized that he was already speaking of his friend in past tense, "Hey... you wouldn't have seen what happened to him, had you?"
"No. And from the looks of it, I doubt anyone else saw what happened..."
When the man said that, Jean pulled away in repulsion. No, someone had to have seen it... He wasn't right, someone saw it.
But before Jean could move away to seek his answer, the armored man grab him by the shoulder again, and this time moved closer to Jean. "Hey! Before you go off chasing shadows and squandering what little time you have to make peace with the dead I want you to know something. You should feel lucky that you even have a body to bury, we rarely get that luxury, so don't squander it. Because if you do," His voice then became quieter as he continued, "it will be something you will regret till your dying breath..."
This caused Jean to freeze, what was he getting at? And that was when Jean noticed the emblem on the man's armor. A flaming skull overlaying what appeared to be a coffin. Was death so common in their outfit that they found it fitting to consider themselves already dead?
"What?"
"You heard me." His grip loosened, "I can tell this is the first friend you've had die in battle. But as a soldier, I am sorry to inform you that this will not be the last. As long as you fight, you will know people who die. And although the sight of their bodies might repulse you and drive you away, those are not the ones who will haunt your nights. It is those you never see die; those who disappear in the fog of war. They will haunt your dreams. For you will never have any closure about their deaths, hell, you wouldn't even be able to know if they really are dead... for all you know, they may very well be suffering a fate worse than death."
And that was when Jean stopped resisting. He was starting to truly understand the gravity of the situation, "I... I think I understand..."
The armored man let his arm fall after that, but Jean only stood there for a moment before walking towards Marco's side. He stood there for several seconds, minutes, or hours... It was hard for Jean to tell, but in that time, he finally found some inkling of closure for his friend's death. After that, with the assistance of the Spartan, and the black soldier, known as ODST, Jean recover Marco's body...
Before the outsiders moved away from Jean's area for recovery, Jean finally asked the ODST about his emblem and the response he received was cryptic, "It reminds us of what we volunteered for... and how we cheat death."
That Night
The Recovery Pyres
Jean sat in silence as he watching the corpses of those who fell two days ago slowly burn away into ash...
The words of the outsiders, as well as, Marco's last words to him from two days ago still gnawed at the back of Jeans mind. After everything he had went through, all the hard choices he had to make... There was no way he was going into the Military Police, not any more...
He bent down and picked up a shard of bone, reminiscing to the ashes about Marco...
It was then that Jean saw Marko's ghost and was assured in his action. He solemnly turned to the other cadets as he drew their attention, "Hey, guys... have you decided which force you're joining? I've made up my mind... "He started to tremble and had to hold onto himself as he continued, "I... I... I'm joining the Survey Corps."
And in that moment of silence that followed his declaration, while he was holding himself steady did he notice the outsiders once more. They had arrived so quietly, that it was only the presence of the Survey Corps group with them that made the outsiders presence known. They were near the outer wall near the pyres, just visible by the fire's light. Their vehicles sat quietly besides them as they set to work.
As Jean stood there, shard of bone still in hand, numbly thinking about everything, did he noticed that they were creating four small mounds of rock. Which they then ornamented by placing a rifle vertical, muzzle buried in each mound. After that, a helmet was adorned on three of the rifles, while a flag was placed at the feet of each rifle. The ODST's flag, Jean noticed, was bloodied, burnt, and more torn than the others...
Though Jean had never seen this act before, it didn't take a genius to understand what each mound represented. Graves...
He then watched as a sort of numbed viewer as the group, in their foreign tongue, line up. And then, moving in unison they went into a position of attention, before, as one, solute the unmanned graves. A ghostly melody began to play shortly after, originating somewhere within the group of outsiders...
The melody was quite, but sad. Almost like it was playing out all those who had departed. By now everyone knew that they were there, but no one bothered them. For the outsiders, in that moment, were one of them. To share and shed blood, even if it is not witnessed by each other, could still create an odd union of brotherhood.
In the end, they lowered their solutes after the melody ended, before dispersing to honor the makeshift memorial's to their fallen comrades in turn. In their own ways...
After nearly an hour, they gathered their gear, leaving nothing more than four piles of rock behind, before heading back to the area they had originally set up camp...
Leaving those who had witnessed this event, feeling oddly closer to the outsiders, even though no words were ever shared between the two groups...
-Chapter End-
Hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
Again, I want to thank my friend DeadzManWalking for Beta reading my story. And Anon8792 for offering some suggestions.
To all of you who have read this chapter, I thank you for your time and hope you all have a good day/night depending on when your reading this.
Please if you are inclined, leave a constructive review or PM me if needed. In many ways they help fuel my writing.
