Chapter 10: Sarge is Dead
"I still can't believe this…" Raynor was almost sulking on the transport, "I mean, I get his reasons an' all, but I just don't understand them. I don't mind rescuin' those folks out there but that slimy toad is a different story. I say we let'em rot!"
"I hear you man," Logan concurred, "If things were up to me, I'd let every last one of those Confederate cockroaches die out there."
"Do yerself a favor boys," Bennett told them, "Don't try ta understand the way the higher ups think…It's too full of political agenda jargon and bullshit. An' Mensgk is no exception. For every pretty word he talks, there's a couple that ain't so pretty hidin' under it, talkin' of an alternate program."
"What are you saying exactly?" Logan asked him warily.
"What I'm sayin' Stone is that while Mensgk talks like yer perfect freedom fighter an' all that, I doubt that he's tellin' us everything. Political types speak a lot crap that we grunts wanna hear, just to inspire us and make us go out an' die for their righteous cause more willingly."
"Don't tell me you think those Confederate's are any better! They're a bunch of lying cheating, scumbags, every last one of them!"
"Heh heh, trust me, I ain't disputin' the fact son…Hell, I guess I'd have ta have a pretty damn big hole in my head ta try an' argue that. But when someone wants ta take out the biggest government in the whole damn sector, leavin' a big gapin' hole right in the middle of things, than I'd bet my balls that there's more to that person's plan than simple revenge. An' there ain't no better way ta do it than by tryin' ta turn an enemy to yer side. If Mensgk gets Duke, he gets all them Alpha squad boys, and that'll make his little fleet here a whole hell of a lot more dangerous."
"We're approaching the LZ!" the pilot crackled over the radio, "It looks clear but move your asses. I've caught sight of tons of Zerg in the area and they might be creeping about down there."
"Okay y'all," Bennett bellowed, standing up even as the dropship was unnervingly swaying, "We're movin' out! We hit the ground runnin' boys, so don't fall behind! Let's go!"
After their victory over General Duke's Alpha Squad team at the Antigan base, the Sons of Korhal had withdrew their forces, now bolstered by the raring and ready Antigans. Open rebellion and straight conflict looked closer already. Only a few short hours later though, the Sons of Korhal communication's array picked a signal that began to run across all Confederate channels. Unlike all the others, this one was not heavily encrypted. In fact, it wasn't encrypted period. It was a distress call, being broadcast over all available comm. channels.
"This is General Duke of the Alpha Squad flagship Norad II. We have crash-landed and are being hit hard by the Zerg. We request immediate backup from anyone receiving this signal. Repeat, this is a Priority One distress call…"
Logan heard all of this second hand from Raynor, who was perfectly willing to let Duke get eaten alive by the Zerg, but Acturas had other plans. He ordered Raynor and some of his boys to go down, break the blockade and get Duke out of there. Everyone thought Mensgk was out of his mind, rescuing his enemy from a gruesome and well-deserved fate, but if one was too look at it logically, they would see his reasoning was sound.
A small military/civilian outpost was also around the same area as the crash site, innocent people being caught up in the whole ordeal and their rescue was part of the mission. And getting Duke to join the Sons of Korhal would be a crippling blow to the Confederate army. The only real downside to the plan would be, simply, General Duke wouldn't be dead. And that plain yet unreceptive thought put a damper on a lot of people's moods. But the order had been issued and Logan, Raynor, and 507 would be heading down to help. Reinforcements would be along behind them shortly, but their job was to keep the base standing until then.
The dropship hadn't managed to get them right into the besieged camp but they were only a little way off from it, to the southeast, perhaps a mile or thereabouts. The terrain was rocky but flat enough so Raynor could go out ahead of everyone on his bike to scout the route ahead. It wasn't long before he reported in.
"We got Zerg!" Raynor called though the radio, "Stragglers it looks like, but they're blockin' the road." Bennett ordered the pace picked up and the unit broke out into a run, rushing to catch up with Raynor. And speak of the devil, his cycle came hauling back into view from around the rocks, a small band of screeching Zerg right on his tail.
"Wax'em boys," the sergeant yelled, "and don't spare'em any pain!" At the last moment, Raynor wheeled his bike out of the line of fire, having led the eager Zerg right into the firepower of 507, and a short barrage of devastation later, they were twitching, bleeding, corpses in the dust.
"More where that came from I'm sure. Keep marchin' everyone, we need ta get to that camp pronto!" Their pace increased, the troop made their way along the winding trail, keeping their eyes open for any more Zerg surprises. Luck was on their side though, as no more ambushes were sprung and soon from across the barren plains, tendrils of smoke rising in the air were spotted. In a matter of minutes, the unit found the outpost they were looking for.
"Shit," Marcus whistled, looking over the dilapidated base camp, "This place looks like its been through hell…I think we got here a little late." For indeed, the buildings left standing looked to be in bad need of repair, several of them having smoldering fires burning nearby. Others looked dinged and torn, no doubt from claws and teeth of vicious little attackers. There was some movement in the base, a few SCV moving about, doing their best to keep the base operational. There was no sign of any sort of military presence.
"Well that means were gonna have ta make up for it. Alright," Bennett addressed his crew, spitting onto the hard ground, "All of y'all get on around the base and help out with repairs. I want that barracks up and runnin' within the hour; every last one of them fires put out, and then the lot of ya will take positions on the borders and watch for trouble. Me an' the captain will be in the command center an' begin sortin' this mess out. Move it!"
And so the restoration of the camp began, as the eleven members of 507 fanned out, looking out for anything they could do to improve the security and function of their headquarters. The barrack's generators were offline, so the combat suit assembly system and the passcode operated security locker were inaccessible, so the technical experts had to reconnect the power. All over the place were fires, some buildings smoldering with spreading flames. The majority of these were taken care of by the manual activation of the emergency incendiary extinguish system that each structure had built in. Then, there was the rigorous search for survivors throughout the whole mangled mess of the camp to keep the soldiers occupied.
Logan put some fires out, but really had little idea on how to help out with repairs and was on his way over to the northwestern bunker to offer his rifleman services when he noticed that some of the walls to the Engineering Bay were dented in, maybe from those nasty little Zerg throwing themselves against it. Though he wasn't an engineer, or a welder, an architect, a technician, or anything other than a soldier, he still tried to repair the unsightly indentations. Which wasn't saying much, he gripped the crumbled wall and began yanking it, trying to straighten it out, while beating his fist down on the welts to undo the dents.
"Yo Logan!" Logan quit yanking on the bent piece of sheetmetal and glanced behind to see Marcus trotting over; one eyebrow raised at Logan's contribution to the refurbishing efforts.
"Our reinforcements are inbound, an' I'm headin' out to meet 'em. I need ya to watch my back." All of a sudden, Logan felt like a jackass, having wasted his time with his laughable efforts, glad for the shift in priorities.
"Sure thing, the more guys' we have here, the better. I'm feeling like we're sitting ducks out here, just waiting for the Zerg to roll over us."
"Good man," Marcus slapped him on the shoulder, "Come on, we gotta move." They headed out the southeastern corridor, the same way they had entered the base, though once they exited the safety of the somewhat shaky defense perimeter, they crept, for two marines out in the harshness of the planet, if Zerg came sniffing around, they'd be in trouble.
"Where are the rest of the guys?" Logan asked, keeping his voice low, turning his head as much as he was able to scan nearby rocks and ratty trees for giant bugs lying in wait.
"I think the Sarge sent a couple of them up the road to scout out the area. Maybe trying to locate nearby Zerg bases so we know how to position our forces…Others probably are in the bunkers an' keepin' an eye out for trouble. Something tells me we're gonna get plenty of it down the road. Not to mention…" he was cut off in mid-sentence by the unmistakable sound of gunfire coming from further up the ridge, the inhuman shrieks of aliens in the air.
"Sounds like some shit is goin' down. Come on Stone, let's move!" The two went rushing out, following the din of battle until the crested a bolder pile looking down at the sight.
A group of red suited marines were standing in the center of a field of corpses. The unit was tightly packed, their backs together, facing outward, their gun barrels still smoking. All around them lay at least a dozen Zerg corpses, their bodies still twitching, their vile blood still oozing across the hard earth. Even from his perch, Logan recognized Beranger and his posse, glad some of the more formidable soldiers had been sent as back-up. He and Marcus slid down the rocks, ambling forward to make contact.
"Lieutenant Beranger!" Marcus greeted, offering a salute that Logan mimicked, "Welcome to the shithole! Glad you and your crew made it! With all the gunfire, I figured ya got jumped."
"At ease boys! An' it sure as hell wasn't no picnic gettin' out here. Zerg are all over the place, an' a crap-load of 'em tried to nail us. We'd better get to that crash site soon; else there won't be nothin' left ta rescue. Where's yer boss at?"
"Command center. He's with the captain, probably workin' on a strategy or something."
"Let's hope it's a good one. All right ladies," Beranger barked at his men, "Spread round the place, take up any positions that look lonely, don't pick no fights with Bennett's unit, and kill anything that ain't a human without hesitation."
"Does that count Duke Lieutenant?" Teddy "Sheep-Skin" asked him with a grin.
"Alright, ya got me there! Okay then, shoot anything that ain't human or a rat! Everythang else is fair game! So stay frosty and don't fuck things up. Get goin'!" His group headed out the way Marcus and Logan had come, crossing the perimeter into the semi-repaired base, looking for tasks that needed to be done. Beranger glanced over at the two before waving a hand.
"Well y'all might as well come with me. We'll see what the plan is. Come on, hustle."
"Sir," both men answered, following after the grizzled veteran.
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"Here's the Norad II," Raynor was saying as the three walked into the command room, "And we don't got a lot of time to get over to 'em…" he glanced up, giving a grin with the appearance of the lieutenant. "Alright, back up's here. Things will be easier now." Bennett however, seemed less enthused and stepped out and directly in front of Beranger, glowering.
"Ah well, looky who finally decided to show up? Only two hours late too! What, those Zerg out there too much for ya?"
"Bite me," Beranger growled, shrugging him off and walking past, "We got here an' we're ready to kill shit. So tell me what I missed."
"The area is crawling with Zerg," Raynor was hunched over the latest Com Stat radar reading, pointing out all the blips on the screen, "An' I do mean crawling. We're gonna have a hell of a time busting through them to get to Duke. We got anything remotely close to a plan?"
"Well…" Bennett scowled over the radar, chewing on a cigarette like it was a piece of gum, "the terrain round here ain't pretty, lot of rocky cliffs and shit like that…Seems like there is a single corridor leadin' right into the heart of that mess though…here…" and he pointed to a wide winding canyon, the start of which was close to camp. "Course them Zerg are nestin' right in the way. So best I can figure it we charge on in there and start pushin'em back. Accordin' to the scans, there don't seem ta be that many of 'em right at the start so we'll want ta get movin' quick, lest they start buildin' their numbers up."
"Are you sure? Logan examined the screen himself, looking around the three men, "There looks to be heavier numbers there…more than us anyways." Bennett gave a scowl to Logan, probably for interrupting the strategy meeting.
"Boy, we sent a scoutin' patrol over there an' they saw only a dozen or so of the things millin' about. An' even though the scans detect all lifesigns out there, don't forget that everythin' is livin' when it comes to these Zerg. Their buildin's and even that weird shit growin' under'em. Makes sense the scan's are readin' that too. So shut ya noise hole. An' like I was sayin', we charge in, set fire to the place an' don't stop pushin' till we get to the Norad II."
"Great idea," Beranger ridiculed, scoffing, "Charge in and blow'em up. How come ya ain't a general like our boy Duke out there? Why don't we just frag'em from the air, shit for brains? They can't hit what's out of their reach."
"Kiss ma ass ya old fart," Bennett grunted at him, "Ya think my head's that far up my ass? Air attack is useless; those fuckin' freaks out there got some kinda weird buildin' that tosses these balls of snot up at any aircraft that floats on by. Some sort of half-assed AA system. We go in on the ground, it's all we got right now, an' unless ya got a brighter idea, than that's what we're doin'. So shut yer ugly face an' get your little girls prepped, we'll be headin' out within the hour. Are we gettin' any more back up 'sides y'all?"
"One or two units I think…they were landin' behind us so they're probably here now."
"Good, round'em up. An' you two," he turned to Logan and Marcus, "Round up our boys and meet at the northeastern edge of camp. We got aliens ta fry."
"You got it Sarge. Come on Stone, let's shake a leg."
Despite them being scattered throughout the base, it didn't take much to find the troop. All Marcus and Logan had to do was march over to each bunker and shout out that there was Zerg killing to be had and lo and behold, out stepped a member or two of 507. A unit that was renowned for fighting and killing, it was no surprise that they sought out the bunkers after all the priority tasks were taken care of. Warriors don't have much use with fixing things up or maintaining the wellbeing of others. They were more used to breaking things and causing havoc.
Right beside them was the Troopers who arrived at their leader's call. Soon the two units, as well as some local soldiers and some more of Mensgk's men formed a ragtag platoon of formidable size. Turns out there had been some marines holding the place down ever since the Zerg arrived. Their forces had taken significant loses and their numbers had whittled down to a mere handful. All told there were eight trained marines, plus another six civilians who had been geared up to fight. They were pale and trembling, looking ready to piss and puke at the same time.
"Hold it together," Logan told them comfortingly, "No need to shit your pants kiddies." Bennett came out of the command center, Raynor next to him
"We all here? Good, then let's get to it. Let's go knock on their front door, huh?"
"Hang tight," Beranger interrupted, "I think we got a slight change of plans. I was doin' some scouting of my own an' I noticed that there's another little base of theirs on the other side of the ridge," he pointed to the northwest, "Even smaller than this one. An' the path coils around ta meet up with the main road. Y'all attack the center camp while we creep on around an' fry their little nest, then swing around an' trap'em. We'll hit'em from both sides an' they won't know what the hell ta do."
"Then get to it," Raynor , "we'll keep them occupied with our own little onslaught while you make a mess over there." Beranger nodded before jogging back to his troop and their unit started out. Bennett scowled after him, then turned to Raynor.
"Captain, as much as I'm tickled pink that ya like ta roll with us unlike most dickweed higher ups, I'd think it'd be best if ya hang back here. We can take care of the assholes, but if the base starts gettin' nailed while we're out neckin', then we're in deep shit. I'll leave some boys behind ta help ya out. Gettin' Duke won't mean squat if yer not alive after alls said an' done." Raynor thought on that, contemplating, then nodded.
"That's a point ya got right there. Though I'll sure as hell be envious of you boys. I'll get some more people together to fight if I can. You boys save some Zerg for me to annihilate late on, you hear?"
"Yes sir! Okay troops, move out!" With a slow jog the platoon moved out, following after the squad leaders, who got lucky in riding in a command jeep, coming to and entering the mouth of the shallow canyon, proceeding down it, keeping their eyes open for any attacks. They halted behind a cluster of boulders only a rifle's shot away from their target, Bennett creeping out a little ways, pulling a pair of binoculars out to scan the enemy position ahead.
"This looks like a forward camp," the sergeant chewed on his cigarette, scanning the fleshy buildings down the road, "Lightly defended, few important structures. Probably a minin' operation or somethin'."
"Ya really think these fuckin' nasty things are minin' those crystals Sarge?" Gunner asked, stroking his flamethrowers lovingly, "They're just huge ass bugs, I doubt they got the brains fer that. An' what would these freaks do with it even if they did mine it?"
"Who the fuck knows? Maybe they're minin' the shit ta have sex with. I don't give a good goddamn what their doin' with it."
"Havin' sex with it," Chaz cackled, doubling over, "That's the shit boss!"
"Yeah yeah, shut it ya shaved chimp. All I'm sayin' is this base shouldn't be too tough, but it'll let'em know we're comin', so there might be some heavy resistance later on. So press'em hard right here an' now, take'em out quick an' secure the location before any more of the fuckers show up. So let's take a walk fellas. All y'all rookies, stay close behind and follow our lead. The lot of ya, spread out, form a line. Fire on my signal, then we rush'em."
The troops of marines spread out, forming a living unyielding wall reaching from one side of the ravine to the other, marines and firebats standing shoulder to shoulder and began to move together as one. They stopped outside the perimeter of the Zerg hive, just off the pulsating purple creepy growth on the ground, waiting and anxious to loose Armageddon.
"Al'ight," the sergeant yelled, raising an arm, "let'em have it boys! Rain some whupass down on these ugly sons of bitches!" The soldier's loaded their weapons, training their rifles towards their foes and began to fire.
The storm of bullets came streaking down onto the flesh buildings, puncturing them, loosing spurts of blood, their "wounds" leaking out all over the place. The huge maggots that littered the purple carpet began to sluggishly squirm about, maybe trying to get out of the way, while the others squat creaures began to frantically scramble for the rear of the base, no doubt retreating. The marine force kept advancing, setting every pulsating growth of a structure alight, blasting everything that moved.
"We got'em on the run boys!" Bennett hollered, signaling to continue the forward rush, "Keep pressin' in an' give'em…"
Without warning, all over the battlefield the ground erupted in geysers of dirt and rock, as dark shadows came emerging from the soil, rising up and over and all around the invades. Though the dust, the long jutting bones and mucus-encrusted insect-like plates of Zerg were visible. And even as Bennett was half turned, giving his command to continue the attack, one of the large spine-spewing monstrosities exploded out of the ground not but a meter in front of him. And with a motion that was blurred by raw speed, one of its great scythe arms came whistling down and around.
"SERGEANT!"
Whether it was a warning or a cry of anguish, it was unclear, though regardless, it came too late to really be of consequence, as the blade ruthlessly impaled the oblivious man straight through the chest. Without pause, the beast raised the long scythe of bone, lifting it upwards, the skewered man already bleeding and limp around it, and with a single swipe, his form was split in twain by the second enormous blade.
Everyone stood stock still, as the corpse of the man went spiraling in two different directions, his insides spilling across the ground with a nerve-twisting squelch. And though they were mired in their shock, the aliens did not hesitate; two more of the large spine-shooters rushed up to attack the jeep the crew had rolled in with and the smallest creatures bounding toward the infinity. Finally, after the stupefying silence, someone acted.
"YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!" Daemon shrieked in fury. He lunged forward peppering the ground in front of him with bullets, taking out numerous smaller aliens, until his rifle ran dry. Quick as can be, he snagged a heavy fifty-caliber machine gun from the now mangled jeep and began to charge the demon monster responsible, firing as he ran.
"Daemon!" Marcus screamed after him, even as he was holding rampaging aliens of his own at bay, dozens slithering towards him. But it did no good; Daemon's mind was too filled with red to really hear or even see. And he went barreling towards the offending alien, finger firmly on the trigger. At once, the creature's face began to fleck off, one piece at a time, it letting off a guttural howl as it writhed in pain. A few moments more, its body being pierced and mangled, it loosed a groan before crashing forward, spasming on the bloodstained earth. The murder of Bennett had been avenged, yet Daemon was far from calming down, and he turned to see more Zerg causing havoc on all of the other units.
"I'M GONNA FUCKIN' KILL YOU ALL! DIE YOU NASTY FUCKERS!" And off we went, barreling right into the middle of them spinning in circles, blasting the heavy machine gun, trying his best to kill every Zerg in every direction.
"Daemon no!"
"FUCK YOU!" the enraged man bellowed, "FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKIN' BASTARDS! DIE DIE DIE DIE!"
Even as he screamed and fought like the wildman that he was, up crept another snake-like alien, hissing and gurgling its bizarre warcry, its sights set on the rampaging marine. Daemon was still strafing the little vicious monsters in front of him and never saw it coming. With a shudder, the thing fired a wave of its chest spikes, almost all of which slammed into Daemon's armor, some piercing him clear through. Blood came gushing from his mouth, as he staggered forward, still trying to cough out blistering obscenities. And even as another horde of the rampaging little monstrosities came darting in, even as he was ripped and hacked apart into tiny shreds, he never stopped firing.
Before anyone could mourn his tragic passing, a fresh horde of Zerg came pouring out of the north side of the camp and from out of the canyon further up came the whistling and shrieking cries of more hungry creatures, thirsty for blood, reinforcements inbound.
"FALL BACK!" someone screamed from the rear, "FALL BACK, FOR CHRIST SAKE!" What followed was perhaps the most unorganized retreat the unit had ever performed. It was essentially every man for himself and each soldier broke off fighting randomly, only to go scrambling back the general direction from which they had come, avoiding projectiles and pouncing aliens alike. Logan had been near the frontlines and saw Bennett and Daemon both become victims to the rampaging Zerg, and he felt a chill in his blood watching them be slaughtered. Even more so when the horde before him began to turn their attention towards the marines that were still alive, descending upon them with a brutal savagery.
When the call for withdrawal was sounded, he took them up on the offer, turning with the rest of them and hauling ass out of there. When he had a bit of cushion distance, he pivoted around, firing behind him as he ran, and he must have nailed at least one of the little suckers as he did. A slight victory for him.
He felt immensely better when he caught sight of the outer bunkers of the base and dashing past them he saw the remnants of the attack force he had just been apart of, slumped against the walls of the surrounding buildings, panting. Logan collapsed beside them, breathing deep and taking a moment to calm himself. As he did, several more men joined them, staggering in from the battlezone, anywhere from one to three at a time, many with injuries, ranging from minor to serious. Of the fifty men to leave, twenty-two of them were missing, almost half of them. Though of those lost, two seemed the most influential.
"Shit," Colt was murmuring under his breath as he sat there, blankly staring into space, "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…"
Logan had caught his breath and after looking at the shocked men around him, he stole a wary glance back towards the entrance to the craggy canyon. No doubt the horrors lurking beyond would be creeping out soon to have an encore to their fun. A plan was called for, no question, yet no one else was putting forth any opinions.
"Alright…so…uh…what do we do now?"
"What the fuck are you talkin' about rookie?" Gunner snapped at him with a hateful gleam, "Did you just see what happened back there? Were yer fuckin' eyes open or what?"
Logan could have pointed out that yes, he had been present and his eyes had been wide open during the massacre, but he wasn't exactly sure what that had to do with anything. Even as he was puzzling over the response, several marines came stumbling in from the northwest, their armor bloodied and charred. It was Beranger and his Troopers, now five men short of the normal unit of twelve, looked haggard and his own suit dented and slashed all to hell, though he himself looked alright. He stole a look around, before focusing at Logan, the only marine that wasn't sprawled out in the dirt, physically or emotionally.
"An ambush…those fuckin' freaks laid out an ambush for my crew. Where the hell's Bennett? I'm gonna tear that asshole a new asshole. Charge in…shit…what a dumb fuck…" Logan saw him glaring at him, demanding an answer. He only sighed out hard, before turning an empty yet level stare at Beranger, shaking his head. The irritation in the lieutenant's experienced eyes faded and his face, previously contorted in anger, now dissolved like a clump of melting wax.
"He's dead?" Logan nodded. "Fuck me…"
"I can't believe he got killed," Chaz looked stupefied, "They got the Sarge…They…really got him…"
"Yeah…" Gunner swallowed, "And Daemon too…shit…" The rest of the unit murmured in agreement, their morose attitude was something Logan hadn't seen in them before. Their normal gung-ho demeanor had given way to almost mind-numbing depression and he could hardly tell he was looking at the same bunch of lunatics that he knew them to be.
"Am I…missing something here?" he asked them, glancing from man to man, "What the fuck is wrong with you guy's?"
"What's wrong with us?" Burk stood up, casting a hand back towards the canyon entrance, "Well, let's see shit-for-brains. We just got our asses handed to us back there, we lost the Sarge…and Daemon…to those fucking freaks and you're wondering what's wrong with us?"
"Yeah actually, I am. I know what happened sucks…But what now?"
"There ain't nothin' now," Colt swallowed, "We lost the Sarge…Daemon too…It's over, there ain't nothin' left to do."
"We pack it in," Burk said, perhaps explaining, "We tell Mensgk that if he wants his precious little Duke so bad, he can come get him himself."
Logan could only stare silently at them with a distorted face of astonishment and bewilderment, the only one amongst the men who didn't seem to be wearing a downcast face. Even Beranger and his troop looked ready to attend a graveyard party. He just couldn't believe it; he couldn't wrap his mind around it. He saw the reason, it was pretty obvious after all, but he just couldn't accept it. There just wasn't any way…
"Are you shitting me?" he burst out, looking harshly at all the sullen men, "Are you fucking shitting me? Are really telling me that you…all of you…are really that fucking fragile? Let me get this straight…You guy's are the most fucked up unit of killers, psychos, and all around berserkers in the sector, charging into any situation without even a full understanding of what you're facing. Yet when your commanding officer gets fragged, you start acting like a dog that's lost both his teeth and his balls? Is that really what this is?"
"Fuck you, ya runt!" Colt snarled, "You ain't got no fuckin' idea what it's like ta be in a military unit. An' ya sure as shit ain't got nothin' intelligent ta say 'bout being in the marines either1 Yer a fuckin' noob, ya ain't seen shit yet, so don't ya be dissin' us for actin' like this."
"That's true; you're right about that," Logan agreed, "I don't really know what its like to be in a close-knit unit. And I sure as hell ain't gonna deny that I'm not army material either. But from where I'm sitting, at the current moment, neither are any of you. You'd fucking think you guy's are the rookies around here, not me."
"What kind of fucking logic is that, you Zerg scrotum?" Burk growled.
"You think I'm full of shit? Then answer me this…Me and these other new guy's were sent in to fill the ranks of guy's who got killed, right? Right?!" Nods all around. "So tell me, when those four men got blown to hell, did you start acting like this?" The unit veterans glanced around at each other, "Did Bennett act like this? Did he start pissing and moaning about how luck was shitting on you? Or did he just shrug it off and continue on with the mission?"
"Can't believe he's dead…" Chaz said aloud again. Logan was getting really pissed off in listening to that and felt like strangling someone.
"You can't huh? Well, you'd better start fucking believe it, he is dead, and that ain't gonna change. And unless I'm mistaken, someone's got to take his place. Marcus…you were the second in command…right?" Marcus didn't seem to register the question, staring vacantly out at the stunted landscape. "MARCUS!" Finally, the dazed man looked around and gave his head a slow nod; his normal glossy dark skin had become several shades lighter. "…yeah…"
"Then start fucking acting like it! Jesus Christ. Listen, they killed Bennett and Daemon, but our job ain't done. We still got to get over to that crash site, and we don't have time to be dicking around here. So, you know what we got to do right? Right?" No one answered for a moment.
"What?" Malcolm asked him, being quiet. Logan threw his hands up in exasperation, wondering just how important Bennett had been to the group.
"Oh for Christ sake, do I really need to fucking tell you? Do I gotta spell it out? You guy's have done this dozens…maybe even hundreds of times before I ever showed up so you should fucking know! We're going to roll on through there again and this time, we are going to fry every last one of those motherfucking shithole aliens and piss on their corpses. We're going to send them back to Hell in the most gruesome fashion imaginable. Who's with me?" There wasn't a single favorable answer; no one even acknowledged his rousing speech. The anger that was swelling inside Logan expanded to an even greater intensity at this.
"Fuck you all then," he growl, whirling about and stomping off, aggravated to no end. He could understand that the crew had looked up to Bennett; he had been a really likeable guy, albeit a hard-ass, but he knew what was what. And he had been leading 507 for a while most likely, so a bond had been there between commanding officer and the soldiers. But to just give up so easily…he just hadn't expected such hardass guy's to come apart so simply. He didn't think they'd get choked up by something like that.
He stopped by the northwestern edge of the camp, standing there for a few minutes, breathing the anger out of his system. From where he stood, he could still smell them…the Zerg, their nest around the corner, their putrid mucus odor stinking the whole area out. If they don't get their act together, he said to himself, then we'll be smelling them at close range when they start pouring in here…
"Never thought I'd see that asshole get killed…" The voice sounded right next to him, though Logan was too entrenched in his own thinking to jump. It was Beranger; he was right next to Logan, also staring back towards the Zerg cluster beyond the bend, "Never thought he'd be the one that got himself killed either…" Logan could hardly remember the last time Beranger said anything to him that was shouted or harsh.
"You guy's knew each other pretty well I take it?" The hardened lieutenant nodded.
"We served in the same unit together…years ago during the Guild War. We were still kids like you, an' we fought side by side more times than I remember. War buddies, I guess ya'd say. We we're at least…"
"A bit of a falling out?"
"Somethin' like that. I got promoted an' he didn't. Then I went an' joined the Sons of Korhal, an' he got pissed 'bout it. Probably cause I didn't ask him ta join too. Hard ta say…an' I guess I'll never get the chance again. I'm sure gonna miss arguing with that stupid jackass." He fell quiet, chewing on his lip, contemplating. "The real problem is yer unit. Without Bennett, 507 is…well, it's gonna need someone new ta take command, though it sure as shit won't be the same."
"I know, but hopefully Marcus is ready to take the title and keep that tradition going."
"The dark fella? Heh heh…" he trailed off, chuckling. The sound of laughter sounded foreign to Logan, and he turned a questioning eye towards the older man.
"You know, I may just be a rookie here, but I wasn't aware that this situation warranted anything humorous."
"Well, to be honest kid, despite what the chain of command may have been, I think you just stole the title right out from under him."
"Huh?"
"Don't act dumb boy. They were almost bawlin' in the aftermath an' you were the only one who had any guts to do somethin' beside sit there and sulk with your hand up your ass. The way I saw it, yer the more likely of candidates than the rest of 'em to take command."
"Oh no," Logan shook his head vigorously, perhaps to ward off the implication, "I just stepped up to slap some sense into everyone. Marcus can handle things from here, I got faith in him. Besides, I've been in the unit for only about two weeks. Hell, I've only just seen real combat in the last two weeks. A green rookie stepping up to be the leader of the most savage military unit? I don't think so."
"Maybe not, but times got a way of fixin' things like that an' twistin' the world right on around. Ya get a little experience under yer belt then…who knows? Sometime down the road, ya might get promoted ta general like Dukey-boy."
"An interesting thought, Lieutenant, but somehow I won't hold out much hope of that. I doubt that I'm officer material."
"Oh bullshit son. Ya are definitely smarter than the average grunt out here, no two ways 'bout it. Ya got a knack for sniffin' out ambushes an' comin' up with some cunnin' ass schemes. We need shit like that now."
"You guy's got along fine before without it."
"Times are changin'. It used ta be that simply chargin' the enemies camp with raw determination was enough to win battles. But things are different now. That moronic plan may work against people…people are stupid and scare easily…but it sure as shit ain't gonna work against these fuckin' things. They don't run and they ain't stupid. Strategy might be an asset. You think on that boy…Come on, let's get back and whip our babies back into shape. We got some fuckin' aliens to nuke."
Logan nodded and hiked back to the disconsolate pile of flesh and metal that was the remnants of the infantry attack force.
"Are we feeling better now children?" he asked them, looking over their sulking faces.
"Kiss my ass, douchebag," came from somewhere inside the cluster of marines.
"I see…Look, I guess I just got a little pissed back there…I know you guy's really admired Bennett and everything and you got shocked. Daemon too, he was a good guy. But we can't be sitting here all day with the Zerg right over the horizon, so you guy's need to face the facts here. As great as those two were, they weren't gods…it's not like they were the only people who made up the whole unit, or to make the impossible possible. You guy's are just as tough as you've always been even without them. And I'd think you'd all jump at the opportunity to get even with those alien bastards."
He quit speaking and waited, hoping that thoughts of revenge might spark action from their normally blood-thirsty minds and free them from the gloomy state of hopelessness. No one responded, the marines stared down at the dirt, glancing among one another, and Logan began to feel like he, his unit, the whole camp, and Duke somewhere out there in the infested landscape were fucked, and fucked good. But finally, against all odds it seemed, Marcus pushed himself up, standing, his face pensive and expressionless.
"Listen up boys," Marcus mustered what vigor he could, straightening up and putting the deepest scowl that he had on his dark face, "We may feel lower than shit right now, but Stone here's got a point. So we're gonna do exactly what the man said. Those asswipe motherfuckers just took two of our own…Are ya gonna sit there an' let'em get away with it?"
"Well…" Malcolm answered slowly.
"We sure as hell ain't! We're gonna peel their flaky-ass skin from them an' use'em as sheets for our beds. We'll grind those slimey bodies of theirs up, an' feed'em to the fucking hogs. They won't outlive the day they fuckin' messed with 507, so grab some ammo, we're going back in there! This time, with no fear."
"But Marcus," Colt argued, "We just did that an' we lost two of our best…Hell ol' man Beranger over there lost five of his sissies too."
"Keep laughin' asshole," Beranger growled.
"All I'm sayin' is, we tried it an' we got nowhere. What makes ya think we're gonna do any better this time?"
"Because this time we're not going to charge in like mindless apes driving bulldozers," Logan informed them, "This time, we'll have a better plan than simply "kick their assess."
"Easy enough for you to preach," Gunner shrugged him off, "But the Sarge was the one that came up with our plans…so how do you plan on coming up with somethin'?"
"Well if someone will finally listen to me," Logan grunted, though he wore a somewhat crafty smile, "I might be able to help with that. I'm part of this unit after all, for better or worse it seems, and its time to show you guy's that I have my own skills, and I'm not just the pretty boy. So…do we have any volunteers to go rescue the Norad II and annihilate some seriously ugly Zerg fuckers?"
The silence that gathered was thick indeed, as the remaining marines all sat, brooding and thinking. Finally Burk pushed himself up, hefting his rifle back into his hands, checking his ammunition and slapping a new clip in with a wincing click.
"Let's go fucking kill them…"