The sins of his father

by pvt jim

Things were never easy for the half human-half Sangheili Vilan Kalmare Jones but after his father's murder at the hands of the covenant he was forced to flee his home planet with his mother. Vilan decided to follow in his father's foot steeps and enlist into the UNSC marine corps to become the first Sangheili marine. (rated M for language violence sexual content sequel to Unsung)

10. Fully blooded

Vilan sat on the cold concrete pad of the CTA resting his back against one of the steel support columns, the quiet night air slightly chilling him, as he twirled the small plastic card in his claws. He watched as the rest of his platoon stood dressed in PTs waiting for one of the five pay phones in the CTA to become available. It seemed that winning the platoon vs platoon combat exercise, the obstacle course and being the highest scoring platoon in BRM had finally earned them a 10 minute phone call home. Their first one, with less than a week till graduation, when every other platoon had at least two by then. Vilan didn't tell the platoon but they should've had two as well since everyone had qualified first time go at BMR but then Decker fucked it up with his M&Ms. Vilan sat and watched the rest of the platoon make their calls, a few with moist eyes after hearing a love one's voice after so long. He himself didn't have anyone to call. There was his mother but when they we relocated by the UNSC he had no idea of her address let alone phone number. So he would sit and watch the others be absolutely happy for 10 minutes as he sat and twirled his phone card.

"Mind if I sit here?" Zimmerman asked pointing at the ground next to Vilan.

"Of course not my friend," Vilan said scooting over so they could both rest their backs on the steel beam. Zimmerman sat down next to Vilan and rested his back against the beam as well.

"I would go get in line," Zimmerman said pointing at the line of recruits standing by the phones.

"There is no reason to," Vilan explained. "I do not know my mother's number."

"So what are you going to do with your phone card?" Zimmerman asked eyeing it greedy and then his face flushed in shame. Vilan saw this and his mandibles twisted into a smile as he placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Truthfully I considered giving it to you," Vilan explained. "However since I am the PG now I can not show favoritism. I considered giving it away at random but someone would get two calls and this would be unfair as well. So I decided to just keep it."

"That's probably for the best," Zimmerman agreed.

"May I ask you a personal question?" Vilan asked.

"After what you have shared with me just because I asked you," Zimmerman said. "I would say you have earned your own question or two." Vilan nodded in agreement.

"Very well," Vilan said. "You appear to be rather intelligent."

"Uhm thanks," Zimmerman said a little unsure.

"What I meant is you are more intelligent then say Decker, Stone and myself," Vilan explained. "Yet you are Infantry I wish to know why?"

"Well one it isn't hard to be smarter than Decker, a door knob is smarter than Decker," Zimmerman explained. "Do you remember our first day here, how DI Willy said all the stupid ones are Infantry and the really stupid ones are the ones that scored high enough on the enlistment exam and then still chose Infantry?"

"I do recall this," Vilan said with a smile. "I also recall you being coated in mud." Zimmerman sighed heavily at the memory.

"We that's me: a really stupid one," Zimmerman explained. "After seeing my exam scores my recruiter was really pushing for me to join the Navy instead. He said I could be an officer if I would attend college courses while in training."

"Like Hook?" Vilan asked.

"Not quite," Zimmerman explained. "Naval officers don't go to basic training like this one. All their training is done at an academy especially for officers. I told him I didn't want to be a Navy officer. He then explained that once I do become a Navy officer though I could become part of the ONI. That was the last thing I wanted to be, a goddamn spook so I looked at the list of jobs. Saw the shortest training job, one that still officered a 10,000 enlistment bonus: Infantry. I then told him I didn't want to be behind a desk I wanted to be on the front line killing shit so I told him I wanted to be a Marine Infantrymen. Boy did that piss him off but it was my choice and I scored high enough to get it."

"So you choose to become an Infantrymen just to upset your recruiter?" Vilan asked.

"Wow your really make me seem like an idiot when you say it like that," Zimmerman said rubbing the back of his head. "But I really did mean what I said how I wanted to kill shit. I mean when it's all said and done what am I going to tell my future kids that I served the war behind a desk writing reports or that I was in the shit getting shot at as well as shooting back. Which sounds more exciting to you?"

"If you fall in battle before you have any offspring?" Vilan asked.

"Goddamn, you're just pissing all in my cheerios," Zimmerman said with a chuckle. "I think you are smarter than me. Which bring me to my question why did you choose Infantry?"

"It was the only thing I was able to become after my enlistment exam," Vilan explained breaking eye contact.

"Oh really?" Zimmerman asked his face flushing a little again. Vilan looked at Zimmerman out of the corner of his eye and thought about telling him the truth. That he was only eight, fully grown by his species standards, but way to young for enlistment for the UNSC. The only reason that he was able to enlist at all was due to Admiral McKnight forging his documents. Vilan opened his mouth to say something when Willy's booming voice echoed through the CTA.

"Alright!" Willy shouted to be heard not angry. "Those of you that have finished your calls get up to the bay and get into your bunks! Those of you that have to finish your calls will stay down here and then once they are done you will immediately get into your bunks and go to sleep! Understood!?"

"YES SIR!" The ones not on the phones shouted.

"Let's go get some sleep buddy," Zimmerman said getting to his feet. "We have a fun day tomorrow, we get to play with mortars."

"Very well," Vilan said getting to his feet as well. The two walked up to the bay and got into their bunks and fell asleep shortly afterwards. The next day the entire company was sitting in the indirect fire range bleachers as the range sergeant gave his brief on mortars.

"So in conclusion you're just going to hang and then fire," The sergeant explained demonstrating on a 40mm mortar and dummy round. "Remember the degrees on the bottom are for direction the ones on the elevation knob are for range. Alright break down in to platoons and head to your stations. Dismissed!" There was only one mortar range firing line and the entire company couldn't stay busy with just that. So there were four stations: one was the mortar firing, another was learning about the different kind of mortar rounds, the third was how to call for mortar support. The last one was on a range opposite of the mortar range here they went over the M41 multipurpose rocket launcher operation and firing, this was where fourth platoon found themselves at first.

"Alright," The corporal giving the lesson said. "Does everyone have one?" He was referring to the practice launchers that worked and did everything like the real thing but fire a rocket. All the recruits nodded yes as they held them in their arms unsure of what to do.

"Ok who here has seen the vids from the last war showing an infantry grunt just shouldering and firing one of these?" He asked patting his own practice launcher. A lot of hands went up. "Well I hate to break to you but there are eight steps you have to perform so you can fire this weapon system. The first thing you're going to do is remove this small pin in the back of the launcher near the exhaust ends of the tubes. This allows you to pull out the black knob the pin was inside of. When you do you'll expose a red colored section of said knob. If you read the little diagram to the left you'll see that black is unarmed and red is armed. Everyone following me so far?" Everyone nodded yes as they removed the pins and pulled the knobs of their own launchers.

"Outstanding," The corporal said pleased. "Pulling that knob you have just activated the battery pack that powers the optical sight and firing circuit. Now that the sight has power you're going to flip it on. The switch is located on the side of the sight and when you flip it on a red light will glow near the eye piece letting you know it's turned on. If you've been keeping count that's three the fourth step is to verify the sight is working by looking through it and checking for the green icon in the upper right corner of the screen. Once the sight has been checked you have to charge the weapon by moving the firing lever on top of the weapon's tubes to the left, back, forward and to the right again. Everyone still tracking?" More nods as the recruits charged their weapons.

"Outstanding we'll make killers out of you yet," The corporal continued his lesson. "With the weapon charged you look back through the sight and next to the green icon there should be a flashing red word. It will be armed. The sixth step is to depress the trigger on the forward handgrip. After you do, and remain holding it, and then look back through the sight the flashing armed will be solid now. The next thing you do if flip off the trigger safety on the second trigger on the rear handgrip. The eighth and final step is after you line up your target is to pull the second trigger, finally firing your rocket. Now remember you have to keep depressing the front trigger in order to fire the rocket. You can fire the second rocket after you release the rear trigger and depress it again once the tubes have exchanged positions. Now all these arming systems are on the rocket tubes themselves meaning you have to do this every time you reload, all but the safety on the second trigger. Remember if you forget any of these steps they are written on top of the launcher. Any question?" The recruits shook their heads.

"I knew I liked this group," The corporal said with a smile. "If for any reason you decide not to fire your rocket after all that, the first thing you're going to do it release that forward trigger and put the safety back on then push the knob back in to turn the battery off. Now that you know how to arm and fire a rocket you're going to need to know how to aim it. Now these newest models only home in on air craft, to do that you look through the sight and aim at your target till it turns red. You're going to keep tracking your target till you hear a tone and yellow triangles appear in the sight. Once you hear the tone and see that, let your rocket fly and the bastard is going to get a 102mm high explosive shaped charge up his ass. Aiming at ground targets is just like aiming your rifles expect the drop rate for a rocket is roughly one meter for every thousand meters and there is no front and rear sight just the one. Any question?" Here Vilan raised his hand. "Yes you Private...Jones."

"Sir performing all these steps in battle could easily get a marine killed couldn't they?" Vilan asked.

"They easily could," The corporal said with a smile. "That's why, now you are never ever supposed to do this but, most marines before heading out on a mission prepare everything before hand and then push the knob back in to turn the battery off and then flip the safety back on. So all they need to do is turn the battery back on and flip the safety off. Now all that's left of this lesson is to demonstrate a good firing position. Now you're a fool if you try to fire this standing up, you can but the only position you have to stand in so you aren't knocked on your ass is very uncomfortable. If you insist on doing it though, the first thing you're going to do is stand square to your target. You're going to spread your legs shoulder width apart and then turn your right foot to the side completely while turning your left foot to the left slightly. It's important to keep your shoulder's square to the target. Now bend your knees slightly and really lean into the launcher." The recruits of fourth platoon did this and found it extremely uncomfortable and very awkward like the corporal had said.

"Aright the best position to fire from is from the kneeling position," The corporal said. "It's also the easiest to get into its just like with your rifles expect you're going to lean into it more and you can't sit on your foot. Aim and then let fly, any question?" No one raised their hands. "Alright just one more thing to go over. Just before you fire you're going to look to your left and right as well as behind you to make sure no one is around you. Then you will shout, I say again shout: back blast area clear just before you fire. Got it?"

"YES SIR!" Came the shouted reply.

"I like this group," The corporal said. "Everyone find a spot on the range." The rest of the time was spent practicing arming the launcher and then firing a 9mm tracer round from the launchers at tank husks. Shouts of back blast area clear were heard up and down the line just before the pop of a tracer being fired. After each recruit had fired several times from both the kneeling and standing position they handed the launchers back to the corporal before they moved onto the next station and class. The platoon pretended to be interested as they learned about the different kinds of mortar rounds: HE, AP, gas, smoke, and illumination. They paid closer attention to using radios to call for fire missions. They found this to be more entertaining and useful knowledge. After that the company breaked for a lunch of more MREs then fourth platoon finally made it to the mortar range where they broke off into pairs. When a mortar pit became available a new pair would jump in and receive their ammo from the pit NCO. Vilan and Zimmerman made sure they were together as they jumped in a pit that was headed up by none other than First Sergeant Peterson himself.

"Alright who's up first?" Peterson asked.

"I'll go first sir," Zimmerman said. Peterson handed Zimmerman a box of five 40mm practice mortar rounds. He then gave Vilan a pair of field glasses as he pressed his own up to his eyes and stared down range.

"Alright this is how this is going to work: I'll call out your target," Peterson explained. "The firer will see it and then try to sight it in and hit it themselves. If they miss the spotter will sight them in, for if you were really firing these in the field you wouldn't be able to see your target. Understood?"

"Yes sir!" Vilan and Zimmerman shouted in unison.

"Outstanding," Peterson said. "Your first target is a structure at your 12 o'clock 300 meters down range." Zimmerman and Vilan both peered down range and saw a simple wooden building covered in unpainted plywood. There were orange patches on and all around it. Zimmerman knelt and adjusted the mortar, looked up at the target and then tweaked the mortar a little more. That complete he picked up a round from the box and placed it half way into the tube but still held onto it, half still out of the tube: hanging it. He looked up at Vilan who was staring at the target with the glasses, who found them to be a hindrance so he lowered them and used his naked eyes.

"Fire!" Vilan said. Zimmerman let go of the round allowing it to fall down the tube as he leaned back, ducked his head and covered his ears. Two seconds later the mortar round shot back out of the tube with a loud thump. Vilan tracked it through the sky and watched as it whistled back to the ground hitting behind and to the right of the building a orange clouded of chalk exploding as the practice round hit. "Adjust fire, adjust fire!" Vilan said still not using the field glasses. "Decrease elevation two degrees move one degree to the right." Zimmerman made the adjustment to the mortar and picked up a second round. He then hung the second round in the tube and looked back up and Vilan.

"Ready," Zimmerman said.

"Fire," Vilan ordered. Zimmerman dropped the second round down the tube and ducked his head again. A second later the round was launched from the tube and this time it hit the top of the building covering the roof in orange chalk.

"Confirmed hit," Peterson said casting a sideways glance at Vilan since he had just sighted Zimmerman in without using the field glasses. "Next target a vehicle at you 2 o'clock 575 meters down range." Vilan and Zimmerman both spotted the Warthog husk covered in old and fresh orange chalk. Zimmerman adjusted the mortar again and hung the next round and waited on Vilan. Vilan told him to fire and he dropped the round in, a second later it shot back out and hit to the left and short of the target.

"Adjust fire, adjust fire," Vilan ordered peering at the target still without the field glasses. "Increase elevation seven degrees, adjust four degrees to the right." Zimmerman adjusted and hung his fourth round as he looked up at Vilan. "Fire!" The round hit right on target covering the husk in more chalk.

"Confirmed hit," Peterson said trying to keep the amazement out of his voice as he had just watch someone sight in a target at 575 meters with just their bare eyes. "Next target a structure at your 11 o'clock 1000 meters." This was the max range of the 40 mm mortar. Zimmerman peered at the target for a second longer and made adjustments to the mortar.

"Phst," Vilan whispered out of the side of his mouth causing Zimmerman to look at him before he picked up his last round. "Increase elevation four more degrees and to the left five more degrees." Vilan said in a whisper after he eyed the target long enough. Peterson had heard him but was going to let it slide one because it was Zimmerman's last round and two he was curious to see how good this Elite was. Zimmerman made the adjustments and hung his fifth and final round.

"Fire," Vilan said. Zimmerman dropped the round in and after it shot back out he looked up to see if it hit. All three of them did the whistling filling the air as it arched towards its target. It hit the middle of the roof of the second plywood building giving it a dusting of orange chalk.

"Confirmed hit," Peterson said truly impressed. "Switch." He ordered as he handed Vilan a box of five shells after he handed Zimmerman the field glasses. Zimmerman never got a chance to sight him in however as after Peterson called out the target Vilan would look at it for a second and then adjust the mortar. He would then hit it on his first attempt even the targets at a 1000 meters. Peterson even cheated and gave him a target at 1100 meters which was outside of the mortar's range. Vilan just nodded, aimed and waited for just a second longer as a light breeze blew down range before he fired and still hit it.

"Goddamn," Peterson said truly impressed as Vilan stood back up. "You would have made an outstanding mortar-men Private Jones."

"Thank you sir," Vilan said. The two joined the rest of the platoon at the bleachers as a new pair took their place in the pit they had just freed up. Once fourth platoon had finished with the mortars the company loaded back onto the buses and were taken back to the barracks. This was a huge moment for Charlie Company since that was a range they were making up. That was the last thing they had to complete now they were just biding their time till graduation, which was only in a few more days. The platoons were sent back to their bays where they started to clean their TA-50 gear to turn back in. All but Vilan since he was keeping his for it was custom made just for him. He settled for cleaning his rifle which they would also be turning in soon as well. Zimmerman and Vilan found themselves sitting on the floor next to each other backs against a wall locker. Vilan used a brushed tipped rod to swap the inside of his rifle's barrel as Zimmerman used a bush and water to scrub the dirt off his chest plate. Zimmerman took a deep breath in just before he spoke.

"It been nice knowing you buddy," Zimmerman said turning to look at Vilan. "I just want you to know you're the first real friend I've had in a long, long time. Hopeful our paths will cross again."

"What do you speak of?" Vilan demanded looked Zimmerman in the eyes.

"Well," Zimmerman said clearing his throat his eyes stinging a little bit as he thought about what he was about to tell Vilan. "As you know were getting down to it. We'll soon be leaving this hell hole, all the non-infantry recruits will head off to finish their training. While us infantry grunts will get our orders cut and sent off to an infantry company."

"And?" Vilan demanded seeming a little hurt.

"Well they're not just going to put a whole bunch of raw recruits into the same company," Zimmerman explained finding it harder and harder to look Vilan in the eye. "The same battalion maybe and maybe a few in the same company but defiantly not in the same platoon. So after gradation we'll probably not see each other again unless we are deployed together."

"Oh," Vilan said dropping his gaze to the floor as his voice took on a sad tone. "Then I hope we meet victorious on the field of battle."

"Agreed," Zimmerman said with a smile. Vilan looked back up and the two locked eyes for a long while before they turned their attention back to what they were cleaning. They stayed in silence as each didn't know what to say to the other. They had been through so much in the past 11 weeks and had become like brothers, to suddenly realize they might never see each other again was unthinkable.

"Alright privates gather around!" Willy shouted as he entered the bay interrupting the two's awkward silence. They platoon quickly formed a semicircle around the DI holding a stack of papers in his hand. Willy shoved them up to his nose and inhaled deep through it. "Ah smell those fresh cut orders." This got mummers of excitement from the infantry recruits. "That's right I hold in my hand your tickets out of the this shit hole." He then held them up to his face so he could read them. "Private Stone!"

"Here sir!" Stone shouted. "Moving sir!" Stone ran up and stood in front of Willy.

"343rd Infantry Battalion," Willy announced as he handed the sheet over to Stone who seized it quickly and read it to make sure he wasn't lying. Stone quickly walked away.

"Private Thompson!" Willy shouted reading the next name.

"Here sir! Moving sir!" He shouted running to stand in front of Willy.

"343rd Infantry Battalion," Willy said handing him his orders. That's how it went each infantrymen getting assigned a battalion most going to 343rd some going to the 546th then he got to Vilan.

"Private Jones!" Willy called out reading for one of the few remaining papers.

"Here sir! Moving sir!" Vilan said running and standing in front of Willy the DI forced to look up at him.

"73rd Ranger Regiment," Willy announced a bit of pride entering his voice. This got more mummers from the platoon they had all heard about the marine rangers it was the closest thing a marine could get to spec ops without becoming a ODST. It was even debated that the rangers were better, but these kind of debates raged in every branch. Vilan accepted his orders knowing there was something different about them but not knowing what. Willy read off a few more names and then he got to the last sheet.

"Private Zimmerman!" Willy shouted reading the last name.

"Here sir! Moving sir!" Zimmerman ran up to Willy casting a sad glance over at Vilan, who had been encircled by most of the platoon to congratulate him.

"You two have become close?" Willy asked in a low voice.

"Yes sir," Zimmerman admitted. "He's the brother I never had."

"I hope you're right because your brotherly bound will defiantly be tested," Willy said just before he shouted. "73rd Ranger Regiment!" He handed the orders to Zimmerman who looked at them mouth agape. "Make sure to watch each other's backs, you're going to be in the same squad I saw to it." Willy said in a low voice again.

"Thank you sir," Zimmerman stammered.

"DON'T THANK ME THANK YOUR WHORE ASS MOTHER AND YOUR RECRUITER!" Zimmerman quickly backed away and was also encircled by the platoon as he tried to fight his way over to Vilan. The two found themselves standing in front of each other with the rest of the platoon circled around them. They stood looking at each other clutching their orders Vilan was the one that spoke first.

"At least we are in the same regiment," Vilan said.

"We're in the same squad," Zimmerman said unable to hide his happiness. "DI Willy just told me." The two just looked at each other for a second more, it was Vilan who made the first move again. He took a step closer and picked Zimmerman up into an embrace, Zimmerman was actually lifted off the ground. A moment later Vilan set him back down and the platoon clapped and patted them on the back two of them had just become rangers!

"Alright!" Will shouted causing their attention to snap back to him. "All those of you leaving will get a week of leave to spend however you like. All those but the two new rangers you will report immediately to your next duty station, the rest immediately after graduation day will go to your secondary training site." With that Willy left the bay leaving the platoon to congratulate Zimmerman and Vilan again. Later that night the platoon slept soundly in their bunks, none more so then Vilan and Zimmerman. That was until Bunny walked into the bay snapping his fingers in a slow steady rhythm. The recruits on fireguard quickly go to their feet.

"Wake the platoon," Bunny ordered in a whisper. The two recruits hurried to wake the platoon up. Once they were all up and standing toe to line Bunny spoke addressing them all. "Get dressed in your uniforms and be formed up in the CTA in 10 minutes." He ordered just before he walked out of the bay. Vilan looked at his watch, it was 1:30 in the morning, before he snapped to and hurried to get dressed. Eight minutes later the entire fourth platoon was formed up in the CTA dressed in uniform shivering in the chilled night air. Bunny then marched them into the woods directly across from the barracks, the recruits could see a glowing in the distance. As they got closer they could tell it was bonfire in the middle of a clearing. Bunny marched them into the clearing and had then face the fire the pleasant heat warming their numb skin and cold bones. There were two other masked men there as well their faces hidden by balaclavas, both had the uniform of a UNSC marine and rank of staff sergeant.

"Good evening marines," Bunny said still whispering as he always did. This caused the platoon to perk up because he hadn't called them assholes, dumbasses, limp dicks or even privates he had called them marines. "That's right you have reached the point in your training that you are no longer civilians but marines the best the UNSC has to offer. You are now part of the largest brotherhood in the universe the UNSC Marine Corps and I am proud to call each and every one of you marines. Most of you will see combat and some of you will die, thus is the way of a marine, but you will not be forgotten. There is no such thing as a former marine living or dead and you will always be remembered by your brothers." Here Bunny paused as he moved along the formation.

"Some of you will be tested by combat very soon," Bunny explained. "Most of you will never see each other again so hang on to your memories the good and the bad for they may be all you have left of them. We have a tradition in this platoon: baptism of blood." Here one of the masked men handed Bunny a small bowel. "As long as there has been a marine corps we have shed our blood for others but we have also forced the enemy to shed his blood as well and it is in that blood we shall anoint you in tonight." Bunny then walked up to the first rank, stood in front of the first marine(Private Hook), dipped his thumb in the bowel and pulled it back up a blue paste on it. He then drew blue lines on each of Hook's cheeks and then two more on his chin giving his face a war painted look. Bunny then moved to the next marine in line as the other masked men did the same to the second and third ranks. The marines of fourth platoon chests swelled with pride as each one was marked with the blue blood. Once every marine had been marked, Vilan had lines drawn along his mandibles and forehead instead, Bunny returned to the front of the formation.

"Remember your brothers and they will remember you," Bunny said somberly. "Fall out head back to the bay." The platoon fell out and headed back to the bay their faces covered in blue 'blood' and their steps light. For they had done something that most had thought impossible after their first night with Drill Instructor Willy that had become marines.