Chapter 41: We All Have a Past

Robles

Karla slowly moved down the dark, alert and aware of every moving shadow and shape. Tarin and Williams were tucked in close behind her, keeping an eye on the flanks and rear. Suddenly, Karla raised her fist in the air to signal a stop.

She found blood. Lots of it.

To say that a battle took place here was a great injustice to what had actually taken place here. Blood was spattered all over the walls and floor, carbon scoring from a potent energy weapon, and mangled lump of burnt flesh lying there like a pile of compost. Holy was definitely here.

"Williams, Richards, see anything?"

Both Marines shook their heads.

Karla was about to move on when she heard a faint clatter of a trash can being knocked over. She looked up and saw that Tarin and Williams had heard it as well. She moved cautiously toward the source of the noise, and was horrified to see Holy's battered and bruised form.

"K-K…" Holy tried to utter something, but Karla only heard it as the incoherent babble of the dying. He tried to get up, but lacked the energy to even twitch a finger.

"Holy…" Karla was completely lost for words, and the only thing she could think of doing was kneeling down and embracing Holy's limp head. She whispered some soothing words into his helmet, words that she had always used whenever Sam was scared or hurt. Tarin and Williams were too far away to hear what she said, however.

"Jesus, what the hell happened?" Williams whispered to Tarin.

"I don't know. Most of the wounds are scratches and bruises, things I would expect from a zombie attack, but those shouldn't have killed him. No, I think those are gunshot wounds in his back."

"Shit man, I didn't know zombies could use guns…"

"They can't." Tarin's eyes narrowed. "Those holes look like they were made from a low caliber pistol, probably an M6D."

"You don't think a Marine could have shot him?"

Tarin shrugged. "It's a possibility. Haven't you been listening to the barracks talk? There are quite a few Marines out there, even in our own division, who think what Holy is, what he represents, is bred in the bone, and nothing can change that. I'm not surprised that somebody would take the opportunity to shoot him in the back."

"Why not?"

"Because." Tarin sighed, suddenly looking decades older. "I probably would have shot him myself."

Meanwhile, Karla was still with Holy, watching over his broken form.

"I-I couldn't stop it…" Holy coughed out blood. "I failed my duty."

"Don't say that." Karla whispered in his ear. "You've done your best, and as an officer and a friend, I could never ask for more."

Holy smiled and handed Karla a strange, alien object with a trembling, bloodstained hand. It took her a few seconds to catch on, and she slowly took it from his hand.

"I can't take this." She said. "It's your plasma sword."

"I am confident that you will find a good use for it." Holy twitched in pain. "Take it and use it to finish what I could not."

Elsewhere

"How sad, he came so close to success."

"It was not to be. He served his purpose, however."

"How can you be so cruel? He's a living being like you and me. Don't treat him like a chess piece!"

"My apologies, but I have been doing this longer than you have been alive. I know how to handle it."

"How could you save the twins, yet leave him to die?"

"I've already interfered too much. I cannot afford to destroy the laws the Elders set even further."

"You can at least let me take care of this lost soul."

"I can allow that."

"Rest, poor soldier, rest. Your fight is over."

Robles

Holy could feel it, something small and warm worming into his very being, beckoning for him to let go and come to it. Try as he might, Holy could not fight off the temptation forever. He managed to gather up the strength to look at Karla one last time.

He was dazzled at what he saw.

It was no longer the same Karla he had been with for the past few days. She bathed with bright, golden light and her pale white skin, golden blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes dazzled him to no end. He nearly missed the angelic wings growing out of her back as well. His mind told him that it was probably a hallucination brought on by blood loss, but he didn't care. He was transfixed by those eyes, blue as a thousand seas, and that golden light, bright as a thousand suns. He could actually feel himself weep at the sight of it.

The angelic figure reached out a hand, as if beckoning him to follow. Holy hesitated for a second, and raised his hand to hold hers.

Karla winced in surprise as Holy suddenly grabbed her hand in a seemingly unbreakable grip. She fought back tears of pain as the Elite's powerful hand nearly crushed hers, but just as quickly as it started, the grip loosened and Holy's hand fell limp. She looked down and saw Holy staring at her, tears staining his helmet, and what she perceived as a smile on his face.

Karla didn't know how long she sat there, staring at the dead Elite, but there was something surreal about all of this. Why did his death hit her so hard? Why did it feel so familiar? She realized that she had broken her promise never to feel sorry about the death of a comrade again.

Strangely though, she had a feeling Holy would be back again.

Marine Convoy

"So," Leo leaned back in his seat and sighed. "What'd you do to her? Knock her up while she was asleep or something?"

"Nah," Paccone shook his head, "Back then, I didn't even have to ask. Besides, it was combat related."

"Feel like talking about it?"

Paccone frowned. "What are you, my personal shrink? Besides it's a long story."

"Apparently, we've got plenty of time to burn." Leo looked out to the street, unsure why Karla and the others hadn't come back yet.

"Well…"

Sera Gamma

2 years ago

Second Lieutenant Karla Wellings hopped out of the landing Pelican and assessed the battle zone she had just landed in. She was the second in command for the 3rd platoon of H Company, of the 108th Marine Regiment. Karla sighed. Second Lieutenants really had no real command. The primary reason they were there was to take the place of the main platoon leader in case he got shot or incapacitated. However, chances were that if the first lieutenant got himself in a situation to get killed, the second would be sure to follow since most platoon leaders insisted that their seconds stay close to him. Karla suspected that they were afraid of seconds showing initiative and acting behind their backs.

As she moved to join her unit, Karla felt a very strong hand wrap itself around her should and yank her behind a pile of empty ammo crates.

"Hey there, pretty." Paccone smiled, locking Karla in a hug.

"You rogue!" Karla sniggered, letting his arms snake lower down her back. "You know, if someone catches us making out here, it'll be pretty bad for unit morale."

"You're damn right it will. Think of all those guys who'll lose their bets on what they think I do in my spare time." Paccone rolled his eyes.

"Spare time?" Karla's lips twisted into a devious grin. "You seem to have a lot of it whenever I'm around."

"There's never enough of those Covvie bastards out there to give me any decent trouble."

Sergeant Ronald Paccone led 3rd platoon's 1st squad. The men under his command were some of the most experienced and dedicated soldiers you could find in the Marine Corps. He and Karla both caught each other's eye when Karla was first transferred into the 108th, and they both carried on this private relationship ever since.

"Lieutenant Wellings!" A voice in the distance cried out, "Get your ass out and up here NOW!"

"Shit." Karla muttered under breath. "Gotta go, Ron. Duty calls."

"Wait." Paccone held onto Karla's shoulder and pulled her back towards him. "One for the road."

Smiling, Karla brought her lips up to Paccone's and locked them into a passionate kiss that seemed to last for centuries.

"I will NOT repeat this again, Wellings! Stop fucking around and get up here!"

Karla sighed and broke off the kiss. " Time to go." She waved to Paccone and ran off to meet her platoon leader.

Lieutenant Charles Fisk was probably one of the least respected officers in H Company. Though he was a tough-as-nails Marine, many of the soldiers under his command were left wondering how he managed to pass officer training. He believed that good leadership meant being very, very loud, and seldom did he have any tactical prowess on the battlefield. There was one instance where he ordered his platoon, which was under cover and in a superior position, to charge a heavily fortified Covenant position. The move would have slaughtered the entire platoon if a flight of a hunter-killer pack of Longswords hadn't spotted the fight and strafed the Covenant. The conditions were so bad, many of the soldiers in H Company frequently made bets on who would shoot him first. Of course, in usual officer fashion, Fisk remained completely oblivious to the morale of his own unit.

When Karla finally reached him, she saw that he had organized all of the platoon squad leaders with him. Obviously, Paccone wasn't there. Paccone's second, Sergeant Grant, came up and asked, "Any idea where Sergeant Paccone his?"

"I have no idea." Karla coolly answered.

Seconds later, Paccone appeared and took his place next to Sergeant Grant. He jokingly nodded to Fisk, who was glaring at him.

"All right." Fisk said, shuffling through some documents, "As you know, Sera Gamma is a thickly forested planet. Because of all this tree cover, it makes it tough for ONI to get any decent sat-photos of enemy movements."

Fisk took out a map and pointed to several circled areas on it. "We've been tasked to scout out this sector of the forest. We're to determine the Covenant MLR (main line of resistance), as well as their force numbers and disposition. The entire platoon is being mobilized for this patrol, so I want all squad leaders to prep their men. Any questions?"

Immediately, all four squad leaders raised their hands.

"Where's our fallback point in case we run into the Covenant?"

"Do we have any contingencies in case our squads get separated?"

"Do we have any support available for us during this op?"

Fisk, apparently confused and irritated at the questions, waved off his squad leaders and said, "Refer all tactical questions to Lieutenant Wellings here. I have to go and submit these reports to Company HQ."

Karla sighed in disgust. Fisk always shunted all of the tactical problems of every op on her before every mission. Though she would rather hammer out the details herself rather than let an idiot like Fisk do it, she hated the fact how he never acknowledged her or her work.

"Okay, here's how it goes. First and Second squads act as the spearhead and will lead the patrol in. Third squad holds position at rally point Alpha. That's all our fallback position, in case you didn't know." Karla continue don as the squad leaders sniggered at the joke. "Fourth squad follows up with First and Second. They'll be support and reserve. If any of the squads lose contact with one another, regroup at rally point Beta, here. Also, in the case of support, the 2nd Armored is on our left flank, but don't expect much help from them. We also have the authority to call in Longsword strikes. It'll take about five minutes for them to reach us on maximum burn, so only call them if you really, really need it. Everybody got it?"

The squad leaders nodded.

"Good." Karla checked her watch. "Get your squads briefed and prepped. I expect to see you here in two hours."

Three Hours Later

Trudging carefully through the forest, 3rd Platoon finally made it to rally point Alpha, their first checkpoint. So far, there were no signs of any Covenant.

"All right." Karla whispered, "Third squad stays here."

"Yes ma'am."

"Listen to me." Karla gave a hard stare to Paccone, "It's very important that you STAY in this position. I know you and your tendency to disobey orders and wander, but I need you to stay and hold Alpha. I have a very bad feeling about this patrol, and I want somebody I can trust to watch my back."

"You've got my word." Paccone smiled.

"You promise?" Karla asked. "I' m serious, don't fuck around with this."

"I promise." Paccone put a reassuring hand on Karla's shoulder. "Just remember to kill a few of those Covvies for me."

Karla softened her stare, kissed Paccone lightly on the cheek, and ran off to join the rest of the platoon.

"Okay, you heard the lady." Paccone said, turning to his men. "Find some cover and get asses comfortable. We're going to be here for a while."

Bluewater Woods

Karla kept her position behind Lt. Fisk, wary of anything that could be a potential threat. She and Fisk were moving with First Squad, commanded by Sgt. Tyler McKinnon. True to his name, the easygoing Irish sergeant had flame-red hair and an accent only an AI could properly decode. Second Squad, led by the pessimistic Sgt. Robert Phain kept pace with them on their right. Finally, Fourth Squad with the trigger happy Sgt. Simon Creely took up the rear in support.

Seeing that she was well covered, Karla took the chance to relax and lower her guard a little. Even though she was on an alien planet, Karla felt strangely at home. These forests reminded her about the vast, unexplored virgin woods of Aeola. Karla felt relaxed, because she knew the forest, how it worked, how to find a way through it. After all, a forest was nothing more than a bunch of trees.

The rest of the platoon, however, didn't share Karla's relaxed attitude. Most of them were born and raised on more urban planets, like Reach, or planets that didn't have many natural forests, like Harvest. They perceived every tree as potential cover for any enemy, every lump of random dirt a booby trap. Even the sheer quiet unnerved them, though Karla knew that it was only because all of the loose branches and leaves absorbed sound. There could be a Covenant army just a few hundred feet away and they would never hear it coming.

Rally Point Alpha

"Grant, do you see something?"

"See what, sir?" Grant cocked his head curiously at Paccone.

"Over there." Paccone pointed and looked through his binoculars. "I can see some kind of movement, just a klick or two from here."

"One of our patrols?"

"No." Paccone shook his head. "It's moving toward our line."

"Sir," Grant asked, "What are you saying-"

"We're moving out. Get the rest of third squad and tell them to move."

"But sir, what about-"

"The rest of the platoon can handle themselves." Paccone grinned, "Besides, we can't just let those Covvies reach our door without a proper welcome."

Bluewater Woods

Karla winced as her helmet radio suddenly blasted her ear with noise.

"Contact! Contact!" Yelled Sgt. Phain's frantic voice. "Covvies all over us!"

"Sgt!" Fisk yelled in his radio, "What is your condition?"

"Th- they're everywhere, sir! We need-" There was a loud whine of plasma fire and a human scream. "Oh my god, oh my god!"

Phain was now yelling orders at his squad, unaware that he forgot to cut the radio link.

"Wilson! Peterson! Pull it back a little and keep up the covering fire! Matts! Get that damn .30 cal working before they-"

There was more screaming, and the chatter of gunfire and the whine of plasma filled the radio again, and Karla could make out Elite battle cries in the background. She turned to Fisk.

"Sir?"

"We move in to assist, now!"

Karl didn't need Fisk to tell her that. She was already sprinting to Second Squad's position when she saw something that made her nearly trip over.

They didn't run into the Covenant line, they ran into an entire Covenant assault force. Hundreds of Elites and Jackals filed through the forest, led by thousands of Grunts. Karla swore that she could even see several Hunter pairs in the mix.

Below, she could see the remnants of Phain's squad frantically trying to hold the tide of alien troops back. The ground was already littered with Covenant and human dead, and it looked as if the resolve of the surviving Marines was about to break.

"All units! Fire!" Fisk yelled.

Immediately, the Marines of First Squad unloaded all of their firepower into the Covenant line. The fusillade was so quick an intense, it actually drove the surprised Covenant attackers back long enough for Second Squad to pull back. Karla looked and saw Phani and two of his Marines acting as a rear guard. One of the Marines took several plasma bolts in the chest and tumbled over. Phain himself was yelling something incoherent at the top of his lungs and firing his pistol at the mob of Covenant. However, as he was firing, an Elite wielding a plasma sword charged forward and all but cut Phain's left hand off.

Not even phased, Phain dropped his pistol, picked up a discarded .30 cal ammo can, and started bludgeoning the Elite to death with the makeshift weapon. Karla pressed forward, firing her assault rifle at full auto, and grabbed Phain, literally dragging him back to safety.

Phain looked at the stump of his left wrist glumly. The heat from the plasma sword cauterized the wound, so there was no bleeding.

"They cut off my hand."

"Well, I'm sure the medics can flash you a new one." Karla grunted as she hauled Phain back to First Squad's defensive line.

"Sir!" She yelled to Fisk. "We have to fall back! There's too many of them for us to handle."

Fisk, hesitated, as if contemplating whether to follow his second officer's advice or not. Suddenly, a bright green bolt of energy speared through a nearby tree and roasted two Marines into piles of grey ash. A Hunter pair charged forward, knocking trees down like toothpicks and firing their fuel rod cannons indiscriminately. Karla winced. Without heavy weapons, there was no chance for them to take those Hunters on.

Out of the blue, four Jackhammer rockets screamed down from behind. Two of the rockets hit the first Hunter simultaneously, blowing it to pieces of roasted flesh and armor. The second Hunter managed to deflect a rocket with its shield, but didn't notice that the second rocket had lodged itself in the barrel of its fuel rod cannon. As the Hunter raised its weapon to fire, the cannon exploded, the lethal shrapnel tearing the Hunter apart

Fourth Sqaud had heard the fighting and pressed forward. Now, with heavy support, the Marines could pull off a proper fighting retreat.

"Fall back!" Fisk yelled. "Fall back to rally point Alpha!"

First Squad and the remains of Second Squad turned and sprinted back in the direction of the Marine lines. Fourth stayed for a few more seconds, pouring heavy machine gun and rocket fire into the advancing Covenant before packing up and following suit.

Reeling from the losses incurred from the fierce firefight, the Covenant forces pressed their attack and followed the retreating enemy.

As she was running, Karla yelled, "Merl!"

Corporal Merl was First Squad's Navy Liason. Besides Fisk, she was the only other soldier who was authorized to call in Navy airsrikes.

"Call in the cavalry! We need Longswords here ASAP! Got that?"

Merl nodded and started yelling requests into her radio. Plasma shots were starting to flare out from the brush behind them, setting bushes and trees ablaze. Karla kept her squads pushing foward, they were almost at Rally Point Alpha, where Paccone and his squad would be waiting to-

Karla skidded to a halt when she reached the clearing. There was nobody there. No Paccone, no Third Squad.

Fucking Paccone, where did he go? At the moment where she needed him the most.

At that moment, Fisk apparently regained his nerve, and began barking out orders at the other Marines.

"All units stop!" He yelled. "Hold position! We'll make our stand here!"

"What!" Karla stared incredulously at Fisk. "A 'stand', sir? You are not General Custer, and this sure as hell won't be another Little Bighorn!"

Karla was taken by surprise when Fisk backhanded her in the face. Stumbling backward, Karla was stunned by Fisk's sudden and savage response.

"I'm the one in charge." He snarled.

Seeing that he made his point, Fisk turned and charged at the advancing Covenant, screaming and firing. Karla really had no choice but to follow him. The next few minutes of combat were the most savage Karla had ever seen. Marines and Covenant clashed in a brutal melee. Soldiers that expended their clips had no time to reload, and resorted to using their weapons or knives as close combat weapons. She saw men that she had known since boot camp, since she joined the 108th, fight and die.

Merl screamed and choked on her own blood as a pack of Elites hacked her apart with their energy blades. Matt and Peterson were atomized by stray fuel rod cannon. Sgt Mckinnon yelled a battle cry as he fired his assault rifle on full auto. He was dead by the time the last round left the chamber. Silks was pinned to a tree trunk by wood splinters from an exploding tree. Countless others fell. Karla herself fought back savagely, firing off rounds from her rifle and using its stock to crack open the skulls of Grunts, Jackals, and Elites alike.

All in the meanwhile, Fisk continued to press his platoon forward to certain death.

Karla, still trying to fight off a squad of Grunts and protect Phain finally fell. Plasma rounds burned through her left bicep, collarbone, and incinerated her right knee. Gasping in pain, tears flowing down her face from the smoke and grief of watching her own platoon being slaughtered in front of her, Karla took out her pistol with her intact arm and started firing at anything that moved.

Suddenly, there was a great flash of light, and a loud buzzing sound filled the air. Karla glanced up to see three dark, delta shaped craft in the sky. The Navy Longswords spotted the firefight and began lending their firepower to aid the embattled Marines. 150mm cannons roared and laser guided missiles screamed through the air. The Covenant, already demoralized by the fierce resistance the Marines gave wavered and ran.

"Come on!" Fisk yelled, seeing the Covenant retreat. "We've got them on the run now!"

Another Longsword swooped past, strafing the retreating Covenant with cannon fire and ripping trees apart like paper. When the smoke finally cleared the Covenant were gone.

All that was left standing were barely half a dozen Marines. Six men and women from a patrol of thirty six. Fisk was not among those six Marines. Just scant minutes later, reinforcements arrived to relieve the survivors. ONI agents quickly whisked them away for debriefing while others stayed behind to analyze the battlefield.

One anonymous ONI investigator noticed that one of the dead Marine's wounds were not consistent with Covenant weaponry. Further investigation revealed that Lieutenant Charles Fisk was shot in the back several times by a Marine issue M6D pistol. The main ONI office processed the report and sent it to Colonel Levi Mensk of the Military Police for further investigation.

Inquiries were made about the whereabouts of Third Squad, led by Sergeant Paccone. Through debriefings and radio transcripts, it was discovered that Paccone managed to intercept a Covenant infiltrator unit. This unit was acting as a vanguard for the main assault unit that the rest of third platoon ran into, though their combat threat still remained controversial, due to the fact that the assault unit was prematurely mobilized.

Out of the six surviving Marines, only two were injured. Sergeant Robert Phain and Second Lieutenant Karla Wellings.

One day later

The survivors of the now infamous "Bluewater Massacre" were sitting around a fire in a Marine camp well behind friendly lines. The losses to the platoon were so severe, that it was being temporarily inactivated, and the survivors would be split up and integrated into other units. Being the last time any of them would see each other again, the survivors gathered for one final meeting.

Phain flexed his newly flash cloned left hand as he sipped his beer. He glanced around at the other surviving Marines sitting around the fire. Privates Remkin and Awal from First Squad, Corporal Hickson and Private Wayne from Second Squad, and of course, Karla Wellings.

"So... who do you think made the shot?"

The other Marines knew what he was talking about. There were rumors flying all over about who might've shot Fisk. Truth be told, everybody in the platoon had a motive, and definitely the means, to kill him.

Hickson shook his head. "Not me. Me and Wayne were too occupied trying to find some cover from the bombardment."

"Well, I sure as hell didn't shoot him." Remkin said, tossing away his empty beer can.

"Well, I'm not exactly too sure. I mean, there was so much happening, with all the shooting and the bombing.." Awal admitted.

Everybody then looked at Karla.

Karla was silent for a while, as if thinking of what to say. Then she finally spoke. "You know what, I don't really care who shot Fisk or how. It's just a case of friendly fire. He was simply just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Karla then got up. Leaning on her crutch, she saluted the five Marines and without waiting for a return salute, limped away into the darkness. Making sure they couldn't see, Karla slipped her new Lieutenant stripes into her pocket.

"Karla?"

Karla turned to see Paccone standing behind her, with relief on his face.

Paccone stepped forward. "Karla, I just want you to know that--"

He had no time to react to the fierce blow Karla gave him. Paccone fell over, and realized that his face was wet. He wiped his nose and found out that it was blood.

"Get out of my sight." Karla whispered, limping away on her crutch. She continued onward for a few seconds and paused just long enough to say, "And don't call me Karla anymore, It's Lieutenant Wellings to you now."

As she limped away, Karla muttered a quiet promise to herself. One that she would stay faithful to for another two years.

Present Day

"Holy shit." Leo muttered in disbelief. "She actually did that? How come she didn't just shoot you when you met again?."

"Well," Paccone sighed. "After transferring out for her new command, she had some time to think things through. We also met each other occasionally as the campaign wore on. I guess she eventually began to understand what I did and why,though she's never really gotten around that bitterness towards me. That betrayal of her trust really struck her heard. I wasn't there when she needed me the most, and it hurt her more severely than any wound she got during that battle."

"Wow..." Leo thought about what it would be like if Sam hated his guts like that. He then resolved to himself that if he ever found her again, he'd never leave her side, no matter what.

"That, my friend, is the ultimate lesson about following orders." Paccone grinned darkly. "Disobey them, and shit happens."

Elsewhere

Sam tossed aside Kumi's limp, unconscious form. She would have killed the girl if it weren't for some kind of subconscious block in her mind. No matter, she would get around that eventually.

Sam slowly walked away, a blank, dead look in her eyes. There was also a large, tumor like growth on her left shoulder, as if some sort of small, balloon sized creature had dug its way into her flesh...