The ground shook with the trampling of boots. Of machines of war. Of the Zerg infestation resisting obliteration. The thundering roar of Wraiths sent tremors through the earthen floor, rattling lose rocks to dance in the light of the low star, casting long shadows like daggers, pointing into the darkness beyond.
Darkness. That was a place to be right now. Away from this mess called war. Away from these soldiers and these giant bugs, and metal beasts in the sky, and on the ground. Away from the stench of death, of dying. Away from this miserable place, anything sounded better then here, then now.
The long stride of a running ultralisk passed by close, rampaging forth to some unknown ends. It was said that the great beasts came from gentle creatures. Unfathomable as it may be, perhaps there is some good left in them. Perhaps the darkness will welcome them as well when they are driven to extinction by war.
Gunfire erupted, the bullets passing overhead. It was a welcome sound. Perhaps a medic was with them. Perhaps, but not likely. I already knew I was the only medic in this battle. The healer, the caregiver, the mother to the very troops fighting right now. And here I was, lying in pools of blood. Of Zerg bile and human. Of my own. The red baked in the heat of the setting sun, giving off the pungent smell of iron.
The soldier next to me, the one I was trying to save from the darkness minutes ago, was already dead. A barb had punctured his leg initially, I was going to stop the bleeding, but apparently the hydralisk wasn't done yet. It had fired another two spines several minutes later, one into the man's skull, and one into my lung, moments after I had reached him.
See you soon, I thought. My resignation to die was upon me. My med-kit was splayed across the battlefield, some distance away. I couldn't tell how far, blood obstructed by vision in one eye, and a small piece of the soldier's skull had blown off into my other, ripping the fragile tissue easily. The syringe which had been in my hand at the time of injury was empty, I had already dumped the pain killers into myself after seeing the soldier would no longer need them. The dead feel no pain. The dying feel all to much.
My hand dropped the instrument onto the ground. Doctor Serra signing off... perhaps. But I wasn't ready. No, not for the black abyss. Not unless... My hand reached compulsively for the pendant around my neck. It was still there, drenched in my own blood. I held it tight in my hand, the sharp edges cutting into my fingers. A little more blood loss wouldn't hurt.
And then, my mind clicked, and I remembered. There was a letter waiting for me. Waiting for me back at the barracks. From the same person... The same dear soul that gave me this pendant. I wanted to read that letter... But people were already dying when I was awoken this morning, and I only had a chance to read who it was from. Of course, it was from the only person that wrote to me. Every week actually.
What the hell was I doing here? Lying in myself, contemplating my own death? I was a medic, a doctor, why couldn't I save myself? I leaned up to look at my wound, and then I remembered I could barely see. That was why... I couldn't see anything, even the medicine and neo-tissue applications... Were off in the distance somewhere... Somewhere else but where I needed them right now.
Coughing blood as I did so, I slammed my left hand to the ground in a fist. Well, into the soldier next to me. The chest armor easily stopped my hand, and it fell to the side of the soldier... to something cylindrical and cool to the touch... A canteen. My other hand reached out to help grasp the object, but I stopped it quickly. The sound of scattering feet coming closer suddenly filled my ears and dominated my focus. Closer and closer. It must be coming for me. I held my gasping breath as it neared.
My left hand, still close to the pistol on my leg, moved slowly to upholster the weapon. The creature approaching me hadn't noticed yet. If I was going to finally die, I wasn't going to let it happen event less. Like my life was so unimportant that I would just let it happen. No... it was important... The person that gave me this pendant, the person that wrote that letter... The person that gave me reason to breath.
Out of the corner of my left eye, the only sight I had, a shadow appeared. I couldn't make out features of course, the vision out of the sides of the eye is too weak to do that. It was clear however, that the creature next to me was a zergling. And it was inspecting the corpse of the soldier next to me. Well, it was the first one to inspect, and I didn't want to be the second. Not while I had life.
A great sound from the direction of the battlefield filled the air, and the ground shook immensely. Siege tanks. Finally. The zergling stopped moving, listening. It turned to the direction of the sound.
A second later, my hand was holding a smoking gun. The shot had penetrated and exited the zergling, and it's body fell to the side of the soldier oozing some foul smelling liquid. I saw it twitching in my dim vision as I gasped for air finally, though I couldn't get a clear shot at the beast. I grabbed the canteen quickly, the adrenaline of the kill fueling my survival. The water saturated the blood in my eye, and the residue loosened. I began to blink away the blood, taking a sip of the water for myself as I did so.
The zergling was looking at me with a half dead eye as it tried to stand up, but it was too late. My left eye saw clearly, and I fired a shot into the zergling's head. The creature fell still, and I rested the pistol back into my holster.
I breathed a small sigh of relief, though my breath came up short. My lung was still punctured. The bleeding was not so bad, but without aid I would lose consciousness. I tilted my head up so I could see the battlefield. Smoke and fire, and great carcasses filled the expanse. The battle had been pushed into the Zerg's territory it seemed.
The med-pack I needed was three yards away. Nine feet of torture. I dug my hands into the ground and leaned up with all my strength, blood sloshing around in my lung, only to drool out onto my uniform from the wound. The barb was sticking out of me, almost as if had always been there, as if I was a genetic experiment gone wrong. Then again, I was a genetic experiment. The Confederacy had had there way with me when I was born.
Feeling no strength to actually stand up, I leaned forward slowly, slipping my legs behind me, one by one. I crawled that distance for eternity. The pain killers were wearing down now, my lung was on fire. My chest was burning. The blood stung my throat as I swallowed it into my stomach. All the genetic experiments had turned my life force into a toxic, life-giving goo that tasted like iron-enriched crude oil.
Three feet left, memories of the letter were the only thing keeping me going. They were the only thing driving me forward against the unbearable pain. Pain killers weren't designed to last more then fifteen minutes, since most marines died shortly after they were administered adrenaline and morphine anyways. The Confederacy trained the marines to fight until death, not rest and go home. Though perhaps it could be said, the battlefield was the home of any marine. It was also their grave.
My body threatening to collapse as I gasped for air, my hand reached forward to the supplies I desperately needed. I pulled the metal box towards me greedily, opening it up like I had done in the past so many times. The familiar look of my carefully organized fixings reminded me of the quiet moments at the barracks when I would check and repackage the med-pack every morning. And the letters I would read after finishing my task.
I removed an injector from the kit and jammed it into my chest. The small nano-machines entered my lung quickly. The display on the injector returned the status of the machines, apparently the wound damaged ten square centimeters of tissue. I removed a neo-tissue capsule from my kit and locked it into the injector, and the liquid transferred into me. The readout displayed it was time to remove the foreign object.
This was a first, actually. Never before was I in a position to remove a spine from myself. I injected more pain killers into my blood and grasped hold of the spine with my free gloved hand. I took a short, gasping breath, and pulled the spine out. I pulled the second trigger on my injector, and the energy component of the nano-machines filled my chest. The working nano-machines grew hot as they mingled with the liquid energy, searing parts of my insides back together. Even with pain killers, I could still feel my chest burning from within. But I knew I would be okay, for at least a little while. I looked back at the read out with my one good eye. My blood pressure was at the lower ranges of okay. Only okay. I had lost quite a bit of blood.
Gaining some energy back, as I was not gasping for air constantly, I bent over the ground and let the remaining blood and lose machines in my chest come into my throat so I could cough them out. It tasted horrible, especially with the energy mixture in it, but I knew it would help. I was a doctor after all.
The repercussion of another siege tank strike shook the air and darkening skies. Apparently the battle was to continue on into the night. I reached over to my med-kit for some injectable vitamins and fluids and I loaded the syringes all the way and jammed them into my arm. It would keep me going long enough to get back to safety. I put the injector back into the med-kit and latched it, swinging it around onto my back.
Slipping my hand under my uniform, I wipe the blood away from the wound, just above my right breast. The skin was closed at the surface, though touching it was mildly painful. Being run though is going to hurt a little. My hand wondered over to pendant, and I grasped it. I stood up, a certain victory over death washing over me. No, more then that... I new hope for reading that letter. I wanted to read that letter.
I looked down at the corpses next to me, both quite dead and devoid of any life. I felt sorry for the marine, though that didn't stop me from taking his gun. It still had a full clip. Speaking of which, I figured it would be a good idea to take his clips too. I picked them up and tucked them under my belt. Out of sheer oddity, I took the spine and tucked it into my boot as a trophy.
The battlefield in this area was like some horrible picture. Looking across the expanse, bodies were strewn in every which way. The stench of blood filled the air. Not a soul stirred... There were none here, except for mine. I had a seen it before. Many times before. I used to cry. I used to care about everyone. But I can't do that anymore... No. There was only one truth for me right now. I cannot die, not for my sake, but instead, for the sake of that person. The one person. The person that keeps me alive in my heart. I turned towards the blank horizon where I had marched into battle from. It was empty of people, they were all fighting. The barracks stood like a great pillar of death, shadowing the remaining rays of light like an ominous figure. It was the direction I needed to walk.
Shaking, I walked slowly across the expanse. A great light covered my back as another siege strike was unleashed, though I ignored it. My feet carried me onwards, even as my mind began to fade with the dwindling light. I activated the flashlight on the end of the gun, and it lit the solemn battlefield in front of me. Heads missing, chests full of spines. Ultralisks and hydralisks covered in seeping bullet holes and charred hair.
As the second injection of pain killers wore off, my senses began to burn, but I was to detached from myself to realize it. The letter is all I wanted. All I needed. Her voice in my soul. It would be okay. I knew it would be okay if I could hear that voice once more. The voice of my guardian angel, in this fire.
"Williams, what the hell you think you doing?" barked a man, and I snapped out of my reverie. "We got men dying an' you're back here takin' a stroll home!"
It was a platoon leader. Not mine, but just the same he did have a few ranks on me. I turned to face him so he could clearly see my uniform, and the hole in it. He was scavenging ammunition from the corpses of his comrades.
"Sir, do you have a hole through you too or can I go on my way?" I replied hoarsely. A bit of blood came from my mouth, and dropped onto my blood-stained uniform. The man looked at me hatefully, suddenly understanding my uselessness on the battlefield. He had no pity on me.
"I want you on the battlefield in four hours." He ordered. He turned back to his vehicle and jumped in. "Four hours or I'm dragging you here myself." The engine started suddenly, and he disappeared into the darkness, heading towards the front lines. I starred at him with all of the hate in my being. All the hate for this misdirected government, for this war, for this pain. For this distance between me and her. Distance not in miles, but in dead bodies. In time. In emotions. A tear crawled down my face from my bad eye.
"I hope you die!" I shouted into the wind. "So no one will expect to me come, because I won't! I won't come!" Tears rolled down my cheeks. For a good hour the only thing on my mind had been getting back to the barracks, to read that letter. And now this General's butt-kisser is calling me back to the battlefield? Away from the one thought that kept me going? Yea right, buddy. Have a 'nade. Or a spine to the chest, that would work too. "'Hope a Zerg eats your balls!" With that I turned around and started walking to the barracks again.
I could certainly be childish, even in my sadness, in my hate. Perhaps this childish keeps me sane though. Perhaps Amy likes it when I'm childish. Perhaps I'm thinking to much about being childish. Perhaps I am. Yes, I think Amy likes when I'm childish. Her childhood was stolen away. I miss my childhood...
"Wake up Sista!" I told myself quickly. The blood loss wasn't helping my focus at all, though I was moving closer to the barracks now. At this rate, maybe twenty minutes away. The letter would be in my hands. I would be reading it. I would be smiling. A little bit. Amy still doesn't know I love her. She will soon though. Coming so close to death... Well, it changes my perspective on things. Primarily, I need to be selfish with my feelings, I think. I can't keep giving life to other people if I am losing my own to insanity. To loneliness. To spines in the chest. Things have to change or I'll be just like the veteran marines... a soulless soldier of the war effort. They get some every once in awhile... from a whore. No way in hell I'd go for that though.
The time passed slowly, but it passed. I was at the main gate of the barracks. The guard on duty didn't speak to me, he just opened the door, his eyes on my eye, on my chest. The blood was still damp. Again I reminded myself, like I always do, how accustomed I am to seeing horrendous things. I moved inside, and down the hallway to my private quarters. If there was one thing about being the only female, and a medic, in the military, I had my own quarters. Moments later I was inside the familiar room. The bare gray walls welcomed me.
The gun, the med-pack, and my belt fell to the floor immediately. I turned on the light, and turned towards the sink. The person reflected in the mirror above it was a mess, and I turned on the water. The hot water was cold, like always.
My right eye was gouged horribly. I would have to put in an electronic one. My uniform was of course still blood-soaked with a hole above my right breast. I took it off carefully, and let it drop to the floor besides the gun, which now that I thought about, had the safety off still. Not that it really mattered I guess. The marines never had the safety on anyways.
My skin was stained with my blood. The rivulets had flown around my breasts and down my side and stomach. The wound itself was inflamed, and it would probably be that way for a week or two. I took a wash cloth and wiped the majority of it away in a practiced method. And then I turned to the lone table on the other side of the room. The lone table with the pale white letter on it.
Now that I was here, ready to read the letter, I felt guilty for all those thoughts of love I had felt for Amy on the way back. She was married, not even that long ago. I don't know the circumstances of her relationship with her husband, she doesn't speak about them. And I am not inclined to ask.
"Stop it! Just stop it!" I told myself sternly. I was being selfless again. The one thing that kept me in my sadness all these long years. The one thing that prevented me from acting before she married. The idea that I was worthless. The very idea that had been ingrained into my thoughts by the military. The idea that I was a speck of color in the big picture. No... I wasn't just a speck, nor was I just a color. I was the speck of white on the otherwise black canvas. We as a people, we were fighting to be free, and happy, and to live peaceful lives. Lives like mine where I love someone!
The wash cloth fell to the floor as I leaped towards the letter, snatching it up hungrily. My hands trembled as the feel of the paper reached my mind. I rubbed my fingers over the handwritten letters on the front. "To Miss Serra Williams, Block43-B, Barracks A, Colony 27"
The letter slid out easily into my hands, and the aroma that was Amy filled the room like it always did. I unfolded it carefully, even though the paper was study and of the best available quality. The letters were finely written, Amy's handwriting was perfected after years of writing scientific essays. She was a scientist after all. Laying on my bed, I began to read.
"Dearest Serra,
"I got word today that there was going to be a major ruffle in your region. I canceled a test this afternoon to write you. In the case you don't return... you would have had something from me that morning. I know it sounds awkward, forgive me, I am an awkward person.
"Loneliness has always been your thing, Serra. Every letter you have written me it is painfully apparent that you have no one to talk to. I should have said something sooner, back before you left the academy. I should have let you closer to me. Before our lives were ... changed. Before we couldn't talk easily to each other.
I had to wipe a tear away as the memories resurfaced about our younger years together. They were precious, to the both of us.
"Okay, I'm sick of hiding it: I want you to get a better education back here in Colony 4. They have great schools for all sorts of medical knowledge. Life saving knowledge.
"Vastly contrasting from my normal procedures, I am making it so you don't have an option anymore. Your too selfless to do it yourself... I'm going to have you transferred to Colony 4. I've even checked into the medic transfers and they are sending a fresh batch in a weeks time, so you can come back and learn more in a positive environment once the request goes through."
I had to set the letter down. Everything Amy was saying was wonderful, yet at the same time, cryptic. The letter was read by a military personal before it was sealed and mailed, well, that's what I knew at least. Amy was only the head scientist for a small laboratory, she didn't really have the power to transfer me. But she did know the people. I already knew she was super smart though.
"Life saving knowledge?" I read out loud. Obviously a reference to the 90 fatality rate for marines over the course of ten years service. "Positive environment?" For some reason, I really liked the way that one sounded. The whole letter thus far felt like Amy was trying to convey she would do everything in her means to not only get me out of this damnable barracks, but 'open' me up. Well, that's the impression I got at least. Remembering there was still letter left to read, I focused on the pages in front of me.
"Everything I want to say to you, everything... I would like to tell you in person. It is something that I cannot convey in words. However, it will be conveyed whether or not you are ready for it. Whether or not you like it. You could hate me for it, you could love me for it. You could want to die. You could want to kill me. You could want to cry. It will be okay... After years and years of indecisiveness on my part, I have gotten over the idea of having to feel gratitude after sharing a private thought. As long as you know, I will be happy being in your life. I anyway.
"Serra, Please be safe, never know what or who. Amy"
Amy certainly had something secret to share with me, she closed the letter with our secret line that basically summarized "This letter would have been ten pages longer if I had shared everything with you, but it would have gotten me in trouble."
I didn't realize Amy was indecisive, but at the same time I could find no secret meaning in the words. Sighing, I reread the paragraph. She was being serious. "You could want to die?" From Amy? That sweet scientist girl, my angel? Something serious no doubt...
"She loves me..." I said in a whisper to myself. The letter made sense under the pretense that she loved me. Under the pretense that she would be killed for loving me. By her husband, no doubt. Tears ran down my cheek, dropping softly to roll off my blood colored chest, washing away the red into the sheets on my bed. It was readily apparent what I had to do do at this point.
"I need to get out of here. To Colony 21, tonight. I'll be dead by morning if I have to go back onto the field." I took several deep breaths. My lung was horribly sore, but it worked. I was a bit dizzy from blood loss, but I could walk. I could think. I was tired all over, but I could function. I grabbed a sheet of cheap paper, and a pen.
"Amy,
"There are no words to express how much things have changed, please accept my denial of your hospitality."
I had to keep it short, I had to make sure any official investigation would show Amy as a dead end. To show that I had no interest in Amy, as much as possible. And to also make sure she would cancel the request for my transfer. If the transfer went through, it would not look like coincidence to the investigators. Should they even bother with me disappearing.
"Please be safe, never know what or who."