The sun was warm, even through the glass of the space station's windows. The faux blue sky didn't quite hide the illusion, but it did its job.
The plant life around Lopez was certainly real. It was much like that of a park on Earth, with lots of trees and grass, neat and tidy paths, and a few buildings scattered about. There was even a pond.
The bio dome was big, several hundred meters in diameter at least, big enough to fit several buildings. It was intended as a stopoff point for crews that had been stationed in deep space for a while and there wasn't enough time for shore leave while at Earth's lagrange point 2.
The wonders of modern technology.
Around Lopez, there were scattered handfuls of other crews; a few batches from the Navy, a Helljumper squad around the pond arguing about something, and some merchant Marine groups. Three Marines were standing around a food stand. More were elsewhere. In fact Marines dominated the structure.
Lopez turned her attention to the group around her.
More than a dozen Marines were around, talking and laughing.
Cranker was arguing with Maller over something, Sydney and Garsten were laughing about some stupid joke while Singh was groaning at it, and Rabbit was saying something that made Orlav blush and giggle.
Lopez stood with Burgundy and Benti, both of whom were eating ice cream from small cups.
In fact most of the Marines were eating ice cream.
Lopez felt happy for some reason. She couldn't place why, she just was.
"So Sarge, any plans now that Earth is safe?" Burgundy asked.
"Keep nuking Covies until they glow, then shoot em in the dark!" Lopez grinned.
There were a few cheers from the other Marines, and a high five or two.
"Anyone seen Clarence or MacGraw?" Mahmoud asked.
"I think they're out getting more stuff," Percy said, "it's the least they can do after the stunts they pulled."
"Yeah, but we all made it out, didn't we?" Ayad said, nudging him.
"Didn't think we would," Simmons commented, "when those things grabbed us, I thought we were cooked!"
"That dumbass spook shoved me into a whole swarm of em! I almost didn't make it!" Rakesh muttered, shivering.
"At least you went out fighting, I just froze up…" Tsardikos groaned.
"Hey, everyone freezes up sometimes," Lopez said, "you know I would've gotten you out!"
"Yes, Sarge…"
She nudged the glasses wearing Marine, "c'mon, you know mama Lopez never leaves her kids behind!"
Tsardikos smiled a little, more confident this time.
"Well it would've been nice at least to have had someone in the pelican with me!" Burgundy said, "jeez, that was creepy! They damn near broke my leg when they got me! And my blood's probably half gum by now! Do you know how much I was chewing?"
"Well, stickybeak, I think that ship sailed a long time ago!"
The Marines all laughed. Her callsign partly came from how filthy her ships could get when she had time for gum.
Lopez chuckled as she looked at Benti, who had been silent this whole time.
"Hey, Benti, penny for your thoughts?"
Benti stabbed at her ice cream. "Aren't we missing someone?"
Lopez tilted her head, "who?"
"Our friend?"
"The hinge head? Look, it saved our butts, but I don't think the Brass are going to let him wander around just to hang with us!"
"Right."
Benti took a bite of ice cream, "you know, something's wrong, Sarge."
Lopez smirked, "nothing's wrong, kid. Everything's fine. Hell, we managed to get a Flood cure! Everything's fine!"
"Yeah, but...I can't help but feel like something's wrong. I don't know what it is, though."
Lopez snorted, and bared her teeth in a predatory grin, "there's nothing wrong, Benti. What could it be? We've got the squad, Earth is fine, we're beating back the Covies, and we'll be…"
She paused, then shrugged, "whatever it is we do with them. I even got you guys shore leave! I'd say the only thing wrong might be the wrong kind of ice cream!"
"Hey, I like purple ice cream!"
Lopez opened her mouth to reply, raised an eyebrow, then shrugged again, "heh, it really brings out your eyes!"
A shiver went down Lopez's back. There was a chuckle nearby.
She turned around and saw a figure standing in the shade of some trees, leaning against one. Lopez tilted her head.
"Sarge? What is it?" Benti asked.
"Give me a sec…" Lopez muttered, and walked over to the figure.
They stood in the shade, wearing a striped purple suit.
There was an unsettling mischievous grin on their face, that only grew as Lopez stepped into the shade.
"Who are you?" Lopez asked.
"Complex question. Do I answer with a title? A nickname? A true name? A first name? A last name?" The being straightened up and picked up a cane, tossing it to themselves. They spoke with a very distinctive nasally voice that was quite irritating. "I choose not to answer...for now at least. But I know you... Sergeant."
Lopez glared at the being, "how do you know me? Are you a spook?"
"I know that I know you, and I suppose I am a spook. A spook to spooks. I spook, and I am a spook. Spook, spook, spook. Now the word doesn't mean anything."
Lopez looked confused, and a little angry, "what do you want? I'm busy!"
"I didn't call you. You called me. There's something you want."
"Okay, whatever you're selling I'm not buying," Lopez said, throwing up her hands, "if you'll excuse me, I'm going to just go back and-"
She turned, only for the being to move with impossible speed to stop in front of her, "Hey, take it easy. you called me. I didn't call you."
Lopez glared at him, "I didn't call you!"
"Well, you might not remember. Tricky thing, the human brain. Anyway, there was something you needed. Something about a message?"
Lopez narrowed her gaze, then became perplexed.
She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a battered sleeve patch. It was in stark contrast to her clean clothes, this thing was filthy and covered in dust. "What the-?"
The being took it from her grip, holding it up to the light. "Hm, an old book, a goddess, a nation, a pelican, an animal, something about a darkspawn, something about Templars and prisoners, and a UNSC code. Well, I can tell you that one. Three-Nine-Two, special warfare teams will ignore hails from other forces due to a higher-priority mission."
"How do you know that? Where'd that thing even come from?"
"Doesn't matter. Now, the book you already know. The Pelican, B312…"
A fat book with a spine that said "A Guide to Pelicans" appeared in the being's hands, with a picture of the animal on the cover.
"Let me look here, let me see what it says...Bravo 312, Bravo, B.R… Bra- here we go, Bravo 312, okay. Says here it was assigned to the Pillar of Autumn in preparation for Operation RED FLAG. The code name is in all caps."
"Red flag? I don't know it." Lopez said.
"Well, you wouldn't. It was classified."
"I knew it was attached to the Autumn already. Do you have anything new?"
The suited figure tilted their head, "And spoil the fun?"
The being tossed the book behind them, and it vanished. "Now, the goddess? That's a tricky one. Is it linked to the Dalish or not?"
"I don't know." Lopez growled.
"If it is, that's interesting. They say Andraste hung around with the Dalish, and that's partly why they burned her. A bit like Jesus, actually. Jewish man who the moderns say the Jews hate." The being smirked, "Darkspawn, do you know what they are?"
"Some monsters that come around in a cycle," Lopez said, "What of it."
"Corypheus isn't just any darkspawn, sergeant. He's...special."
"What? Did his parents not read to him or something?"
The creature actually laughed, "Well, I presume as much. Is there anyone literate enough for that on this planet?"
"What planet? Earth's literacy rates are nearly 100%."
The being raised its eyebrows, "Oh, right! Earth! Wink!"
"So who's Corypheus?"
"He was dealing with those people you were shooting the other day."
"What about the Templars?" Lopez didn't know why she asked that. She just...did.
"Hm, that's a good question. Are they linked to Corypheus? Perhaps, perhaps not. I think you know more than you let on about the 'prisoner' part of the message though. You know they've got some of your people."
Lopez raised an eyebrow, "What?"
"You heard me and you knew all along." The being grinned, "Now...the book…" They summoned a copy, "Maybe you should read it."
"Some old text from the 20th century? I don't think so."
"It's not like there's anything else you're reading."
"Next part of the message."
"How do you know-"
Lopez grabbed the being by the collar, "Next. Part."
"Ah, the animal! A wolf! Perhaps...a Lone Wolf?"
"What does that even mean?"
"Eh, probably not important."
"What does it mean? She underlined it."
The creature made another book appear. "Hm, it looks like a case of...I don't have a clue?"
Lopez cursed, "was there anything else?"
"Anything else...yeah, okay, yeah it says here whatever you do, don't- oh…" The being grimaced unconvincingly, that grin never vanishing, "okay, never mind. I'm not supposed to read you that part."
She grabbed the creature's suit again, lifting it up off it's feet, "now you are. What did it say?"
"Sarge?" Benti rushed up, "what the heck are you doing?"
"Just a little disagreement here, Benti. Can you get Cranker and Mahmoud over here to hold this guy still?"
"I-"
The creature tilted it's head to look at Benti, "Corpsman Ngoc Benti, UNSC Navy. Earth born."
Benti stared, "Sarge?"
The creature looked at Lopez, "she's so young. Or she was. So were the rest of them. No wonder you surround yourself with the dead."
"What are you talking about?" Lopez snarled, shaking him, "they're fine!"
"Look around you. Who else is here?"
Lopez looked.
The Helljumpers were still by the pond. They were in fatigues, not their body armor, but there was some color about them…
"Pelican Hotel Two-Seven-Niner to Alpha-Seven. Alpha-Seven, come in, over."
"Hotel Two-Seven-Niner, this is Alpha-Seven! Do not approach, repeat, do not approach!"
"Anderson, what's your status?"
"Objective complete! We're pinned down, still inside the enemy facility!"
"We're on our way!"
"Negative! Do not approach! Ack-ack is too heavy! Everyone fall back, now!"
"Anderson!"
"Lopez, get out of here!"
Lopez tightened her grip on the creature, "what's going on here?"
"I have nothing to do with it."
She looked again at the three Marines ordering food.
"Stanley…?" she whispered.
The woman wearing corporal's stripes among the three looked up at her.
"Stanley...get Stanley!" She moaned, the medics holding her hands away from her bleeding eye socket.
"Marine, she's dead!"
"But…"
The eighteen year old private rolled to one side of the stretcher, and saw Corporal Stanley slumped in the alleyway, limp hands positioned still trying to shove her organs back in, her chin on her chest.
The shredded zealot elite lay near the other Marine's feet, energy dagger finally shutting down.
"Stanley…"
"They're fine!" Lopez snarled, "what on earth are you talking about?"
"Your subconscious is interesting, sergeant. So much guilt. And in so many varieties!" The creature eyed Benti again.
"Don't you fucking look at her!" Lopez hissed.
"How about them, then?"
Lopez saw a few people in civilian clothes walking on one of the paths, averting their eyes from the sergeant and the others.
The smell of burned flesh filled the air. An army grunt bent over, retching onto his buddy's boots.
"Maroon 1, this is Maroon 1-2. The convoy's been hit."
"Are there any survivors?" The radio crackled.
Lopez coughed, "the brutes got them, ma'am. What do you think?"
"Everyone you love dies violently; unnaturally. You're cursed! Why go on? It'll just endanger others!"
"Benti, call security. We've got a spy here." Lopez snarled.
"Sarge…"
"Now, Benti!"
Lopez turned to glare at her, and caught sight of several Navy crew feeding the birds.
"Move it, move it, move it! They don't have much time!"
The Marine's boots hammered on the stairs, alarms wailing around them. The boarding parties had been held off in several areas, but one got into one of the crew quarters.
"Lopez, there's more of the bastards heading your way!" the corporal's radio crackled.
"The more the merrier!" Lopez shouted, and raced through her fireteam to get to the head of the pack.
They turned the corner, and spotted grunts emerging from the access hatch.
The Marines didn't slow down, gunning down the little monsters before they got a chance to react.
The humans stacked up against the hatch, threw in flashbangs, and charged in like professionals.
Lopez scanned the room, the lights were out. She flicked on her flashlight, and scanned the chamber.
"Jesus Christ…"
Her stomach flipped.
The grunts had gotten there first.
Lopez saw a locket dangling from a Navy woman's dog tags. Clean of blood and brain matter, not clutched in a shattered hand.
"Who are you?" she demanded, "What are you?"
"The proper order of things is often a mystery to me. You too?"
XXXXX
"Get your fat arses offa me!"
Lopez jumped at the shriek, and sat up straight, blinking the sleep out of her eyes, the dream forgotten. Someone shoved her a bit, and she clung to the rear bar of the Warthog's roll cage to keep from falling out of the vehicle's bed.
She moved around a bit, and glared at Sera, "Hey, I'm probably in better shape than all of you. He's the only one who's fat!"
Lopez gestured at Iron Bull, who was on the other side of Sera. All three had their backs to the front end of the Warthog's bed, with Sera squashed between the two of them.
The landscape rushed by, with Corlett in the front seat, and Dorian in the passenger seat. Gil-Galad and Solas had been sleeping slumped against each other on the opposite end of the cargo bed, and slowly woke up themselves.
Iron Bull just groaned, "Woke up next to an elf and a human? This isn't even the weirdest morning I've had."
"Ugh…" Lopez groaned, "You too?"
Bull raised an eyebrow at her, "We might not have your vehicles, but soldiers everywhere are pretty much the same."
"Trust me horny, you have no idea what locker room smells I know," Lopez grimaced, resisting the urge to dial up some caffeine or painkillers from her armor's stockpiles, "I've been with a squad locked in a dropship for a week on an trans-lunar injection."
Iron Bull chuckled, "Yeah, we can all picture that. Imagine everyone my size stuck on a warship for a month. Same thing really."
Lopez opened her mouth to reply, then thought about it for a moment. "Oh, shit. You guys probably don't even have good sanitation."
"Pretty much. We're better than some people about cleanliness, but, y'know…"
"Doesn't matter to me! Stop squishing me!" Sera snarled.
"Wasn't trying to, car rides make everyone sleepy…" Lopez muttered, rubbing her face, "hey, private, are we there yet?"
Corlett glanced in the rear view mirror, "we're almost there, Sarge. Should only be a few klicks."
"Still not soon enough." Lopez grumbled.
A distant boom reached their ears.
"What was that?" Gil asked, sitting up and looking around.
"It sounded like something big." Sera commented.
Something shrieked through the air and drove into the ground a dozen meters to the left. It bounced several times, each impact threw up dirt and left a hole about a meter in diameter. Corlett swerved, and hit the brakes, drifting to a stop.
Lopez leapt out and ran toward the object's final resting place.
Steam and smoke rose up, the snow around the crater melting as a small fire started.
The sergeant crouched, peering at the small smoking sphere about ten centimeters in diameter at the center of the crater. She dusted off a bit of dirt, cursing at the heat.
"What is it?" Gil asked, rushing up.
Lopez cursed again, straightening up, "I'm going to kill him!"
"What is it?" Gil repeated.
"It's a goddamn cannonball! He fired a cannon at us!"
"It's a what? Who?"
"C'mon…" Lopez dragged Gil-Galad along, climbing back into the Warthog. "Floor it, private!"
The wheels spun then bit the ground. The hydrogen engine roared as loud as it could.
"What happened? What was that?" Sera demanded, holding onto the back of the roll cage.
"She said it was a cannonball!" Gil shouted over the noise.
"Since when does the Inquisition have cannons?" Iron Bull asked.
"Good question!" Lopez barked, "I'm dying to find out!"
The winding road pulled them around a ridge, and into the Haven valley. The town Inquisition troops watched them go by, still shocked by the jeep.
"Stop here!" Lopez called out, and jumped out, looking around for something.
In the time since they'd first left, the encampment around Haven had expanded. The Inquisition was growing as troops rallied and they gathered up lost units. When they'd left, there had been a lot of soldiers just milling about, setting up campfires.
Now they were much more organized. The sergeant noted with approval they had arranged tents in neat orderly rows, raised a few dozen centimeters above the ground, and divided by units. There were kitchens distributed properly, and surprisingly, their latrines were in sanitary conditions. They kept the drinking water separate from their refuse piles. In other words, they weren't on the streams, or on the lake itself.
They were doing drills, keeping things orderly, everything a proper army should do. It wasn't as disciplined as she would have preferred, but there was more than anything she'd seen or heard of.
Templars think they're hot shit, don't they? These guys aren't even fully trained and they're already pretty good!
As she moved through the encampment, Lopez noted the Inquisition soldiers in the area weren't doing their typical drills of sword duels. There were a few dozen of them in block formations, marching back and forth, practicing wheeling around. Others were relaxing, but jumped to their feet as the sergeant walked by.
"It's the champion!" she head being muttered. A disappointing handful corrected that to be "the sergeant", and even fewer said the word without the same reverence.
Lopez groaned, and kept walking.
She spotted what she was looking for down by the water in front of the town walls. A long bronze tube mounted on a carriage, with another carriage a dozen meters behind it. Wisps of white smoke blew around the field.
And beside it were several embarrassed-looking Inquisition troops, one holding a cannon's ramrod, being screamed at by Cassandra.
"Hey, Cass!" Lopez barked as she ran up, "What the hell happened?"
Cassandra turned around, "Sergeant Lopez, you've returned!" Her eyes narrowed, "That is precisely what I was asking of these fools!"
"You morons damn near sent a round right through our engine block-!" Lopez began, then glanced at Cassandra. "You didn't hit them, did you?"
"I had half a mind to flog them! They thought they would try to take the top off that ridge!"
Cassandra pointed, but Lopez glared at her.
"Okay, we're not flogging anyone. That has to stop now. If I see any officer or NCO hitting a subordinate, I'll have them beaten!"
She held one finger before Cassandra could even speak, "No physical abuse! None! I don't give a shit what you morons know or don't know about psychology, don't be hittin' each other!"
She marched past the troopers and leaned over, inspecting the cannon. "people, you're not going to get a really precise shot with this kind of smoothbore cannon. Least not without a rocket-assisted projectile."
The sergeant straightened up, "Where'd you get this thing?"
"It...it was...the angel…"
Lopez breathed a sigh of relief, "Okay, good, I was worried for a minute."
She rapped her knuckles on the cannon, and peered at the manufacturing mark on the top.
It had a vague version of the Inquisition standard. An eye in the center, with a sword straight through the middle of it, and a sun-shape behind it. Unlike the conventional standard however, there was a simple UNSC eagle behind the eye, and the eye itself was modified slightly, looking more like oval Covenant insignia.
"I can see he's been busy…" Lopez muttered.
"Sergeant-!"
"Okay, who the hell's been drilling you people?!" Lopez demanded in her drill sergeant voice, glaring at the gun crew, "you were trying to take the top off that mountain? That was a waste of ammo, and incredibly dangerous!"
Several of them pointed to Cassandra.
"Ah, gotta fix that discipline. Next time sound off her name!"
The soldiers nodded.
"I think the proper response to that is 'yes sergeant'!"
"Yes sergeant!" They chorused.
"Good, now…" she turned toward Cassandra, "what have you been up to, Cass?"
"Interpreting for the beast- your friend. The troops can barely understand him, so while he's been manufacturing new weapons, I've been drilling the soldiers." She gestured to the gun crew, "you can see I still have a ways to go."
"I'll bet, Cassie."
"That is not-"
"Now where the hell is my damn shark? I need to have a chat with-"
Lopez turned around and time froze for a moment.
Words caught in her throat.
The sergeant blinked.
Her hand had blurred down and back up, the other joining it to now hold the M6D pistol. In both hands she pointed forward and drew a bead on the figure before her.
He still wore the snow suit. It was still Henry. But for a moment it was like he wasn't.
Like a reasonable soldier, the elite had realized he was vulnerable without armor or proper weapons on this world. As part of his task of building their arsenal, he had created his own equipment.
Reasonably, he had created armor to fit over his snowsuit, no good against bullets but perfect for the swings of a Templar's sword. He found some rather interesting materials from a traveling merchant, who had kindly given the material to him for free leaving it on the side of the road as he rapidly left. It made very lightweight yet strong armor.
And rationally, he had created a sword for himself. It wasn't straight like a human one, his hands weren't made for that. And his sword training wasn't the best, so he'd go with the Sangheili equivalent of a broadsword.
The same broadsword pattern favored by current Covenant officers, those swords made of energy instead of steel.
His armor was the same type as it had been for countless generations, the model favored for protection against melee and projectile weapons. The same pattern, but not material as he had worn before capture.
Slung on his back was a wood and metal weapon, a firearm that looked like a rectangular block with a circular grip made for four-fingered hands.
He stood before her almost fully outfitted in purple-black Covenant armor, the signature weapon of the Elites at his belt, and a rifle in the style of the plasma repeater favored by Elite and Brute units on Reach on his back.
All Lopez could see were the dark figures who had risen out of the dark on rainy nights on the perimeter, to kill one of her friends, to try and kill her.
All she could see were the monsters she had trained against.
All she could see was the silhouette she had been trained for years to recognize as hostile.
Her finger had flipped off the safety.
And the barrel was smoking.
Henry stood there, a variation of shock upon his face. He checked himself, feeling for a wound, but could find nothing.
He looked back at her. Her eyes were intense, hard to read, even if a human saw them.
The elite tilted his head at her. She had not fired again.
Slowly, he raised one hand, turning his palm outward. The other he extended to the side, pulling his sword off his belt and stabbing the blade into a snowbank.
He stepped back, spread his arms, and bowed his head.
Lopez lowered her pistol slightly, shock appearing subtly on her face.
A mixture of annoyance and anger replaced it.
"Henry you freak! What the hell is wrong with you? I could've shot you!"
"You did!" Henry garbled, "how you fallar?!"
"I don't know! Did your fat ass lose some weight?!"
"Did Zhao hit head? Zhao not good shot?"
"Oh don't even start, split-lip!"
"Right. Zhao cartridges always run out. Forgot."
"Says the elite who couldn't even find a gun on that damned transport!"
"I no had 'aterials!"
Lopez's eye widened, and she spun around, seeing Corlett rushing around the corner, having heard the shot.
"Sarge, get down!" he shouted, trying and failing to unlimber his rifle.
"Wort, wort, wort!" Henry snarled, strafing to the side in far too familiar a manner for Lopez to keep her hand steady.
"Private, hold your fire!" she shouted, shoving her pistol back in her holster with great effort. "He's friendly!"
The rifle sling was stuck on Corlett's jacket, and he kept tugging on it, "Sarge, what are you doing?!"
"I didn't mean to shoot him! Hold your fire! We talked about this!"
Corlett reached for his sidearm, raising it, "He's a hinge-head, Sarge!"
"Thank you for that vital piece of intel, private! Lower your weapon!"
"But…"
"We talked about this! I told you he's friendly!"
"I know, Sarge, it's just…"
"If you know, then lower your goddamn weapon before I come over there! One! Two!"
Corlett rapidly tossed the pistol onto the ground, putting up his hands.
Lopez sighed with relief, and picked up the weapon, "Thank you, private."
"Zhao, quien es ese?" Henry demanded.
"Private Corlett, alligator-man!" Lopez said, spinning around in annoyance, "No le disparar!"
Henry glared at him, "Corlett?" the way he said it without proper human lips made it sound like "Car-lett".
"Corlett, what's your first name?" Lopez asked.
"Cody, ma'am." The private said, his hands still up, but twitching toward his rifle.
"Pick whichever one fits, squid head!" Lopez barked.
"Corlett tu guerrero?" Henry asked.
"No, he's a stray…" Lopez paused, "Uh…"
She held up her right hand, fingers extended palm-down, pointed to the hand and to herself. Then she pointed at Corlett with her other hand, with one finger. She moved the same finger to her right hand, making the finger bounce away from the hand, "Stray, he's a stray."
Henry furrowed his brow, and made a honking sound.
She recognized it as the inquisitive Elite noise asking, "Heretic?"
She shook her head, "No, he's…"
Lopez looked back at Corlett, then sighed.
She made the modulated blarg sound for "lost".
"He is lost," she repeated, "He was lost!"
It sounded like "Gah ser blarg".
"Tashee?" he asked.
"Yes! El es de Pilar de Otoño!" she added, "He's a friend! Friend, you get me?"
Henry glared at her, and snarled something very hostile in Spanish and the Sangheili language.
Lopez barked back in a similar language combination, and flipped him off.
He flipped her off right back.
"What did they say?" Corlett asked, looking at Cassandra nearby.
"I only understood about half of it. You don't want to know." she sighed.
The seeker glanced at him and did a bit of a double-take. "Who are you?"
"Private Cody Corlett, UNSC Marines, attached to the 79th Infantry Battalion." He took a step away, and finally managed to bring his rifle around.
Cassandra sighed again, "Another one."
Lopez and Henry were still yelling at each other.
The rest of the party arrived, and Iron Bull's eyes widened, "Well, that thing's big. I've never seen anything like it."
"It's alright, he's a friend of the Sergeant's. He's called Henry." Gil-Galad said, stepping out in front of the Qunari in case he tried to attack.
"A friend, huh?" Iron Bull asked, watching the soldiers continue to shout.
"Nishum!" Lopez spat, along with several modulated honks, low growls, and a long howl.
"Screw you, asshole!" Henry snarled, "Hijo de las mil putas!"
"Looks like they're calming down now." Solas commented.
"He normally can't pronounce Ms or Ps, he must've been practicing that one." Gil-Galad muttered.
"Shouldn't we stop them?" Dorian asked, speaking for the first time.
"Nah, we should get snacks!" Sera laughed, watching the affair.
"I'm not sure we should even try yet. The sergeant could break one of us in half." Gil commented.
Cassandra was rubbing the bridge of her nose, and beside her, Corlett could only stand there and watch.
He knew Lopez was right. She was the sergeant, he knew to trust them, and she seemed to know what was up. Her scars, battered armor, and her attitude all reflected being a veteran for a long time.
But it was things like this that told him just how much about the sergeant he didn't know. She was still a stranger.
His old sergeant would've shot the Elite and probably roasted it on the fire before you could say "pass the sauce".
He was a newcomer to this planet, and this hit him like a...well, something he wouldn't like to hit him.
He wanted to shoot the damn dino already, but the sergeant had told him not to. They'd destroyed Reach, they'd been killing people for longer than he'd been alive. They were all monsters, they were the targets on the range, they were every beer can the older soldiers put on the rocks to for target practice.
Corlett was a scout, he was supposed to designate the bigger Elites for targeting. They were the laughing bad guys the Spartans shredded on vids.
But the Sarge told him not to fire…and the squid head wasn't acting like the squids were.
He was shouting in English and Spanish, and Lopez was saying...something in Wort-ese.
He was dressed like an Elite but he hadn't done anything to harm anyone, his body language was all wrong.
It was enough to give a devil dog a brain aneurysm.
They were at war, weren't they? What was Lopez doing, fraternizing with the enemy?
Could she be one of those squid-kissers? Those morons who thought the UNSC started the war, the guys left over from the Innies?
Her scar though…
Lopez gave a guttural noise, and added, "...damn you!"
She sighed, finally burning out.
Lopez turned back toward Corlett, "Private, what are you thinking?"
Corlett's eyes were wide, and he took a step back, "Sergeant...what?..."
"He saved my life, private, and I'd trust him to watch my back more than I'd trust any ONI scumbag ever again. I'm no traitor. I still want to burn the Covies to the ground and dance on the ashes. But this one? He's alright."
Corlett was still staring.
"Private, come on…"
Henry looked down at the UNSC soldiers. "Wort?"
"Henry shut up. Private, are you going to do anything? Don't be shooting me for fraternization, and if you do, make sure you don't miss."
Corlett's eyes somehow got even bigger. "Uh... sergeant?"
"Yeah, what?"
"Why is he called Henry?"
"I have no idea," Lopez shrugged, "that's just what my medic called him. You good?"
Corlett looked up at Henry, and tightened his grip on his rifle. "Yeah, I'm good."
"Did they stop?" Sera asked, a little disappointed.
"I think so." Solas murmured.
Gil-Galad sighed with relief, "Finally. Now, can we get some work done? And maybe an explanation for the...cannon?"
Cassandra looked back at them, and walked over.
"The creature has been producing new weapons for us, as requested," she said, looking at Gil, "Weapons much like that of Lopez. They're not the same quality or type, but they produce thunder and flame all the same."
Lopez peered at the weapon on Henry's shoulder, "Hey, split-lip, why does that look like a plasma repeater?"
It took a second for Henry to understand "repeater". He pulled the weapon off his shoulder, making Corlett twitch, and passed it over.
Lopez studied it, finding the weapon to be mostly wood, much like early 20th century-style firearms.
The barrel came from the tubes aboard the Mona Lisa escape pod, designed not just to pump fuel, but could be converted into firearms. They could be made into muzzleloaders, or other designs depending on what remained of a starship after a crash.
In this case, due to possessing only the escape pod, the design should have been a muzzleloading musket. However, a certain friend of hers lended a hand to change it.
Henry seemed to have a distinct familiarity with muskets. Unusual, considering Sangheili considered use of human weaponry heretical. She'd seen elites with drained plasma rifles charge barehanded when fully loaded UNSC weaponry lay at their feet.
Perhaps it was his special ops background, or his experience on the Mona Lisa beat that ridiculous rule out of him. Or maybe it was different because he made it.
Regardless, while she was gone, he'd made more than a muzzleloader. He'd made a breech loading bolt-action cartridge rifle.
"Wow…" Lopez said, examining the workmanship. She opened the chamber, and withdrew a brass cartridge.
It was scorched around the neck, and the headstamp read, "MA 7.62 FMJ". The sergeant realized he had reloaded some of her spent cartridges. The tubes must've been designed for this.
She read it, "Sharky, how did you do this? How'd you do the cartridges? I have no idea how to make cartridges, and I don't even know if-"
He pulled out one of their CAA tablets, and pointed at the manual displayed. It had a diagram of a rifle cartridge and the primers, "I did it. With these."
"Wait, you made it from the photos? Just from the photos? I know they have instructions on doing this in those tablets, but so fast…?"
Henry shrugged, "So'e. No' all. Youth. Uncle. Eccentric."
"Your uncle taught you how to make rifle cartridges?"
He shrugged again, "Among other 'hings."
"God damn, your planet's fucked up." Lopez peered at the primer, and considered the design. It was a black powder cartridge, taken from the same supply they were using for the cannon.
Henry pointed at a mountain in the distance, one of those close to the Breach, "Mining complex. Mercury. For the cartridge primers."
Lopez nodded, "These chuckleheads need all the help they can get. They're heavily outnumbered, and fighting with fucking swords. If we can make them some more muskets and cannons, they could take on just about anybody."
"Armor useless. Useful against magic and Templars." Henry agreed, "Already made some muskets."
"Yes, we've been drilling them as much as possible," Cassandra nodded, turning to Gil-Galad, "We've been drilling mostly with wooden replicas, as per...his instructions, until we can make enough to supply a unit."
The elf nodded, "Excellent. How many do we have?"
"We're hoping to make a section's worth, soon."
Lopez raised an eyebrow, "Nearly twenty already? Where'd you get that much metal?"
"Templar graves." Henry said, leering.
Cassandra sighed, "We did get some old armor from some of our casualties from when the Breach first opened, but we also started melting down some of the armor of several volunteers."
Lopez nodded, "Might want to start melting down all of it. That armor's obsolete now."
She glanced at Henry's weapon again, and sighed, "I assume we can't make too many of these with local materials, can we?"
"Si. Advanced weapons hard to make. Muskets easy."
"Any way we can get him to stick with the sword?" Corlett muttered.
"Easy. We get the priority on reloaded cartridges, private." Lopez said, "You get that, alligator?"
Henry nodded, "Understood, Zhao."
Corlett raised an eyebrow. Who's Zhao?
"Wait a minute, you were melting down armor?" Gil-Galad asked, "What does Cullen think of this?"
"He's...not very happy." Cassandra said evenly.
"Who?" Lopez asked.
"Commander Rutherford?" Cassandra asked, "One of our tactical advisors?"
"The...blonde guy?" Lopez looked to one side, "I think I remember him. The ken doll. What does he have to do with anything?"
"He holds a certain amount of influence over our soldiers who were Templars," Solas said, "His opinion carries some weight."
"Ah, hell." Lopez muttered. "Why is he a tactical advisor? Henry, Corlett, and I are all you need."
"While you are certainly our primary tactical advisors, you have stated that you're unfamiliar with our weaponry." Cassandra said, "people such as him are still needed."
Lopez grimaced. She remembered the conversation now.
The blonde glorified thug had been a bit irritable upon finding out the Marine had been put in as the Inquisition's tactical advisor instead of him. But he'd also been happy to find out that despite the manuals the foreigners had, despite their advanced weaponry, even Henry didn't have much training in pre-firearm combat.
Lopez looked around at the Inquisition camp. The town was defended by a stone wall. Most of their troops were still equipped with swords.
"Well, that won't be the case for long, hopefully." Lopez grumbled.
They walked toward the main building of Haven. As they walked through the town, the party passed several improved forges, medical facilities, and more soldiers training.
There was a small water mill on the edge of town. Cassandra pointed it out, "That facility is being used to create more cannons and muskets. We're waiting on more material."
"Is that the powder mill?" Lopez gestured to a building next to the water mill.
"No," Henry said, and pointed out a hastily-made building across the valley. It was outside town up on a hill. He glared at Lopez, "Explosive, vermin."
"Hey, I don't know what you freaks know about gunpowder!" Lopez said, "Go to hell."
Henry spat a growl at her, and Lopez almost flinched.
"You kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh wait, you can't!"
Corlett wondered briefly if standing between them would help.
If I do that I should also check when I last updated my will…
Several people watched the new Marine as he went by, looking very curious.
If they considered Henry and Lopez to be messengers from the gods or whatever, what did they think he was?
Noticing some interesting expressions, he quickened his pace to stay close to Lopez.
Leliana, Josephine Montilyet, and the blonde idiot were waiting in the center of the building just inside and out of the cold.
"We gained the aid of the mages," Gil-Galad said, "It took some doing, but we did it."
"The mages?" Cullen asked, "mages? Do you have any idea what that could mean?"
He did a double take at Corlett, who just kind of waved.
"Oh great. Another one. And a boy at that. Seeker, please-"
"Okay, you just lost the right to be in this meeting." Lopez said, and pointed with her thumb to the door, "Get out."
Cullen folded his arms, "I'm not leaving, apostate. Now that they're all back they'll be able to help me get rid of-"
Lopez narrowed her gaze. "We're not getting rid of the guns! Que te folle un pez! Get the fuck out!"
"No matter what barbaric gibberish-!"
She grabbed his collar, and snarled something extremely harsh in a language only Corlett could identify as Chinese, and only he and Henry could barely translate, something along the lines of "Barbaric gibberish? You don't even have plumbing!"
Cullen's eyes went wide with confusion and shock and tried to twist out of her grip.
She switched back to her bad Common, "You have no idea who you're dealing with, ya little brat. You might be good with a few swords, but that's it. Don't you dare try to dictate policy or I will show you exactly what happens to Henry's buddies when they piss me off."
Still holding him steady with one hand, she pulled down the right side of her face pointing at her scar, "Look into my eye. Someone who looked like him gave me this. Henry was lucky. The other guy doesn't have a head. Or a torso. Or whatever the Elites have for genitals anymore."
"Okay-"
"You may hold a lot of weight around here, but you're just a racist jumped-up street cop. Your advice is acceptable for swords. Not for guns. And certainly not for mages, or any ethnic groups."
"I-"
"Get. The fuck. Out."
She turned, tossing Cullen to the door. He stumbled a bit, straightening up, straightening his uniform, and departing.
"Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out!" Corlett called after him.
Cassandra looked a little concerned, "This may have negative repercussions." she didn't seem overly worried, however.
"If he tries saying anything to his pals, I can just tell them about how I shook him up like a doll." Lopez said.
Gil-Galad smiled a bit. "That was very satisfying."
Lopez glanced at him. "Why?"
"Did you see? He still wears Templar insignia. He might say he's left them, but…"
Lopez nodded. "I gotcha."
Varric entered the room, looking at the departing Templar, "So what's he so upset about?"
"He's always cranky." Sera said, "Why should today be any different?"
"Good point. So, Solas said you needed me?"
Lopez looked at the elf.
Solas looked back at her, "He knows about Corypheus."
Varric's usual jovial sneer disappeared. "What did you say?"
Lopez took out the ONI patch, getting an odd sense of deja vu. "Gil-Galad, you want to fill us in on everything?"
She looked at him, "You never told us the exact details of your supposed time travel. I think now's a good time to spill the beans."
She opened one of her bags, pointing to the extra pair of ballistic goggles, "Like where you got all this extra equipment for instance."
All eyes turned toward the mage. Gil looked uncomfortable. He looked to the side.
Lopez put a hand on his shoulder, and spoke in a soft tone, "Hey, Gil...what is it?"
He was looking around at the rest of the group, the strangest look on his face, lingering on Solas, Sera, Iron Bull...and on Corlett.
Lopez's concern grew, "Gil...you said I blew myself up. You talked about my 'countrymen'."
Dorian cleared his throat, "If he's not willing to speak I will."
He turned to the group as a whole, "Alexius sent us one year into the future. A terrible future where the Inquisition failed to seal the Breach. They brought through terrible monsters, destroying all forces that would have stood in Alexius' way."
He gestured to Lopez and Corlett, "Both of you were killed immediately after we disappeared. Private, you were killed by a demon, and Lopez, you ran out of ammunition and blew yourself up."
Corlett's eyes widened, and he looked around frantically, confused.
Henry looked even more confused, glancing from him to Lopez.
Lopez grimaced, "...That sounds like me."
"Those of the Inquisition who remained were locked deep in Redcliffe, tortured and imprisoned." Dorian gestured to the group, "Sera, Solas, Iron Bull, and Leliana were the only ones we were able to find."
"Not the only ones." Gil-Galad murmured.
Dorian grimaced, "There were others. Others who had tried to fight the...well, fight Alexius' forces."
Dorian looked at Lopez, and gestured to the patch, "May I?"
She nodded hesitantly, and he took the patch, "This was from a woman named Lieutenant Taylor, belonging to the same organization Sergeant Lopez and Private Corlett do. She was some sort of intelligence officer-"
"Office of Naval Intelligence." Corlett corrected.
"Yes, thank you. She and one of her soldiers were imprisoned as well. The lieutenant was too badly injured to help us, but she sent her Marine with us. It seems there were many more...United Nations Space Command," he pronounced it carefully, "personnel who appeared in the year that followed. They attempted to fight Alexius, and were able to inflict significant damage, but were too outnumbered and under equipped to achieve victory."
The sky and clouds alike were shades of a sickly green color, and the horizon was dominated by The Breach. It had grown in the year since it arrived. Between the castle and it, chunks of buildings were defying gravity, and floating high in the air. On the ground, red lyrium was sprouting from the castle walls, and around the infection, the castle was beaten and battered in both a conventional and unconventional manner.
Much of it was under repair, scaffolding and hand-operated cranes scattered all over the area, but work was apparently progressing slowly.
There was a massive crater in the center of the courtyard, deeper than any effect any siege artillery the group knew of could make. Instead of being filled, planking had been lain across the pit.
Dug into the side of the crater was a large dark olive-drab-colored shape tilted at an angle, with a thick center, once-sleek nose, a pair of stubby wings jutting outwards, and a long thin tail extending skyward. An opaque canopy sat behind the nose, a mark like a spider web made into the glass-like material.
The center was a large troop compartment judging by the seats, with guns like the Warthog's weaponry mounted to either side.
Each wing ended in a pair of rectangular boxes angled forward, with three blades formed a screw on top of each one. The tail widened at the end, and sprouted four fins, two up, and two down. Despite rain damage, scorch marks, and more general abuse, along the sides of the tail "U.N.S.C." was clearly engraved. On the fins, faded images of a bird were printed, and various labels and numbers were still clear on the rest of the vehicle.
The gaunt dark-haired Marine climbed down into the crater, and pulled open the canopy. He coughed as the stench of death suddenly filled their nostrils.
"Just needed to be sure." Solas translated for the marine.
"We recovered what equipment of yours we could." Gil-Galad said quietly.
"Do you know how many of us there were?" Lopez asked.
"Not enough." Sera commented.
"Hey, I bet we did better than you." Lopez snapped.
Dorian spoke up rapidly, "We found Lieutenant Taylor, and one of her soldiers. She and Solas believed us when we explained what had happened, and they decided to give us a message."
He held up the patch, "a message that would give us information we would need to prevent this terrible future."
"Where did this come from?" Lopez asked, holding up the data chip.
Gil-Galad and Dorian exchanged looks.
They seemed to be avoiding Iron Bull's gaze.
"A...demon." Gil said eventually. "A pride demon. A very strange one. It was yellow, but glowed red and blue."
Dorian nodded, "We almost had to fight it, when…"
"Everyone calm down! It's just Stars-fall!" Sera called out.
Dorian glanced at her, "Excuse me?"
"I don't know his name, that's just all he says! I've seen him around when they moved me to other cells. He's harmless. I've seen some use him as target practice, nothing phases him."
Gil-Galad glanced at Solas, "You have anything to back that up?"
Solas shrugged, "I have seen it around, I have not heard it speak."
The gaunt Marine scratched his head, "I don't think that's a word…"
The demon stopped walking when he spoke, fixing its eyes on him.
All eyes fell on the marine.
"Private," Solas said, "Say something else."
"Solas, he doesn't look friendly! I've seen these things tear into Warthogs before!"
"It has reacted only to your speech. Say something."
The private grimaced, and reluctantly moved closer, "Hello! Big...demon guy!"
The demon went rigid. In a gravely distorted and flanging voice it uttered, "Rec-rec-rec-recognized: Beck, Shane R, Private First Class, Service Number 61551-82154-SB, United Nations Marine Corps. Age 26. Single Operator Lift Apparatus Specialist, 22nd Drop Jet Platoon. graduated Marine Corps Recruit Depot New Alexandria 2547."
Beck's eyes widened, "What the-?"
The demon slumped again, and continued shambling forward.
It started murmuring.
Sera gestured, "You see? That's where I get the name!"
Beck moved a bit closer as it walked by, close enough to hear what it was saying. One phrase, repeated over and over again.
"This is UNSC AI CRL 3454-4. Lest darkness fall. This is UNSC AI CRL 3454-4. Lest darkness fall. This is UNSC AI CRL 3454-4. Lest darkness fall."
Lopez looked at the data chip, "That's the AI registry for this chip! What happened to it?"
Gil-Galad scratched his head.
"The shadow has failed you. I'm sorry."
The entity fell to its knees. Numbers scrolled across its pupils, data streams flickering into existence across its body, and flashing red. In a mechanical tone, it spoke, "Warning: diagnostic indicates AI systems corrupted. Cognitive Impression corrupted. Primary memory unit compromised. Artificial Intelligence neural network cohesiveness failure. Unable to maintain unit stability. CRL 3454-4 has been damaged beyond repair. AI systems register as rampant. Beginning AI decommissioning procedures."
"What does that mean?" Dorian asked.
The Marine began cursing, "No, no no no!" he rushed forward, "No, c'mon, Carl! We need you! What happened? Where's your ship? Where-"
It spoke over him, "All primary systems compromised. Fatal system error. Collecting data for information dump. Initializing black box procedures. Beginning dump of physical memory to data crystal chip."
"No no stop! Don't dump-"
"Dumping physical memory to data crystal...25% complete."
Solas moved forward, "What is it doing, Private?"
"He's killing himself! Or he's dying! I dunno! I'm not a technician!"
"Dumping physical memory to data crystal...43% complete."
Solas grabbed the almost-hysterical Marine, "Stay calm. How can we stop it?"
"We can't!" the private moaned, "He's already gone!"
"Dumping physical memory to data crystal...78% complete."
"The data crystal, is it storing information on there?" Solas demanded.
"Yes, but I don't know where it is! Have you ever seen a demon with a data port?!"
"Dumping physical memory to data crystal...100% complete. Enacting Cole Protocol. Erasing operating system...complete."
The entity slumped. Abruptly, it flashed to life one final time. It looked right at Solas. It spoke, "Into the hole again, we hurried along our way, into a once-glorious garden now steeped in dark decay."
Lopez grimaced, then furrowed her brow at the last sentence, "I've never seen a rampant AI, but that seems unusual."
Gil-Galad grimaced, "The Marine helped us find the data crystal."
Dorian opened his mouth to say something, and Gil held up a hand, "We promised him not to say anything!"
"If it was promising the private-"
"No, we promised Iron Bull." Gil said.
"What?"
"Nothing!" Gil said loudly through gritted teeth.
"We managed to get back to the present, and brought the message with us," Dorian finished, "Now we must decode it."
The group was silent for a long time.
"What does this have to do with Corypheus?" Varric said loudly.
Dorian passed the patch to him, "The name is mentioned here."
"It says he equals the Elder One or something." Lopez commented.
Varric peered at the patch, and went dead white. "Well...shit."
"Hey, shorty, you alright?"
"I thought he was dead! He's a real creature!"
"What?!" Lopez snarled, glaring at the patch, then back at him, "I thought the Elder One was some kind of hokey religious thing! The stupid bitch put it right next to the Templar thing!"
"Who is he?" Gil asked.
"More like 'what'. Hawke and I fought him, he's a monster. A darkspawn." he looked around at the room, still pale. "We didn't think he was dead, he was dead! We stuck enough arrows in him to bring down a dragon-there was a body on the ground and everything." he shook his head. "He's serious bad news, if he's not dead…" Varric shrugged.
"What does the Templar part of the message mean, anyway?" Sera asked.
"The Templars have sided with Corypheus." Lopez said.
All eyes turned toward her.
She looked at them, "What?"
"How do you know that?" Solas asked.
"Isn't it obvious? The Templars are with Corypheus, and they have UNSC prisoners."
"Not necessarily. As Dorian said, the lieutenant was delirious when she wrote that message. Those words could have meant anything." Solas pointed out.
"No. That's what they mean. I trust my gut."
Solas tilted his head, "Very well."
"No matter the sergeant's personal feelings, we will need to investigate this." Leliana said, silent up to this point.
"What about Andraste and Dalish?" Cassandra asked, taking the patch herself.
"We need to send someone out to investigate that. There's something connecting your Jesus lady and the Dalish and we need to know what it is." Lopez said, then glanced at Cassandra. "Wait, I thought you couldn't understand English."
"I've been teaching her," Josephine said, "She had to understand your manuals."
Lopez nodded, "I guess that makes sense."
Iron Bull took the patch, asked Solas something, then scratched his head. "What does 'listen to the wolf' mean?"
Lopez shrugged, "That one I have no idea about. Lest Darkness Fall is some six-hundred year old book."
"And...B-Three-One-Two?"
"It's one of our aircraft." Corlett said smugly, his chest swelling, "A D77-TC Pelican dropship."
"Shut up, Corlett." Henry snarled.
"You shut up, Henry!" Lopez barked.
The space travelers went at it again, and Leliana studied them carefully.
"Sergeant Lopez." she started.
Lopez glanced over, looking as if she'd forgotten about her, "Yeah?"
"I assume you will want to find more of your friends?"
Lopez crossed her arms, "What's it to you?"
"I'm just curious."
Lopez rolled her eyes, "Oh, drop the act."
"Hey! We need to deal with Corypheus!" Varric interrupted, "Does anyone have an idea?"
Gil-Galad glanced at Lopez, "We must deal with one problem at a time, we need to seal the Breach. But we also need to prepare for what comes next. I think the sergeant and her friends have the right idea. We must gather resources and allies, but we must also build more of their weaponry."
"Need 'etal," Henry said, "'aterials."
"We're also going to need to get another Warthog." Lopez said, "Strategic mobility, for at least getting messengers around, is important."
"You only have two drivers." Solas pointed out.
"Hey Henry, can you drive?" Lopez asked in their broken language.
Henry shrugged, "Can learn."
"Three, then. I'm not teaching anyone else. But I- we can get more drivers if we get more personnel out of the freezers. And find more freezers."
Leliana made an odd expression. "We have had reports of more...devices, with your markings on them. We might have some leads for you."
"Way ahead of you." Lopez said, gesturing to her tablet. "But I suppose your reports might be able to help us figure out if anyone else is awake like Corlett."
XXXXX
The meeting broke up hours later. Lopez decided to take a walk.
She walked out of Haven's front gates, watching the new units training with fake muskets. She paused by one of the drilling units in the block formation.
"Squad, forward...march!" the Inquisition sergeant roared. The troops marched forward carefully, some of them slightly off step.
One tripped and stumbled a bit as they spotted the Marine approaching.
"Squad, halt!" the Inquisition Non-Commissioned Officer(NCO) snapped, and stepped up to the stumbling soldier.
"What are you doing, private?" they demanded.
"I...I tripped on something in the snow, sergeant!" the soldier stammered, their teeth chattering.
"You keep tripping on things! I think you're relaxing! You think just because I can't see you, you can get away with this?"
"N-no sergeant!"
The Inquisition NCO pushed the trooper over, "Looks like you tripped again, recruit! Hey, get that weapon out of the snow!"
The recruit tried to get to his feet, and tried to keep their block of wood out of the snow, "Sergeant, it's just a piece of wood-"
"Real muskets," he pronounced the word strangely, Lopez noted he was using the English word, "...are valuable! You will treat this as a real piece no matter how much your feet are hurting!"
Lopez grimaced. Something was wrong here. He wasn't beating the soldier up, which was more than she could've hoped for. A little physical exchange was tolerable for drilling. She knew one poor recruit back in UNSC training who said to the drill sergeant that he couldn't concentrate while they were yelling, and the sergeant had pointed out that if the recruit couldn't tolerate shouting, he shouldn't be on the battlefield.
That UNSC drill sergeant had slapped the recruit repeatedly on the back of the head, shouting "how's this for distraction?"
That had gotten the message across, but the drill sergeant had been warned and didn't go that far again as far as she remembered. Abuse and injury was not to be tolerated in drilling, even if it was something as small as that.
Something was off here, more than just a shove.
"Now, I don't want any more whining! Straighten up! Present arms!"
The soldiers stood straight up, holding their musket replicas in front of them vertically against the body.
"Order arms!"
The soldiers lowered their blocks of wood to right sides, the bottoms held to the ground.
"Load!" They leaned the weapons to one side and reached for their back pockets.
"Handle!" they mimed pulling something out and putting it to their mouths.
"Tear!" They made a pulling motion.
"Charge!" They mimed pouring something down the fake barrel.
"Draw!" An imaginary object was drawn out from under the barrel.
"Ram!" The same object was shoved down the barrel.
"Return!" the fake device was returned to its position.
"Ready!" They lifted the replicas to above the waist in both hands, the point forward and pointed slightly upwards, on a level with the eye.
"Aim!" they raised the weapons to their shoulders, looking down the sights.
"Fire!" all mimed pulling the trigger.
The drill sergeant growled angrily, "Come on! What are you doing?!"
Several of the soldiers looked to be in a bit of pain.
Lopez stepped up, and the drill sergeant turned to look at her, about to snap.
When he recognized the foreign letters on her chest plate, and chevrons on her shoulders, the NCO's face went white.
"Uh...uh...champion!"
"Sergeant Lopez, not 'lady', not 'champion'. What on earth are you doing?" Lopez's voice was low and soft, the calm before the storm.
The NCO scowled, "Drilling these fools! They can't seem to do anything right!"
"While they're certainly sloppy, that might have something to do with the fact that several of your soldiers are bleeding in the snow!"
She pointed at the ground the squad was standing on. There were many bloody footprints over the muddy ground and over the white snow.
Several members of the squad were in shoes, but many wore rags wrapped around their feet.
"Get them a goddamn medic!" She snarled, and pointed at several of the soldiers with shoes, "you two, carry that woman! You two, carry him!"
She detailed out the able bodied members of the squad to carry those who were bleeding.
Lopez rounded on the drill sergeant, "What were you luddites thinking? They could lose their toes!"
The Inquisition NCO looked confused, "uh... ma'am, this is the way it always is. Not all our soldiers can afford shoes!"
"Can't afford shoes-? How the hell are they supposed to march? To walk? To do anything?"
"Well, we...you can't expect us to-"
Lopez's confusion turned into outrage. She facepalmed, groaning.
I fucking hate Luddite planets.
She'd forgotten how many armies historically paid for their own equipment. So many things she took for granted, so much stuff she had to introduce. She had to look at the manuals again.
Lopez sighed, "no one's doing any drills until we can find some shoes for everyone! Or at least have something to protect them so they're not bleeding everywhere! I need these units to be able to maneuver."
"Uh...yes ma'am!"
"And don't call me that! I work for a living."
Lopez stormed off. They had a lot of work to do.
She scowled at the Breach in the sky.
"And there's that thing to worry about." She muttered.
Rolling her eyes, she pulled the ONI patch out of her pocket, "and I have to find the rest of you folks."
She'd made a bunch of mistakes lately. She'd taken so many things for granted, and pretty much refused to pay attention to the local politics that closely. Forgetting the blonde moron was proof of that.
The sergeant grimaced. She was an experienced NCO, but she was just one woman. There was so much she needed to remember.
She sighed a long irritated sigh. She looked out across the lake.
"I need a drink."