A team can work better together if they know each other, strangers don't trust well...
McArthy's eyes slowly opened, a yawn escaping his mouth. He stretched his arms and legs, instantly feeling the bite of the cold air. He leaned up to see the lamp was extremely dim, probably low on power.
Suddenly, he realized he could barely feel his toes. McArthy jumped up, then grabbed a hold of the lamp and sat down, sitting it on top of his feet and hugging it to his chest. It still had some warmth coming out of it, but not nearly as much as before. Still, he was slowly regaining the feeling in his toes, along with slightly warming up the rest of his body.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps creep into the cave, then turned to see the skirmisher walk around the bend, a strange small animal in its grip. McArthy stared at it, then realized the skirmisher was staring at him cuddling a lamp like a pillow.
He quickly pushed it away from his body, clearing his throat while standing up, then watched the skirmisher shrug its shoulders. The skirmisher then bit into the animal, tearing off a chunk of meat and swallowing it in seconds. After a moment of eating, it eyed him, then presented the animal forwards.
McArthy nervously chuckled, then raised his hands and said, "No, I'm good. Can't eat raw stuff. Ya know, weak little human stomach."
The skirmisher stared blankly at him, then turned back to the animal and began eating more of it. McArthy averted his eyes, not interested in seeing that display. Once it finished, he heard it toss whatever was left of the creature aside, then it walked over to the lamp.
McArthy watched as it lifted the lamp up, opening it and pulling the battery out. It put the lamp down, then grabbed one of the plasma pistols from its hip and quickly took it apart before him. It pulled out a battery from the weapon, then carefully plugged it into the inside of the lamp, returning the glow to it.
The skirmisher tossed the plasma pistol aside, then turned the lamp off. Once it was done, the skirmisher peeked up at McArthy, who was carefully watching it. It let out a caw, then simply stood straight up and stretched their arms.
McArthy tried to think of how to communicate his plan with it, then simply repeated a writing gesture and said, "I have a plan. Can you just follow me?"
He watched the skirmisher tilt its head, then it asked, "Follow?"
McArthy's stared at the skirmisher, caught off guard by how well it just said that word. He shrugged it off, however, then nodded and said, "Yes, follow me. I got a plan to help us communicate."
After a few seconds of mutual staring, the skirmisher quickly nodded its head with an enthusiastic squawk. McArthy smiled under his helmet, then took his smg off his hip and made his way out of the cave. After a few steps, he turned to see the skirmisher following closely behind him. They were still unarmed, however, which worried McArthy.
He stopped before they got far, then turned to the skirmisher. He gestured to his weapon, then asked, "Don't you have a weapon? A gun? Something?"
The skirmisher and him stared at each other, then it let out a chirp and brushed past him, pushing him off a bit. McArthy took a step to the side as he watched the skirmisher, only to realize there was a weight relief on his left leg. He dipped his head down, only to see his pistol was now gone.
He looked back up at the skirmisher, who was holding his pistol and expertly checking it before giving a huff of approval and waiting for him to continue. McArthy was about to complain, but quickly stifled himself. The skirmisher was the one being hospitable, he could handle letting it use his pistol for now.
McArthy walked ahead of the skirmisher, now leading them through the forest the best he could. He couldn't exactly tell the bird where they were going, but he assumed it would recognize the terrain once they were close.
The two wandered through the forest, McArthy having to stop every few minutes to make sure he knew where he was going. Despite their stops, the skirmisher didn't seem to mind. That was a relief to McArthy. If they were going to try and stay alive together and not understand each other, patience would be a necessity for the both of them.
After some time walking, they once again stumbled upon the stream of corpses. McArthy let out a sigh, then turned to the skirmisher and asked, "I don't even know what happened here, man, were you involved in this?"
The skirmisher perked up at his question, then quickly shook its head with a squawk. McArthy lowered his head, then said, "Yeah, of course you weren't involved in this."
The skirmisher squawked, shaking its head again. McArthy looked at it, confused, then asked, "What, so were you involved? Are you understanding me?"
The skirmisher stared at him, then shook its head and approached some of the humans corpses across the stream. McArthy looked on, curious, then hopped over the stream with elite corpses and followed it. He watched as the skirmisher slowed down next to a marine, checking it's body carefully, then flipped the body over. McArthy was going to try and tell it off, but he could tell it was trying to communicate something important.
The skirmisher pointed at the body, which McArthy quickly analyzed. The marine was a woman, looked to have been dead for many weeks, with a massive hole going right through her skull. It was a shot from a beam rifle, and a clean one at that.
He then watched as the skirmisher pointed at the body, then pointed at itself. It made this gesture multiple times, confusing McArthy.
He confusedly pointed at the body and asked, "What, did you kill her?"
The skirmisher stared at him, then shook its head and made the gesture again. McArthy was stumped, so he gave the bird a simple shrug of his shoulders. It made an obvious huff, then raised a finger as it approached the next closest marines body. It observed the corpse for a moment, then pointed at it.
McArthy peered at this one as well. It was a man, with a gaping hold in his abdomen, torn apart by a large barrage of plasma fire. He was about to ask a question, but he was interrupted as the skirmisher made another squawk. It then pointed at the marine's corpse, then pointed at him.
Still confused, McArthy watched it repeat the gesture, then it walked over to the woman's body, pointing at it, then pointed at itself. It kept making the consecutive gestures, until it clicked for McArthy.
He nodded his head, then said, "Oh, I think I got it. I said man, but you're not a man, are you?"
He heard it let out a sigh of relief, then it nodded its head. McArthy chuckled to himself, then said, "Sorry, I may be more knowledgeable about aliens than most, but telling the surface level difference between male and female is beyond me."
The two stared at each other silently for a few moments, then McArthy's body drooped as he said, "Yup, and you still can't understand a word I'm saying."
He heard a squawk of amusement come from the skirmisher, then he bobbed his head and said, "Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. Getting a good laugh is something neither of us will be doing much of in this situation."
McArthy sighed, then nodded his head at the hill and continued leading them towards the base. As they went, one of the bodies they passed caught his eye, and he stopped to observe them. He heard the skirmisher give him a questioning chirp, then he simply held up a finger as he walked towards the body.
What caught his attention as the marine's weapon. It was a sniper rifle, though it's barrel was completely bent. The gun itself was useless, but that's not what he was interested in. He pulled the gun from the body's cold grasp, then grabbed onto the rifle's scope and ripped it off of the gun. He crouched back down, placing the rifle back into the body's arms, then he stood up and brought the scope to his eyes.
His visor had a built in magnification, but this sniper scope would be able to give him a much better view from even further away. He gave a grunt of approval, then placed the scope into his sack he swung around. He secured the sack onto his back, then walked back and continued with the skirmisher to the base.
The two walked through the broken fence, stepping into the base's courtyard. McArthy turned to the skirmisher and said, "If you can watch my back, I'll go get what I hope is in this place."
The skirmisher looked blankly at him, then McArthy simply gestured around the base and said, "Defend me."
Luckily, the skirmisher got it that time, then nodded her head and jumped onto the roof of the base. McArthy turned and walked through the destroyed garage door, leading right into the research room. He walked past the dismantled and destroyed devices until he reached the desks and shelves in the back of the room.
He placed his smg on his thigh, then opened the first drawer. Right in that drawer sat a journal with two pens rolling next to it, folders sitting below the journal. McArthy smiled as he picked up the book and pens, then curiously flipped through the journal, wondering if it had any information on the devices in the room.
With a quick flip through, he confirmed only the first ten pages were written in, the rest left completely blank. He flipped to the first page and began reading. If it was nothing too important, maybe he could use this as a way to help teach the skirmisher English.
Written on the first page was what looked like a lot of unimportant cataloguing, dates, and short useless descriptions. The second page, however, held something more curious.
"Entry 1 of Doctor Philis Cosbrow's personal journal, date: August 25th, 2548. I've recently arrived at Testing Facility Beta 3, where we shall be staying until we either push back the Covenant forces, or the more likely end result, are ordered to evacuate. The base is crude, my own research room has direct access to the outside, not very safe in my opinion. But, this will do fine. Despite all this mayhem, there is some good news. The spartan, Kai, I believe, is incoming to protect the facility and become a test subject for our work on upgrading Mjolnir armor. After all the work I've done for the energy shielding prototype was finished, I was moved to my current work, upgrading the communications system. Feels like an utter downgrade, but hey, at least I wasn't fired. Actually, getting fired doesn't sound too bad. If I got fired, I'd probably be back on Tribute by now, but unfortunately, I am stuck on this backwater planet, which is now under Covenant attack. Fantastic. For now, my work cannot be extracted safely, so all I can do is continue my work and await further orders. Hopefully the people in charge know what they're doing. My confidence in UNSC command has gone down the last few years, but I guess we shall see if they prove me wrong then."
McArthy huffed as he finished reading what was on the first page, then looked to his left to see the skirmisher standing right next to him. He jumped with a yell, almost throwing the journal in surprise. The skirmisher squawked in surprise, jerking back from his yell.
McArthy hung his head as he calmed his nerves, then chuckled and said, "Don't scare me like that. We may be buddies, but you still look just like the ones trying to kill me."
The skirmisher opened and closed their beak in a mocking fashion, then gestured to the journal. McArthy nodded his head, then placed it on the desk in front of them and said, "This is for you to write. Now, can you?"
He presented one of the pens to the skirmisher, who curiously took the pen, then turned to the journal. McArthy opened it to a blank page, then said, "Ok, so if you can write, lets get introductions out of the way, hm? You have a name?"
The skirmisher turned to him, then brought the pen down to the paper and began scribbling something. Surprisingly, she was writing English, though it wasn't exactly the nicest handwriting. Once she was done, she lifted the pen. The paper read, "Mim 'Tol."
He stared at the name, then nodded and said, "Very alien. Mim, is it?"
The skirmisher vigorously nodded their head, then said, "Mim, name."
Shen then pointed at him, gesturing at the paper. He nodded his head, then wrote, "McArthy" down on the paper. Mim looked at it, then tilted their head. He chuckled, not surprised at her confusion, then she croaked out, "Mc...Carthy?"
He nodded his head and said, "Close enough. Well, it's nice to meet you, Mim."
He held his hand out towards her, not really expecting her to understand the gesture. But, she did, as she grasped his hand and shook it. Once their hands separated, Mim turned back to the paper and began writing again. McArthy watched curiously, then she lifted the pen to reveal the question, "All name?"
McArthy looked at the question, confused, then froze. After a few seconds of pure silence, he shook his head, then simply nodded and said, "Yeah, that's my name. McArthy is it."
After a moment of thinking, McArthy turned to Mim and asked, "So, what was up with those jackals yesterday? Only two of them had guns."
She stared at him, then he turned to the paper and wrote his question down. He watched as she looked at the words, then she wrote, "Prisoners." next to his question. If he was understanding her right, those jackals were prisoners of the Covenant. That would explain their lack of munitions, along with their bloodlust. Most jackals wouldn't have been that aggressive, especially without weapons.
McArthy wrote another question down, then repeated it and asked, "Why are you fighting against the Covenant?"
She stared at the words as she listened to the question, then wrote down the words, "Friend, Sil, Influence."
He grunted as he looked at the words. This answer was the closest he was going to get, at least for now. From the looks of it, she was influenced to leave the Covenant from a friend. Maybe Sil was a name, but he knew it wasn't a word, at least in English.
He shrugged his shoulders, not really needing to know much more. The Covenant was waging a genocidal war against humanity for no reason, anyone with a lick of common sense wouldn't take part in that.
A sudden chill went down McArthy's spine, giving him a bad feeling. McArthy grabbed the book from the desk, then shut it and said, "We can continue this back at the cave. This place is dangerous."
Before he could move, Mim shook her head and grabbed the journal from his hand. McArthy pulled his hand back, but too late. She had snatched the book and opened it back on the desk, then took the pen and began writing something.
Once she was done, she spun it towards McArthy, on it were the words, "Place safe."
He stared at the words, still feeling a chill running down his spine. Maybe it was just the freezing cold getting to him, but he was still not taking the chance. Gut feelings have saved his life more than once.
McArthy sighed, then said, "Okay, how about we come back later? Two days. Just to make sure the area is clear, I don't have a good feeling right now."
Mim stared at him, then he sighed and turned to the journal. He quickly wrote down what he said, then watched Mim carefully read over it. After a few seconds, he saw a soft nod of her head, then she shut the book, turned to him and said, "Fine."
McArthy sighed with relief, then gestured for her to follow him as they left. He wanted to ask her so many things, about the dismantled devices, the spartan, the battle, but for now those questions had to wait. If anything, he was curious how she knew any English at all. He knew some Covenant soldiers knew it, but for her to know only so little was weird. Maybe she wasn't taught and simply picked up a few words and writing through experience with humans.
McArthy huffed in amusement at the thought. Perhaps she did have contact with other humans, she was being hunted after all, like him. Though he knew any human she might've tried to be friendly with would've been even more confused than him, seeing how at that point Mim would've known no English, and the Covenant would've still been on the attack.
As the two walked through the broken fence, then began making their way back down to the stream. As they walked, they began seeing the bodies again.
McArthy gestured to all the bodies and asked, "Do any of these guys have rations left?"
Mim looked at him blankly, then he sighed, swung his sack around, and pulled out one of his last two MRE's. These last two were dry ones, he could eat them right out of the bag. They left the worst taste in his mouth, which is why he left them for last. He gestured to the MRE, then gestured to the bodies again and asked, "Any more?"
He watched as Mim gazed out at the bodies, then shook her head. She pointed at herself, then he watched her feathers droop a little as she hung her head a bit. He immediately recognized the emotion, then laughed to clear the air and said, "No problem. We all have to survive, you just got here first. I'll make due."
Mm's head rose a bit from his tone, then the two began their trek back to the cave.
This time around, McArthy had a better feel for the environment, only having to check around a couple of times to be sure. Mim happily let him acquaint himself with their environment, which he was happy for. Though it seemed like purely unfair prejudice now, he assumed most of her kind would've been very impatient and very curt. This idea sprang from his simple observance of jackals and skirmishers on the battlefield, seeing them as quick soldiers with little patience for the grunts around them.
Either he was completely wrong, or he was lucky enough to find a diamond in the rough. Either way, it was a very comforting attitude.
Once the two reached the cave, the sun was almost halfway in the air. The temperature was basically as hot as it would get, yet still every strong breeze made McArthy's body shiver. As they walked into the cave, another thought struck McArthy. He must stink like nothing else. He hasn't taken this stuff off, it was too cold too. And a bath would be impossible without avoiding frostbite, at least given his survival skills. For now, he'd just have to deal with it. It's not like it was that massive of an issue, more like an annoyance.
He watched as Mim walked over to the alien lamp, then she turned it on and scooted it into the middle of the cave. McArthy laid his back against the cave wall and fell to a sit. Mim suddenly tossed his pistol back to him, though he luckily caught it before it struck him in the face.
He grunted as he holstered the weapon, then swung his sack into his lap. He was getting hungry, and thirsty. Water wasn't an issue, still, but rations were worrying him. He only had two dry MRE's left.
He pulled one out, opening it up, then removed his helmet and began to eat the MRE's contents. He noticed Mim was watching him closely, specifically eyeing the bag. She took a step closer, seemingly sniffing the air, then she let out a squawk of and stared at the bag.
McArthy chuckled, then raised it up and said, "Yeah, not very appetizing. But, it's got to do."
Mim took a step closer, sniffing the packet, then simply huffed and walked around the cave bend. Suddenly, McArthy heard the sound of her shooting off, running to who knows where.
The deep feeling of loneliness slowly crept over McArthy, but he quickly shook the feeling away. She'd be back, and he knew there was a good reason she'd bolt out of here like that.
It only took 30 minutes before he heard the sounds of footsteps entering the cave. He turned his gaze from the lamp, only to see Mim walk in, dragging the corpse of some native animal behind her. There was a large chunk missing from the neck, and it looked like she already drained the corpse of most of its blood.
McArthy watched as she dropped the body and gestured to it, then at the lamp. McArthy nodded, understanding her. He could use the lamp to cook the meat. She must've taken the hint when he didn't eat her raw prey beforehand.
He did feel slightly touched, then walked over to the body and said, "You didn't really have to. The MRE's suck, but they aren't that bad. Either way, though, thanks."
He reached his hand around his waist, then unsheathed the buck knife he had strapped there. He didn't know how to use it well in combat, but for cutting up an animal? As bad as his father was, he did teach McArthy one or two things, this being one of them.
Mim walked further into the cave and watched curiously as McArthy began cutting into the animal. It was alien, but he's seen natives eat them while deployed on the planet, so he knew they were edible, and he knew where to cut them.
As he cut away at the creature, he wondered if skirmishers even ate cooked food. Maybe they had a preference, and he didn't want to cook the whole thing without knowing first. The things he learned about these animals was that they had few actually good places to eat, such as their thighs. The exact reason why, he didn't know, but that just meant that despite the creature's deer-like size, he wasn't going to get much meat off it.
After about an hour of cutting, his inexperience with the animal hindering him from being faster, he finally had a nice few slabs that were ready to be cooked. He carefully lifted one, then turned to Mim, waving it, and jokingly asked, "You like it raw?"
She stared at him, then he watched her lick her chops and nod her head. McArthy shuddered slightly, his joke backfiring from her unexpected reaction, then he simply hovered the slab for her to take. She walked forward, swiping the meat from his hands, then he watched her turn around and dig into it, almost purposely hiding her eating from his view.
McArthy took the rest and brought them over to the lamp, looking at it curiously. It had a flat top, so he could just sit the slabs on top of it to cook them. He placed them on top, then played with the knob on the side. In one twist, he activated the lamp and made it glow violently bright, hurting his eyes.
He took a step back in discomfort, slowly getting his eyes used to the new light. A new warmth radiated from the lamp, slowly passing through the cave. McArthy's body let out a shiver as he moved closer, feeling the cold disappear. He used his buck knife to poke and pry the meat, making sure it got cooked properly.
He heard some sort of whine, then turned to see Mim holding the journal up, staring at him. McArthy grunted, then said, "Once I'm done here, we'll go over more English. Maybe you can read those first few pages, get used tor reading."
He watched as she looked at him, barely understanding what he said, then he said and stepped towards her. His quick approach put Mim on edge, her feathers visibly standing on end, so he slowed his pace. He carefully plucked the journal from her grip, then opened it to the first written page. He then handed it back and pointed at the words.
Mim looked a the words, then McArthy pointed back at the meat and said, "I need food first. Then, I'll help."
After a few seconds, Mim nodded her head, then scooted back to the wall and sat down. She began staring intently at the page, getting a sigh of relief from McArthy. He turned back and tended to the cooking food.
He didn't know how long they'd be stuck on this planet, maybe she would be able to fully learn English soon. McArthy simply wanted a full conversation, but at least he wasn't trapped here with some wild animal. Mim was intelligent, probably smarter than him, they just didn't speak the same language. And she was patient with him, which filled him with a whole other level of appreciation. They were enemies, once, so he's glad she wasn't as aggressive as he'd expected.
He turned his thoughts back towards the meat. Without seasonings of any kind, this was going to taste bland, but it was definitely going to be better than his MRE's. He remembered how Mim foully smelled them, then immediately turned around to get them something better. She must've hunted like that thousands of times to be so quick.
McArthy wasn't a survival expert, so he was glad to have been found by someone with experience. Once he finishes cooking the meat, McArthy was going to have to help Mim learn his language. Though he wasn't trained to be a teacher, it would be a nice change in pace. It would probably be the focus of his life at the moment really, seeing as their only goal was to just stay alive.
Once she knew enough, McArthy would finally get some answers to his many questions, and he only hoped she'd oblige him with the knowledge. For now, however, he had to focus on simply teaching, which was going to be a struggle.
McArthy turned to look at Mim as he thought, seeing her focused eyes staring at the journal, carefully reading every word. She was very determined, as it seemed, to learn his language. She probably knew how important communication would be as well, but there was a fiery spark in her he really admired. McArthy didn't see much of that as of lately, seeing how badly the UNSC's ass has been getting kicked.
Then again, as of lately he's been trapped in this freezing forest world. He began to think back to his team. If they were with them, things would be so much easier. So much more comfortable. But, as he looked back at the determined alien bird staring needles into the journal, he let out a small chuckle. Though he wished he had his team with him, he wasn't going to complain about what he had now.
With his food now ready, he used his knife to hold the meat, taking a bite from the slab directly. Mim noticed he had finished cooking, and laid the journal out as he walked over to sit across from her, then he slowly began doing his best to teach her the way of the English language.