The third chapter. This marks the arrival of the first new character.
The Spartan Chronicles
Chapter 3: The Recruit
Choir was curled up into the fetal position in the corner of the main hallway of the base. "I don't want to die here. I'm too young, handsome, and brilliant to die now. I especially don't want to die alone in a God-forsaken hellhole like this one. The crushing loneliness of this place is destroying me from the inside. I can already feel myself going mad. Already, my mind is wasting away to oblivion!"
Clearly, Choir had lost it at this point. His mad rambling continued for five minutes before he heard a small rustle from the nearby flora followed by a shout.
"Hello? Is anyone here?"
Choir sprang to his feet instantly at the sound of another human voice. He rushed over to the doors of the compound and flung them open to find another soldier in standard issue armor. This soldier was surprised to see another person on this planet. "Oh my… wow. Another soldier. I thought I might have been sent down for nothing. Oh, um, who are you, anyway?"
"My name is Choir: CCC Blue Captain. And you are?"
"Oh, uh, my name is Cookie, in-training recruit and new meat on the Gamma squad mobile training vessel."
Cookie was a squirrelly kind of guy, like a distant cousin to Woody Allen. He was never too sure of himself and had strange mannerisms to his speech. At least he seemed eager to please.
"Wait. Hold on, um, just a moment. You are the captain of Blue Team? Then that must mean that you're the brother of Sacer. You are the brother to the Blue Blur. Oh my… uh, I'm in the presence of greatness. This is so exhilarating!"
"Easy there, new guy. First things first; how did you get here?"
"Oh, um, well, I was training with the Gamma squad and our commanding officer told us that there was activity on this planet. He told me it would be a training special ops mission. So they, uh, sent me down here to find the source of the activity. The thing is, they didn't give me any way of communicating with the mobile training vessel. I think they sent me here just to get rid of me."
"Well, that would make two of us. I'm just glad to see another human being again. I thought I was going to go insane down here."
"Um, how long have you been here?"
"About five minutes. But that's not the point; the point is that we will no longer go mad of loneliness. Now I can die here from a real cause like starvation."
"Um, have you checked the base cafeteria?"
"… The what now?"
"The cafeteria. I think it would be on the first floor of the base and to the left. How much of the base have you actually looked at?"
"I didn't really explore it so much as I fell to the ground and tried to cry myself to sleep."
The two Spartans walked into the base and checked out the facilities. There was, sure enough, a cafeteria with some provisions, but it wouldn't last for long, a season at best between two men. There was a sleeping quarters upstairs along with the base armory. This had a limited stock of ammunition and only a few guns of low grade. Choir preferred his SMGs anyway. Across from the armory, there was a small room with a few computers; this was the Comm. room, but its capacity was very limited. The right side of the downstairs area was the reinforced section of the base and doubled as a conference room. This area could stand almost any assault even if the rest of the base were to crumble. The area to the right of the base was on a downhill slope, so the fort section could hold off an attack from that side effectively with only a few good men.
"So, um, captain Choir, what is the plan of action now?"
"The only thing there is left to do: send out a distress signal and prey."
Well, there it is. The third chapter in Choir's living hell. Honestly, how much trouble can one little distress signal cause? Stay tuned for more TSC (eventually), Same Zanzibar place, same Zanzibar time. Review me and let me have some input.