AN: This is my take on life today in reality and in our future on this planet. Of course combined with a favourite game; HALO. Hopefully I'll have balanced some of my darker thoughts with light fantasy. Enjoy, and please, review! Dieu et mon Droit!

Chapter 3

The Chinook touched down at the Israeli Naval base at Atlit in the early hours of the morning. The base buzzed with activity. The famed Shayetet 13 was stationed here. The elite Israeli naval commando unit that had breached and cleared the Karine A, a Palestinian 'freighter' which had been found to carry long, to medium range offensive weapons as well as firearms destined for the Israeli-Palestinian war. Men ran back and forth dressed in black Commando uniform.

"Zac, come on, our quarters are this way. You can grab a shower if you need it and a change of clothes. You can pick up equipment later."

I followed as the Commander, Oost, walked off towards a barracks in the centre of the compound. As I walked away I glanced back into the belly of the Chinook just in time to see the woman in aviators standing nonchalantly against the metal interior. Before I could get a better look, the tailgate closed and the Chinook rose into the air.

The dust and dirt that flew about in the air made me turn my back and I hurriedly followed Oost into the barracks.

As I stepped into the corridor I blinked my eyes as they adjusted to the gloom.

"Oost"

I shook my head, I didn't even know this guy and yet I talked like we were best mates. The big soldier turned to face me.

"Oost, look, I don't mean to be insulting, but, I'm a German soldier working in Turkey for Schemen Kompanie, I'm not sure how long ago, but I was sipping Vodka, and watching 'Die Knappen' play footy. Then I'm on a ship with a f**k off headache and..."

I trailed off. My mouth moved but no sound emerged. I felt weak. I was no ponce but Christ, I had no idea what had happened in the past few hours, days I don't know... Oost swapped position standing cross armed ahead of me. He scratched his head.

"Look I'll tell you all I know; I'm a marine based in the British Consulate in Casablanca. I was given orders to report to an NATO Air Base inland. I went, got told by memo to get on a heli'. The pilot told me we were headed for a Tanker in the Atlantic, showed me a mug shot of you, your name and a few details. We got there I dropped, and found you easily actually, against the side of a crater. I took you back up. In the heli on the way here we heard the news, the Peak Oil, you've heard it before. But it's worse."

A bead of sweat trickled down the man's nose.

"In my words and in the words of Prof. Allan McGloughlin 'We have failed to get off our fix of fossil fuels.' We've had 20 years to deal with this fossil fuel-global warming s**t and we've done F all. We use oil in a lot more than its liquid form. It is, no exaggeration, the lynchpin of society and industry. Christ we use the stuff for everything. Electricity, heating, transport. Losing it all? That's one hell of a blow. Even now with what little we have we'll get by for a while. Now in the heat of the moment, the guys at the top wanna do something. That something is replace oil. We don't have Fusion, dark matter, solar or thermal in their highest forms so their, at least for now inadequate. What the government want is a quick fire replacement inside the next 6 months. It's the god damn Hirsch report word for f*****g word."

The hallway was quiet. The bloke seemed to look a bit self conscious. Muttering he turned and continued walking up the hall towards the room. Raising my eyebrows I followed hurriedly although considerably staggered by the synopsis.

We walked into a prefab metal walled room. It was about the size of a typical Hotel suite and for a warzone, impressively furnished for us. In opposite ends of the room were single beds, with mattresses and sheets. At the foot of each was a dark green plastic chest that could be snapped open. In the corner was a small living area type place. It had a small sofa and chair with a coffee table and small TV. A couple of Jerry cans were filled with water in the corner but we would be expected to eat at the canteen at the appropriate times.

Two small square windows were fitted above the two beds and a slightly bigger one was between the beds and could be opened a little. Besides that, the bed was devoid, but for a small layer of sand on the floor. It was better than I had expected and grinned broadly despite my situ. At least I had a decent cot.

"The showers are just over there."

He pointed to a small cluster of cubicles outside of the window with shower heads above them.

I nodded gratefully at him. Maybe he was at fault in some way for this jacks**t I was in, but I was being looked after. After all I was a soldier and would follow my orders. My only conflict was that from whom I was taking orders had no affliction with Schemen Kompanie or the German Military. Should I not ask why I was not being reassigned back to a German Unit?

I walked to the cubicles and stood and turned on the shower. I was showering in the middle of a FOB. Soldiers went back and forth not looking twice at me showering stark naked. Of course the cubicle offered a little privacy but not a lot. This was army life. In a way soldiering in Turkey had not been so difficult as I could sleep in my bunk with little worry of an enemy assault and shower in my own bathroom.

The sharp pain I had felt on the Chinook returned. It was like my veins were moving up to the skin surface. Wincing I looked down at the inside of my arm. To my surprise I saw some dark scripture. Rubbing at it painfully I swore as if a reflex but then realised that it was in fact a tattoo! It was writing in a very small font. Hebrew. It said 'Not all who wander are lost. Your purpose may not be know but to others it is set in stone. Trust brother.'