Dressed in newly acquired pristine UNSC forest-green, Marine combat fatigues, Chips Dubbo and Avery Johnson stood at the forefront of their own respective column of mix-mash personnel from the Navy and Marine Corp.
In between the two columns stood a double-row group of just 21 Elites, their ranks and armor, organized with seniority at the forefront and the lower ranks at the rear.
At the forefront of this column stood the Arbiter, his armor unchanged since the alliance brokered between Humanity and the Elites, to the battle over the Ark and the subsequent activation of Installation 04 replacement ring.
And across from the three columns stood a small group of individuals dressed within armored suits of tall stature, wearing an array of dull, faded low-intensity color palette, upon their armor.
Though faded, and marred by countless years of battle damage upon their armor, one could immediately tell the color that was once so prevalent when given to these individuals.
This group of armored individuals were the famed and legendary Spartans, men and women who could turn the tide of battle no matter the direness of the fight. Stories of lone Spartans fighting against the odds and coming out on top were far and numerous among the UNSC, always at the forefront of the heaviest of combat zones decimating battalions worth of Covenant forces.
Standing at the forefront of this group was an aged man, no older than 50, with hair on the cusp of graying and turning white from his time in the military.
His uniform was the standard OD green uniform of the UNSC Marine corp NCO attire, behind him and the Spartans were a group of only four individuals in dull-gray-blue uniforms, synonymous with ONI, their ranks unsurprisingly, were officer grade.
There they all stood at parade rest, some within the ranks though could only settle with straightening their backs as they sat, bound to their wheelchairs due to their battle injuries before the setting sun of the African outback.
Soon an elderly man in a pristine white naval attire adorned with gold ranks and medals upon his chest took center stage.
This man was Lord Terrence Hood, the current de facto leader of humanity's war machine and a man of well renowned reputation. Clearing his throat and removing his admiralty cap, and hugging it close to his chest, he spoke to those assembled before him who waited in anticipation.
"For us, the storm has passed. The war is over. But let us never forget those who journeyed into the howling dark and did not return. For their decision required courage beyond measure…" Lord Admiral Terrence Hood raised his gaze from the stage ramp toward the three groups standing before him, eyeing them with pride as his gaze swept over each and every one of them.
"Sacrifice and unshakable conviction that their fight, OUR fight, was elsewhere. As we start to rebuild, this hillside will remain barren, a memorial to heroes fallen" He paused, staring directly at Johnson, before shifting his eyes to another.
"They ennobled all of us… And they shall not be forgotten" Hood took a moment to look over the men and women who stood there again, be they wounded, disfigured, in good health, armored, or an alien. He took in all their details before placing his cap back upon his head.
Bringing his right hand up to his head in a proud salute to those who had fallen, a Marine NCO nodded in accordance with the salute. He too would salute proudly to those fallen and give the order to his fellow Marines standing off to his side, armed with BR-55's.
"Present~. Arms!" In perfect unison, the seven armed Marines brought their rifles up from their resting position by their legs, taking a quick glance off to their left before shouldering their rifles and turning their heads to aim their rifles upward to the sky in perfect 40 degree angle unison. Firing one round every 2 seconds perfectly synchronized, three times before placing their rifles back to where they were originally resting at in the same synchronized motions.
As the echoes of the three synchronized gunshots faded away into the African savanna, the Arbiter was the first to approach the Admiral's back, with Johnson and Chip following close behind up the ramp.
Chip lagging behind Johnson due to lugging a small bag with him as he went.
The Arbiter's footsteps thudded against the metal platform, louder than Johnson and Chip
"I remember how this war started. What your kind did to mine. I can't forgive you. But…" He turned to the Arbiter who looked upon the memorial.
"... You have my thanks, for standing by him to the end" The Arbiter turned to the outstretched hand of Hood, grasping it and giving a light shake toward the man.
"Hard to believe he's dead…" Hood said solemnly, averting his gaze from the Arbiter.
The Arbiter in turn, turned away from the Admiral toward the two Marines standing off to the side of the ramp. Nodding toward the two, acknowledging their presence there, and their efforts in the Arks activation and subsequent getaway.
He would then turn his attention back to the memorial, finding that a three digit number was etched upon the green coating of the memorial, smirking in an amused tone before turning toward the distant Kerel-pattern assault carrier which floated idly in the sky.
This briefly brought Hood's gaze away from the Arbiter, toward the distant carrier, only to look back to the Arbiter curious as to why he had a smirk of some sort plastered across his hinged face "Were it so easy" he stated before walking off the platform, past the two Marines.
Seeing their window, Johnson and Chip approached the Admiral.
"Sergeant Major… Corporal…" Hood said with his back facing the two, not wishing to look away from the monument dedicated to those who died in the defense of Earth and her colonies.
""Fleet Admiral"" The two Marines said solemnly as their boots came to a stop upon the metal platform.
"The war… Is finally over, the time for us to rebuild will be long and arduous in the coming years. It's a shame not many were fortunate enough to see this day come… Our victory, Humanities victory… His Victory… " he trailed off sorrowfully.
Silence permeated the platform the three stood upon, with nothing but the distant hum of a spaceship engine and the sound from the crowd behind them.
That is until the sound of a lighter flicking on broke the silence.
Taking a drag from his cigar, Johnson removed the deep dark brown cigar from his lips and glanced over its body reading the label that still clung close to the mouth area, before giving a chuckle.
"Permission to smoke?" Hood scoffed at his lighthearted question.
"Granted" He said with mirth to his voice, earning a tearful smirk from Johnson who took a long drag from his cigar, taking in the flavor and characteristic of this rare brand of cigar before exhaling slowly.
"Tastes pretty good… But something just doesn't seem right" Johnson stated as he approached the right most part of the memorial, finding that there were three digit numbers etched into the green paint.
Noting that they were deep and smooth in their etching, Johnson took a quick glance over his shoulder, finding the culprits speaking among their group of fellow armored individuals.
He smirked, returning his attention to the memorial, finding many photos and personal belongings laid against the base of the monument, including trios of MA5C's and M7S's in stack arms position with caps and helmets standing atop the rifle butts.
"Miranda…" He muttered regretfully, finding her smiling picture plastered onto the side of the monument with a M90 Shotgun placed beneath her picture, butt plate up.
Johnson knelt before her picture and removed his cap from his head, including his cigar from his mouth.
Kneeling, he closed his eyes and offered a silent prayer and apology to the fallen Commander, wishing that she was the one kneeling before his picture, in place of him.
So many what-ifs went through his mind, so many things that he could have done, so many variables he should have accounted for, so many things that he wished could be different yet knew the cold hard reality.
He can never change what has already happened.
Finishing his farewell to the fallen Commander, he looked upon the laid out mementoes searching until his attention laid upon the three digit number again. Johnson slowly placed his right hand upon the three digit number, only for him to hang his head low.
"You're just MIA… You're too damn stubborn to die you know that?" Johnson stated as a matter of fact, with a slowly forming grin.
Finishing his farewell, Johnson stepped back from the memorial, letting Chip have his moment.
Chip wasted no time and approached the monument but specifically a trio of M7S SMGs in stack arms at the right most part of the memorial.
Going to his knees and placing the bag flat on the ground, Chip pulls the bag down to reveal a battle damaged ODST helmet with a cracked visor, a hardened uplink attachment on the right side along with an UA attachment atop its forehead.
Hood raised a brow, amused by this sudden appearance of an ODST helmet and was just about to question why he had such a thing with him until remembering an ODST arguing against him before the mission to the Ark.
"Jukes old helmet" Johnson softly said, watching Chip take an M7S from its trio, which ultimately caused the two other M7S's to collapse upon themselves. Luckily they didn't fall upon the other mementos, and instead clattered against the monument, before coming to a standstill, leaning upon bundles of flowers.
"Ah, whoops!" Chip exclaimed as he placed Juke's helmet down, now propped up by a M7S, against the monument face.
Whilst Chip tried his best to arrange the two M7S, Juke's helmet slowly slid to the right before coming to a stop next to the Chief's number.
As if having a mind of its own, or out of pure coincidence, Juke's helmet hung low in the same manner as Johnson held when he too came before the Master Chief's number.
"There we go!" Chips cried out as he fixed the two remaining M7S into a criss-cross below Juke's helmet.
Stepping back to view his work, Chip smirked at his little handiwork. Though when he finally viewed it with the entirety of the memorial, a loud sniffle was heard from him.
"Geez Sarge, that smoke from your cigar is stinging my eyes over here" Chip jokingly stated as he swatted the air around his eyes.
Johnson cocked an eyebrow at this statement, and taking a quick puff from his cigar, Johnson pulled it out from his mouth, viewing the now unlit cigar before looking over to his newly minted Corporal.
Chip's grinning face quivered uncontrollably, and his eyes. Completely filled to the brim with tears did not so much as blink or move. Their gaze completely locked upon the damaged ODST helmet that rested next to the memorial.
Hood simply pulled his cap lower to shield his gaze from the Corporal.
Johnson let out an exhausted sigh before biting back onto his cigar and shuffling over to the left side of Chip's.
Carefully, Johnson wrapped his right arm over Chip and pulled him close.
"Different brand of cigars… It stings pretty bad doesn't it?" Johnson then pulled his lighter out with his free hand, lighting the cigar once more before taking a puff and exhaling away from his Corporal's face.
"Y-Yes Sarge" Chip answered with two tear drops finally cascading down his cheeks.
Johnson simply took a deep drag from his cigar before blowing it out "Well deal with it… Can't waste a cigar now can I?"
There was no reply other than a quick nod from Chip, as he bit on his lower lip.
"Yeah… It stings alright" Johnson stated as a matter of factly, rubbing his left eye.
Okay, so I'm not the last human on this planet. That's a relief, but now I have so many questions to ask these people.
First and foremost would be for someone to get this Creepy Chick away from me!
Like holy shit! Give me some space!
She's constantly talking, getting into my face every so often, and… hhhhgg… Breathing heavily whenever she gets closer to me like some pervert.
I need an adult…
As if god heard my plea, Emerald Eyed Shorty got her to back off just as we made our way through the ruins toward what I assumed was their base camp after who knows how long of walking through the oddly spacious alley.
Surprisingly when we made it to their base, I found myself staring at their triage center, like literally just 50 meters away or so from the entrance!
While I can see the benefits of having first aid so readily available and ready to go for all newcomers. They need better security, like a checkpoint with a gate and firing positions in case some robots get led back by one of their teams, like earlier.
Stepping away from the group of 11 or 12 I came in with, I just casually walked deeper into their lounge? Yeah lounge area, eying the place up and down while receiving my fair share of ogling eyes of curiosity from passersby.
You know, they could also add a pillbox or two in the buildings on the second or third floor. Some snipers placed sparsely around the buildings to view the huge open area would also help in security and provide over watch if shit hits the fan.
Oh and what do you know there's an MG nest, but it's around the bend, close to what I assume is the commerce area and… Front desk? They havea person at the desk with some computers or machines running there with an obvious tent set up to house them and the large desk. So I guess it's the front desk then.
Honestly, I don't know what these people were thinking, having the commerce area put so close to the entrance, instead of say the rear where it would be safer than where it's currently at!
Also where are the guards? Like I could see Creepy Chick and her band of rocketeers as the QRF and heavy hitters of their defenses, but where are the standard riflemen or patrolmen in this area?
As much as I am relieved that there are other people here, their defenses are shit, and do nothing to put me at ease.
Like my assessment senses are going haywire with how this place was constructed and organized.
They did have a nice patch of grass and white flowers in the center of this space though, which was a welcome sight among the concrete surroundings.
"A eWn oYrhA OmEdl?" I heard someone say to my right in the unknown language of this planet (?).
Turning to meet the owner of this voice, I found myself looking down at a man in a olive green beanie sitting underneath a tent canopy, cross legged, in a long sleeve sand colored shirt, forest green cargo pants, dark forest green combat boots, and with the same kind of goggle that one of the rocketeers wore.
"oSrrY, oSrry, uJtS hTe hToGhtS fO n old NAdrIod, uBt iSnce i ahVe oUry ttAeniotn. Rae oUy nItEretsde Ni OolknIg tA Ym wRaes?"
Honestly glad I haven't unpolarized my visor yet, because I probably had a face of confusion for the guy's question? Remark? Or is it a statement?
Whatever he said, I'm just gonna shake my head side to side to say… Wait before I do that, the guy has a bunch of tools sprawled out in front of him, including a radio that is just sitting on his lap disassembled.
I was just about to ask him if he was a mechanic/ technician but remembered the obvious language barrier between me and the rest of the people here.
Yeah give the guy a no and head on over to the front desk looking place and see if anyone can-
"Ho? Htsas a oyrHa oPd ouy Avhe oN ouyr abckapck… Hmmmm rfOm hTe oolks Fo it, I aCn Asy ti ahs eesn eTtber yAds" The sitting technician said with a thoughtful look on his face.
Still didn't know what he was talking about so gonna go with the age old head cocked to the side of 'I don't know what you mean or said' look.
In doing that, the guy simply pointed at me and pointed to his back to show that he was talking about the thing on my back… My ruck? Oh wait he probably means the package I was given or the box drone I picked up.
After what felt like a game of charades and 'guess what I said', the technician managed to get his point across that the box drone was owned by someone in the triage center.
At first I was hopeful that the guy was offering to try and fix the thing but it seems like he just wanted to ask about it, or tell me that the drone was someone else's.
Whatever, I'll just head on over to the triage area and see if the owner is there or anyone who knows who it belongs to.
This awfully feels like my early days as an ODST in my unit, fetch this fetch that, man the gun Juke! Take out that Banshee with the SPNKR Juke, it has a lock-on function! We need that sniper taken out Juke! or better yet Juke, do everything!
What am I? Some jazzy super rookie? Like yeah I'm usually in the maneuverable position when the squad is in a pinch but god damn does it suck when it's constantly you taking on Spartan levels of threat.
As annoying as it was for Gunnery Sergeant Foley to call upon me most of the time, the guy was a great leader and friend. Hopefully the old devil dog is still kicking after New Mombasa, last I heard from him, ONI had his Squad slated for some high level spook bullshit that involved Regret's Assault Carrier.
I never heard much about him or our squad after the subsequent pullout of the city. Even when the UNSC went on an all out counterattack against the forerunner key ship, before the Flood arrived…
…
…
…
Ah, forget it. Right now I have better things to worry about… But god I hope he survived his encounter with the Flood if god forbid, he ever encountered them.
Stopping just outside of the medical lined walls leading to the entrance of the triage center, I slung my MA5C-G over my shoulder locking it in place with the magnetic holster.
I was about to enter the triage center and having a weapon in hand while being the new guy in town was a terrible way of saying 'I was just here to return the box drone' or whatever it's called, back to its owner.
Which reminds me I'll need the thing in front of me so the owner or whoever, recognizes it ca-
"Uh!" A feminine voice cried out crashing into my chest plate with both their hands grabbing ahold of my chest piece in an attempt to brace themselves.
While my arms tried their best to break my fall, my left hand, which had unhooked the box drone from my ruck, had released the thing with a noticeable clatter against the triage area wall.
Sighing at my misfortune, I peered at the person who bumped into me, and man was I speechless, long beautiful straight red hair, creamy white fair skin, and a pair of aqua colored eyes that stared at me gently in wonder "God have mercy on me… Why am I now encountering beautiful women here of all places?" I said jokingly to myself.
I can already feel my face heat up a little and with how her arms were underneath her and on my chest plate, along with how she was staring at me with curious wide eyes… This is really getting awkward for me… Like embarrassingly so.
"Merci? Pourquoi me remercies-tu?" Oh god even her voice is beautiful, again, thank goodness I didn't unpolarized my helmet!
As time went on and the two of us stared at each other until she spoke again in the same gentle voice as earlier "Encore une fois, pourquoi me remercies-tu?
Wait... Did I hear that correctly? I'm sure I heard her speaking in Fr-
"Attends, comment sais-tu parlar français?!"
SHE'S SPEAKING FRENCH! FINALLY SOMETHING I CAN WORK WITH!
"B-Bonjourno, ah um, oui oui?" She raised a brow, okay that probably meant something like piss or something!
"Okay um, en-anglaise?!" God damn I wish my tac pad was working so I could pull up the translator! And she's now looking at me strangely.
"Vous ne comprenez pas le français?" She asked with excitement in her voice while inching up my body, so much so that she was basically in my face right now, not that I mind.
"Popola! hwY r oYu- Hwo Si hTat nUdrE oUY?!" A second feminine voice asked in alarm, causing both me and the redhead on top of me to lean our heads to look at the person. Who most likely was shocked at how we were arranged, not that I blame them.
"Devola! hTis Nadoird nKwos français!" The straight haired redhead exclaimed as she sat up from my body and my eyes followed… Wow.
Just the view of her sitting up in such a fluid motion was just so- don't trooper, don't! She's still on you!
Taking a quick look to see who Ms. Redhead was talking to, I found that standing behind her was another redhead but with curly red hair in the same exact clothing as the girl on top of me, albeit opposite in arrangement.
Twins?
I didn't know how long the two were bickering but I needed to get out of this compromising position before something rose which wasn't my magnum "A-Ahem" I cleared my throat.
This caught the two redheads in the middle of their conversation to pause, turning their attention back to me.
"Uh can you get off of me?" I asked embarrassingly, pointing at where Ms. Straight Haired Redhead sat on me.
"Excuse-moi" She said curtly as she rocked herself back up onto her feet, and thankfully she did.
Sighing, I dusted my ass and looked on over to the gray box drone, picking it up and also wiping whatever dust clung onto the thing.
While I performed a quick inspection to see if anything was broken on the thing, the two siblings behind me continued to chat with one another in that foreign language, from the sounds of it, it sounded like a heated argument or debate.
Well whatever it is, I'm going to need to check to see if the owner of this drone is in triage, hopefully alive.
Just as I turned around, the two siblings stopped their debate with one another, only then to stare at me expectantly while the curly redhead of straight hair, held a cautious look in her aqua colored eyes, the same as her sister, but without the caution.
Identical twins… Huh.
"Um, You ladies wouldn't happen to know who this thing belongs to, do you?" I said motioning up the gray drone with my left hand, balancing the thing.
"A aDmaged oPd?" The straight haired twin said questionably, recognizing the drone hopefully.
"dDi oUy eGnlect htIs oPd?" Curly haired asked in an inquisitive tone.
I guess they are friends of the owner? Or the owner bit the dust a long time ago, which is why curly haired here seems harsh in her tone.
I held my right hand up, open "Whoooa there, I don't know what you're saying but if you're accusing me of taking this off your friend I didn't! The tech guy over there" my right hand thumb pointed behind me "Just pointed me over in this direction toward the owner, who may or may not be dead"
Both twins leaned to their respective sides to look past me, toward the technician who most likely was still sitting down at his stall.
"Uyo'Er eHre oT ErpAir hEt OpD?" Straight haired asked pointing at the gray box drone.
I simply nodded, albeit uncertain. I didn't know what she said but from the tone of her voice, it sounded like she understood what I was doing, hopefully.
Straight haired, took the drone from my hands, just as she was about to leave, I stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder. This obviously wasn't liked by the curly haired twin, who took a step forward, ready to kick my ass.
"You're gonna want these too" Straight haired simply nodded and took the two small appendages with her as she left, her twin following soon after, before parting with a glare at me.
What's her problem?
Now that the gray box drone thingy was gone from my possession, the canister that hung on the bottom of my ruck needed to be dealt with.
Oh how I love delivery missions, what next I'm gonna need to get a signature or something for this? Fucking ONI red tape bullshit tended to do that 'You can't just download tier 1 information without approval!' Yeah, tell that to the Covenant.
I chuckled to myself recalling the Chief. Man, Chief really has some great one-liners.
I stopped mid foot lift as I was just about to leave the technician's form behind me as I was about to head on over to the front desk, the guy looked up at me from his work spot, wondering what the hell just happened with me.
Unhooking the tac-pad from its wrist mount and approaching the guy, I handed him my tac-pad while twisting an imaginary screwdriver mid air, indicating my request for repairs. The guy looked thoughtful for a sec as he looked over my tac-pad, rubbing his chin in the process as he did his best to examine it in my hand.
"Onw hTiS sI nItREsentig, yAm I?" He motioned me to fork it over, which under UNSC regulations would be a big no go, but if I want a working tac-pad/ translating system I need to get it fixed.
Once in the technician's hand, he looked it over, examining everything about the pad before reaching into his nearby toolbox and grabbing the needed tools talking in his native language.
While he did his thing, I simply stood there keeping watch just so he doesn't try to look into the information stored on that thing. Though lacking in more highly sensitive material compared to what I have on the chip in my head, it still held a good bit of info.
Speaking of the chip, I wonder if the thing is still functioning since landing here. I know the tac-pad was screwed, but never had the thought to wonder if the chip is still operating.
Now, it's no secret that most troopers in the UNSC are equipped in some way with a Neural Interface, or NI for short. UNSC Command, or officers of important stations, such as ship Captains or info officers are equipped with Command Network Interfaces, CNI for short.
The average lower enlisted man, while usually equipped with a basic form of a NI, almost never gets a CNI level piece of hardware installed.
Unless they were to… Say, get selected by ONI.
Surprisingly when ONI told me I was going to be given a CNI level implant, I was skeptical and for very good reason. This usually meant that they had plans for me, which after operation CATS PAW, which got most of my squad and fellow ODST units killed along with a division of Marines, in retrieving a highly defended Covie data unit, guarded by what would later be known as Honor Guard Elites. Yeah I was very skeptical of ONI.
ONI wanted skilled personnel who survived that mission… Too fucking bad that they got a decimated squad of ODST's to recruit from. Gunnery Sergeant Foley, who was at the time just your regular Sergeant, was thrusted into the leadership position after Gunny Hansley met an untimely death by needler.
Sadly his death wasn't from that of a needler rifle, instead it came from that of the numerous and all too familiar Type-33 Needler.
Works wonders on shielded and unshielded targets, for those shielded the needles just seem to stick on them, gradually detonating without so much as a scratch. Until a good amount super combines with one another to detonate into a bright violet explosion of tiny shards and from what I assume plasma.
If it was just against your typical physical armor like ODST and gear issued to Marines and Army troops then you'd be lucky the damn thing doesn't detonate as soon as it gets stuck in you.
To make matters worse, if embedded it seems to emit some kind of electrical or type of energy which can stun a person for a while or immediately send them into an unconscious state.
A nasty weapon, but not as nasty or more brutal as what the Brutes use as their standard issue weapon. The Type-25 Spiker, fires superheated spike projectiles toward its targets that burn and maim those struck by its barbaric ammunition.
I once saw a Marine get pinned to a wall by a Brute minor just before the Marine blasted the damn ape into oblivion. Luckily for him a Corpsman was nearby along with their squadmates so they managed to help the poor guy, but man did it suck.
They had to literally get a saw out to cut the spike pinning the Marine to the wall, his cry of pain literally drew more Brutes to his position. Along with a good amount of shield Jackals who advanced in front of their Brute officers.
Standard Covenant infantry doctrine, but it didn't matter when they had grenades being lobbed into their shield wall, breaking their formation and allowing us to hose them down. Hahaha, even their Brute officers couldn't do anything to reform their ranks or do much of anything to organize their troops, much less say anything!
The Marine Marksman in the Marine squad was the one to thank for that, saw his opportunity and took it.
A work of art really, pools and splotches of blood, grey matter, and skull fragments littering the battle torn streets accompanying the slayed aliens leading toward our checkpoint really spoke for itself.
When the bastards finally had enough and retreated, some Marines broke cover and tried to chase the fuckers down but stopped as they came upon the wounded.
I don't really need to say much about what happened to them but human rights violations became the unofficial ROE for POWs. That is after we get what useful info they have on them, which usually isn't much, save for the hingehead, or ape fuck leading their respective Grunt or Jackal squad.
Surprisingly whenever UNSC personnel do capture Covenant units, they're usually Grunts along with a Jackal every 3-4 Grunt that surrenders.
The rare times that we do capture a hingehead, ONI or some intel officer always gets their hands on them first and foremost. Oh, and Spartans too whenever they come across or are told of a captured Elite or Brute in their vicinity.
I swear, the last time I saw a Spartan interrogate an Elite, they really had creative and really fucked up ways to extract info, and this Spartan had his way with the bastard, carving'em up nice and painful.
By the end of the interrogation, the Elite spilled everything, and man… The amusement from the Spartan after hearing the begging, really gave the skull face on his helmet a good reason for why it was there.
Not that I was scared of the Spartan… Well... maybe a little, but the intel he got from the Elite saved my squad from a shitty ambush when we were pulling out of New Alexandria.
So more admiration then fear, but just enough that you'd do well not to get in his way or fuck around and find out with him.
Trust me, I've seen the guy bulldoze through a squad of Elite Ultras with nothing but a shotgun, his kurkri, and his bare hands.
His call sign was Noble… Not exactly the best callsign when you can butcher a squad of Ultras with practically your bare hands, but fitting really when he's clearing a path for your squad of troopers.
Couldn't say I remembered much about his number designation but that scratched-on skull face on his helmet was very memorable, along with his 'charming' personality.
The exact opposite to that tanky Spartan who carried a HMG. Big guy, with the yellow chest armor also in the same squad of Noble? Always giving out heavy support fire for the Men and Women who fight beside him. Tanking all the hits that would otherwise prove fatal to the average trooper when advancing toward the enemy at Sword Base.
Oh and then… And then there was Noble 6… I remember him more specifically.
Dude was quiet so much like the Master Chief, even the efficiency of killing covies was just as superhuman as the Chief if not more brutal in execution.
Yet the Spartan was a magnificent moral boost, taking out Brute Chieftains, Elite Ultras, and the rare case of a purple elite which I soon found out to be a Zealot. If the name is anything to go by then this was one tough ugly fucker, close to that of Honor Guard Elites.
That is until Noble 6 got his hands on the bastard.
Honestly, if Noble 6-.
[Tac Pad Connected]
[Audio File, Cortana - Playing]
Wha?
Immediately the sound of strings and piano keys plinking, erupted from my helmet and tac pad, causing the technician to jump in surprise at the sudden music being blasted at full volume.
I didn't waste any time and immediately turned the volume down remotely with my helmet VIA the neural interface, one of the many pros to having such a thing.
"Ahaha, tAht sAw quite hTe uRspiSre there… uTb I oGtta yAs htIs sI an tintretsngi hting uyo Hvae ehRe" The Technician said with a entertained smile across his face, as he handed me the fixed Tac Pad still playing the music, albeit quieting down to silence.
I simply nodded in response, still clueless to what he said, but nonetheless understood his facial expression.
Hooking the piece of tech back on my wrist mount and accessing its content to run the translator, I found myself looking at an entire playlist of music not my own open under the file name of O'Donnel.
O'Donnel… O'Donnel… O'Donnel…
'You know what? I'll just broadcast it to ya Jukes!'
OOOOoooh, that's right. Commander O'Donnel's music that Chip sent me… He said broadcast, but it was more like a data transfer, not that I have any problems with receiving music but it'll make a fine addition to my music library.
Besides, it'll help pass the time while I'm here.
Glancing back toward the technician, the guy was staring at me with his glowing blue goggles with a awaiting grin. Probably waiting for me to ask for more of his services, or in his trade profession, money… Ah shit.
I don't have any money on me, worse yet, their type of money!
And to make this worse I think I unintentionally said I'd pay the guy for his services… Well shit, I don't have anything worth selling and if there is it's mine. God forbid ONI finding out I sold my gear to the locals and it somehow ends up in Innie hands, they'd have my head on a spike!
Maybe I could trade a few grenades or something? An MRE maybe? Well seeing as the twins from earlier understood French let's get the translator running and sort out the guy's payment.
Hopefully he can sympathize with a man who can't understand their language.
It wasn't much of a hassle in the first place, but Cortana's software did more than your average UNSC translation software, more so than even the high end ones on the civie market too. Guess getting hooked up into ancient Forerunner tech does give you perks above the rest eh?
[Uh, hi there. Thanks for repairing my Tac Pad] Huh, faster, and copies my voice to fit French as if I'm a native speaker, Cortana really is the best.
The guy stared into my visor face, before glancing over to my Tac Pad showing an 'Ah-hah' face… Did the guy understand?
"So tI wSaN't uJts a EprsoNaL oCmuPtre! Fascinating!" Okay it seems like the software is kicking in! I can hear some familiar words along with seeing the subtitles pop up but they… Look weird to say the least, but nevermind that.
[As much as I would like to pay you for fixing up the thing, I don't have any cash on me to pay you. Now I'm not asking for a freebie but can I run this on store credit?]
The Technician just looked at me oddly before speaking "Huh, aws it orrcupted? I odn'T urQite understand uoy"
He said with a wry smile as he scratched the back of his head, and from hearing what he said about 'understand'. I get the feeling he doesn't know French, unlike the twins I met earlier… Just-
[So you do speak French, I guess Popola was right] Speak and ye shall receive.
Turning to my right, I found Wavy Red Hair of the twins I met earlier crossing her arms with a floating gray box next to her.
So I was right about it being able to float, but from the looks of it the thing seems to be a companion or scout for its handler. The low hum it emitted also helps in that type of roll, and with those appendages they could be useful in doing things that the standard soldier can't.
[Not entirely, you see I am speaking to you with the assistance of my translation software] I flashed her my wrist, mounted with the Tac Pad.
[Sadly, it seems like not everyone here knows French other than say you and your sister] She took a few steps closer still eying me up and down.
[You're not a part of Yorha are you?] The hell?
[Yorha? What is that? Some kind of PMC or local militia?] She raised an eyebrow, surprised by my questions, yeah not from around here if you're noticed.
She seemed to be in thought searching for her words, until the floating box spoke with a slightly distorted mechanical voice in French [Yorha is a-]
Before Floaty here could continue, a new female voice interrupted its info dump, which caused me to turn around to face this newcomer.
[A separate military organization with the distinct purpose of combating against the Aliens and their pawns, the Machine Life Forms. Which you encountered from earlier after helping my people get to safety]
Hey it's the lady who was at the front desk, I was just about to head over to her after getting my Tac Pad fixed, guess I don't need to anymore.
[Yeah, damn thing was trying to flatten us, your welcome] I wasn't trying to be snarky in any way, but she simply gave a curt nod.
I get the feeling she's someone of high standing here, the way she carries herself, her voice which sounds like someone used to a leadership position, including her being at the, what I assume front desk looking down at the table as if planning.
Yeah she's someone of a high standing here.
[What Commander Anemone says is true, yet did not include other details to Yorha] The Drone states.
While I am curious as to the full detail, for now I need to smooth over my payment with the technician here [Excuse me Commander, but if it isn't asking much, can you uh, help me with the repair cost here with the technician?]
Yeah, yeah I know that look [Do you not have any Gil on you?]
The fuck is a Gil?
[No mam, in fact I don't even know what a Gil is] Okay yeah, keep giving me strange looks as if you're looking at someone stuck under a rock bu-
Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone walking by with one of those robot heads as a… Helmet? Am I seeing things? In fact isn't that just impractical as hell? Honestly it doesn't look like it, because the lady walking by just seemed to be doing fine!
This place is getting weirder and weirder by the second.
[Don't mind Barbie, she and a few others around camp have some strange tendencies but are generally normal if you look past those things] Barbie… As in that… Not even gonna question it.
[Okay, well back to the topic, what is a Gil? Your currency?] I questioned Anemone.
[Yes, Gil are these coin shaped cogs that you can collect from defeated Machines, these can generally be melted down and be converted into usable materials] I turned to Wavy Red Head and saw a Inch wide cog coin that had a orange shine to it.
That's money? And by Machines I assume it's the robots that I've been encountering? Including the big guy that was taken out just outside of their hideout.
[Their purposes within a Machine aren't too well known but from how they contain rare metals it has been the universal currency used by the Resistance and other allied forces] This place is weird.
[Well… That is… Nice to know, but don't really have the time to scavenge for that stuff when I was given this to deliver] I reached around to grab the canister, bringing it up to eye level.
[And I don't know about you but, the sender was pretty adamant that I deliver this, but couldn't really do that if I can't understand anything anyone is saying. Much less to whom it was meant to be given to] I was just about to put the thing back but stopped when Anemone questioned me about Green-Eyes.
From how she carefully described her with 'human' physique I kind of had a guess as to why. Rough human-robot relations or a message/ bribe to her about their little forest village, which I am currently staying at.
[So you're the courier she spoke about… When I was informed I was expecting… Something else in your place] Yep, bad relations.
I was just about to ask her about the repair cost but she simply waved me off and produced a small sack from beneath her cloak, handing it to me.
It wasn't too heavy but it had some weight to it.
[Payment for the delivery, and helping my people to safety. I'll pay off your repair cost with Mern] She said before speaking with the tech- well Mern about it.
While Anemone was talking in that unknown language, I glanced over to Wavy Red hair [I never got your name by the way, the names Juke] I held out my hand.
She looked at it before grabbing ahold of my outstretched hand [Devola, and the one you met earlier with straight red hair was my sister Popola. Word of advice keep your distance from us, also now that you have money, I'll take that as payment for the repair fee]
[What?]
[For repairing Pod 61] She stated with an open palm outstretched to the floating box.
I wryly chuckled [Uh I didn't ask for a repair]
[Yes you did, you nodded when me and Popola asked if you needed to repair the Pod] She said with annoyance.
[I didn't understand what you and your sister were saying! I just went with the flow thinking you were returning the drone to its owner!] I said incredulously [Hell I'm only speaking French now due to my translator, as I said earlier, was getting repaired]
[Yet somehow you managed to communicate to Mern that your device needed repairs, don't try to worm your way out of this] Devola said, planting a finger into my chest plate to drive in her point as she stared up at me.
[The fuck do you mean worming my way out of this!? I'm simply stating it was an accident! If I knew what was happening I'd have just said no! But I couldn't understand a damn thing you two were saying!] subconsciously I raised my voice at her, annoyed so much that I forgot to notice the drone hovering to the side of us.
[Question, do you not understand the common language of Nieran?] The drone questioned, drawing my gaze to it.
[Is that what it's called? Whatever happened to English? Like I can understand pride in your new language but to abandon the most common language like English just seems stupid] Devola stared at me as if she was seeing an alien, a friendly alien, not the covie types.
[Is that what you were speaking in before?] Devola questioned taking a few steps back while the drone did the opposite.
[Yeah, what else would I be talking in? Gibberish?] I scoffed aloud, only then for the drone to get right up in my face.
I pushed it away, giving me my much needed personal space but the damn thing again closed the distance between us unperturbed by my earlier reaction.
[Pod! Cease your scanning attempts!] Devola said, smacking it to the side, stopping the drone's attempt and looking back to me with a look of wonder? Well whatever counts as wonder for the thing.
And what did she mean by scanning?
Just before I could voice my thoughts out she spoke before me, asking me for my age, weird but I'll bite [26 why? Seems irrelevant asking for my age]
She pursed her lips seemingly contemplating on asking her next question [You can speak English?]
Turning around to face Anemone I found that she herself was looking at me in… Amazement? Wonder? Okay what the fuck is happening now? This is starting to creep me out.
[Yeah?, but why are you two making a big deal out of it?] I said as I stepped closer to the bed of flowers, having both of the girls on either side of me.
Seeing how I was being defensive, both of the girls gave me space before taking in a breath of air. Great now something groundbreaking is going to be said and they might just ask me for help, HA! As if.
[What year is it for you Juke?" Devola asked with a revered tone, I take that back. I guess something groundbreaking is going to be said.
Just didn't know what it was, but seeing as my age and date are being asked it can't be good.
[Last I checked 2552… December 11th… What with all the fighting I did I never really kept track unless it was mission oriented] I watched their reaction, earning surprise looks from both Devola and Anemone, while the drone just floated about.
[So does anyone want to explain why this is important?] I asked the only three who could understand French.
[English is an ancient language that was once known and used across the planet by humanity] Devola said solemnly avoiding eye contact with me.
[The only information we have on the English language are old text and recordings that the Human Heritage League managed to save before the Aliens arrived] Aliens? Do they mean the Covenant? Also, Human Heritage League?
Something isn't right here… There's something I'm missing… Something crucial that they know but I don't, but I'll it play it cool.
Even if I felt like making a mad dash all the way back to robot village, I need information about this place first and foremost.
[So I take it that French is also ancient?] Devola nodded.
Seriously, what the hell.
[It's ancient, but most androids, most notably the older models are still capable of speaking it. My sister and I, including Anemone being such models, though for her it was by learning] Did- Did I hear that correctly?
I took a step back unintentionally watching the sad look on their faces appear at my sudden reaction.
I wanted to ask her to repeat herself but Anemone spoke before I could muster my voice above my confused self.
[I know this is a lot to take in but… From your date, you've been asleep for roughly 9000 years. You are one of if only a small number of Androids that have managed to live this long, it's a miracle that you awoke with your equipment still in working condition like yourself] I turned to Anemone still processing what she said.
9000 years? Android? Asleep? Did… Does she think I'm an Android? No, before that… They... They're Androids? And 9000 years? Then, what, no where am I?!
The urge to demand an answer to that very question was snuffed away when Devola spoke to Anemone, I didn't hear the content of their talk, just muffled as I stood there processing everything.
9000 years roughly she said… Meaning either I was sent forward in time landing on a colony or some weird forerunner installation like Halo with a never changing day.
Or worse yet I'm in purgatory for some crime I committed in life. I'm not religious but if I did, just send me to hell instead God, just let me know I died and suffered for poor life choices, instead of this bullshit!
If it's hell, I at least have the honor of regrouping with my fellow brothers in arms who perished before me! At least do me that favor!
But in the sole chance I did travel 9000 years into the future… Did we fight some aliens on par with the Forerunners? Or worse than the Covenant? And did we… Did we at least have a chance to be prepared for the fight?
I turned my attention to Devola who glanced at me worriedly with her aqua colored eyes.
She looks so human… Her eyes, her fair skin, and even her expression are perfect to a T of a real human! In fact I'd say perfect despite being just a... No… Cortana herself was just an A.I yet she herself was so human, so lively, and emotional at times in contrast to Chief.
Still this… Just her worrying for me, even if she isn't human is comforting.
[W-What about humanity?] I questioned trying to steady my voice, failing miserably.
[Humanity, headed now by the Council of Humanity is safely stationed upon Earth's moon with a steady population of 10 million humans awaiting for the defeat of the Aliens, and subsequent retaking of Earth's surface for massive human resettlement] I forgot the drone was a part of-
Earth?!
I'M ON FUCKING EARTH?!
AND WHAT THE FUCK DOES IT MEAN 10 MILLION HUMANS LEFT?!
I forgoed all sense of self control at that moment. I immediately lunged at the drone, pinning it to the ground landing just mere inches away from the tech guy.
[Caution, unexpected action will result in self defense] the stupid drone warned me but I didn't care
[What do you mean this is Earth!? And 10 million humans left?! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED!?] I roared.
This can't be true, no fucking way did I travel 9000 years into the future only to land back on a devastated Earth!
THERE IS NO WAY IN HELL WE LOST EARTH!
[Caution, self defense will be initiated if hostile action does not cease]
[TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED! HOW DID WE LOSE EARTH?!] I roared out again at the drone only then to feel two pairs of hands pulling me off of the thing.
I glanced to both my sides and found both Anemone and Devola holding my arms, hauling me from the Drone before throwing me onto my ass, both with a sympathetic look across their faces.
[What happened?!] I demanded again.
Anemone walked toward me stopping in front of my feet to most likely gaze down at me [When Humanity saw the futility of staying on Earth along with their dwindling population, they enacted a withdrawal plan from Earth to the Moon base that they had under construction since the start of the war]
[Since their retreat to the Lunar base, and their subsequent losses in their flight, Humanity has called upon us, Androids, to keep fighting the war on Earth as they recuperated their-]
[How bad?] I said with a low voice as my gaze stayed on the ground [How bad did they lose?]
I couldn't see her expression but the silence from her was telling, humanity got its butt kicked…
Worst of all, it was telling that we lost our colonies in the stars… That means this new alien race was just as driven and fanatical in their campaign if not thorough in execution.
I guess when humanity fled they wanted to humiliate us if they allowed the last remnants to flee to the moon… Probably came for the Forerunner installation in Africa and after annihilating us, saw us as nothing but a dying broken race that once traveled among the stars.
That means everything that was done, was it in vain?
D-Did the countless lives lost and given in the defense of Earth mean nothing?
So many dead… So many planets razed… The sacrifices given for our victory- Humanity's victory, was it all for nothing?
My vision blurred from the tears forming in my eyes, but I didn't blink, I couldn't, I SHOULDN'T!
But they fell nonetheless.
How could I? I was just a man… A man flung far from his time when he should have just died knowing the war ended that day!
I was content becoming the last death of that war! Content that I wouldn't be able to see Humanity rebuild and emerge from the ashes of war stronger and better than ever!
Content knowing my death along with so many others meant something!
But now? I don't know…
[If it's any consolation, while you were asleep. The aliens went into hiding and have not been spotted for some time now, we have all assumed since their last offensive action. They took heavy losses and are playing the waiting game while their Machine Life Forms do the fighting for them] Anemone said as she squatted before me.
I lifted my head up to gaze at her and saw a small warm smile across her face… She was trying to cheer me up, but that was probably just because she thought I was an Android like her.
Slowly I got back up to my feet, not bothering to dust myself [Will you be okay?] Anemone asked, also standing up again.
[I don't know] It was the truth, and now after hearing that? Who would?
Emotionlessly, I walked away from the two back toward the entrance. My legs were shaky for the first couple of steps but once I got my rhythm going it went back to normal.
[Ah it's you! Are you leaving?] Emerging from one of the rooms leading into one of the many ruined buildings the Straight hair of the red headed twins appeared.
I simply nodded, but before I left, I tossed the sack Anemone gave me to her [Payment for the repairs] I simply said before continuing my way toward the alley that I walked through some time ago.
The walk was quick, not due to me increasing my pace but from how my thoughts were preoccupied by what was said earlier.
Once exiting the alleyway, I plotted a return trip back to Robot village but before I inputted the coordinates I noticed that the surrounding darkened, so much so that I had all but believed an enemy ship was hovering above me.
Thankfully it was just the clouds, dark rain looking clouds to be exact. They hadn't begun to rain yet but honestly I hoped for it to rain…
As if on cue the sound of a low rumbling thunder storm echoed through the never ending daytime landscape.
I should have stopped him… If I remembered a storm would pass by in the next hour, I would have offered him a place to stay to sort through his thoughts. He sounded so devastated, so lost like the many others who lost their will to fight on.
But he doesn't have anyone to help him through what he is feeling right now, an Android from 2552 who all but just awoke. Only to find out that everyone he knows is gone and to learn Humanity has fled to the Moon? Who can even help him to cope with that revelation?
The raw emotion from his voice even if muffled by the helmet he wore was just so heartbreaking to hear.
Despite speaking in the Ancient language of French, many others around the camp understood what was said from just his tone alone. So many had heard and felt that tone before through their time fighting the Machines, be it a loss of a friend or the combat fatigue that many encounter.
His outburst was one that left a depressing thought throughout the camp, even if it was in French.
Thankfully no one but the Twins and the Pod understood our conversation, to hear his shock and horror at the 10 million humans left was… Demoralizing.
Mow that I look back at his outburst.
He must have served with Humanity when they still fielded their own soldiers in battle against the Aliens when they arrived. To fight with your creators side by side, the honor he felt must have been wonderful.
To be led into battle, to be given orders with an unfractured Humanity, when Humanity themselves were still numerous fighting the Aliens to a standstill must have been legendary.
Somewhere down the line he may have been forced into slumber for when he would be needed by Humanity, or for maintenance if he was that well preserved when we met.
Perhaps the Human who cared for him was a close partner who wished for him to continue existing?
A small grin crept across my face.
I have heard stories of Humans cherishing Androids like any other Human, going so far as to self harm just so their Android may continue functioning once they perished.
I even heard the more explicit stories that would occur between a Human and Android, from the more… Excitable Androids.
"Anemone, where did that Armored Android go?" Lily asked as she approached the table, taking cover from the pouring rain as she entered the tent.
I sighed trying to rid myself of the warmth that came with my earlier thoughts "He left just as soon as he dropped off Pascal's shipment"
"I see, I wanted to thank him for helping us against the Goliath Elite. Did he say when he would return?" I shook my head.
"Lily, don't worry about him. Doing so will only affect you negatively as the days go by" It sounded harsh, but after hearing his defeated tone and resignation in his voice, it was all too familiar with now lost Androids.
"Oh… I understand, but do you know where he came from? Was he a new Yorha model?" Lily asked as she came closer to the table, removing her rifle from her shoulder and placing it on the table.
"He is not a new Yorha model, but he is an old one…" I could tell Lily the whole truth but it would be best for her to forget about him.
I too should do the same but to encounter an Android as old as him… An Android who interacted closely with Humanity and walked amongst them, was just something that I and many others would wish to ask him about.
He was a living time capsule when Humanity still lived on Earth, a relic that had all but left my camp, resigned to what fate would befall him as he wandered aimlessly through the storm.
If the Human Heritage League heard of this they would never stop hounding me… More so the Church of Humanity, they would be the most troublesome of Androids.
I sighed exhaustively.
"So how old is he? If you don't mind me asking" Lily said whilst removing her cloak to hang on a coat hook close to the entrance of the tent.
I glanced up from the stacks of paper to Lily "Very, old" I said punctuating the words given.
Something seemed to brighten up in Lily's eyes, causing me to raise a brow "Then that would explain why he was speaking gibberish when introducing himself, must have an error in his language log. Nothing but a quick system update wouldn't help with fixing"
I placed my palm against my face, stumped by how caught up in the situation I was in to forget that he has no one else to communicate with other than me, the twins, and the pod.
Yorha too if they ever come across him.
Glancing out toward the void of space, a 30 year old lightly tanned skinned individual, dressed in a pure white business suit stood still within his large office room of similar clinical white. Save for the furniture that was meant for his guest and himself to use when in serious discussions.
(knock knock knock)
"Enter" He ordered as his doors opened inward with automated ease for the visitor.
Entering the room was a long subdued-pink haired individual standing at 5.7 ft tall, wearing a large overcoat made of coal black leather with red cloth as its inner insulation, resting on her shoulders. Her clothes were skin tight dark purple with lighter see through materials covering her legs and chest.
Her knee high length heels clacking against the pristine hard white floor before coming to a stop before the pristine wooden table and black leathered couches.
There was a deafening silence in that very room, yet there were no signs of discomfort from either of the two.
"Has there been any changes?" The man asked without turning his attention to his visitor.
There was but a brief silence until the pink haired individual spoke "Yes, they have begun to make a move since the Aliens reappearance. Though said Aliens have still yet to reveal themselves"
He snorted at her report, dismissive of the information no matter how true it was.
"Those disgusting aliens… They hide upon humanity's planet as if they conquered it! The disrespect will one day be paid in their blood, Just like all those years ago." He held his right up to cradle the distant planet before him, before forming a fist to seize it.
"Very well, if they wish to stay hidden then it will not hinder us with the seizure of humanities artifacts. Ensure that Judy and her unit are ready for the next operation, and you… You will be redeployed to a close friend of yours, currently leading the support forces in the Asiatic theater. I heard she has been allowing desertion and turning a blind eye to it for some time now."
There was no emotion shown across her pale face, only her ruby red eyes behind her tinted round glasses staring at the back of her superior.
"But that is after Yorha establishes a more secure foothold after their descent operation to eliminate, supposed, high value targets in what was once known as the Japanese islands"
He turned to face her, and soon made his way to her standing figure, smiling as he did.
Her ruby eyes staring out toward the void of space at the planet once habited by Humanity, Earth.
"I'm sure that in the time that it would take for them to finalize their plans, we would have an adequate amount of time to debrief from your previous mission" He said, now standing behind her, placing both his hands on top of her shoulder, slowly rubbing her synthetic muscles beneath her artificial skin with his cold hands.
"Why don't we take tha-" before he could continue, the audible ringing from a call along with a holographic message appeared over his desk, prompting him to remove his hands from her shoulders and making his way back to his desk.
Once seated and going through the message tagged along with it, he visibly scowled in annoyance "We'll continue the debrief another time, you are dismissed Spectre… For now"
She simply nodded and turned on the dime, leaving just as quickly as she had entered.
Once outside of the office and walking back to her quarters, she gritted her teeth in disgust and frustration as she recalled his uncomfortable cold grip upon her shoulders.
Pulling upon her overcoat to cover more of herself, Spectre did much to comfort herself and control the emotions that she dared not show before her superior. She abhorred every single second being in the same presence as him, having to deal with his sexual harassment and not show signs of emotions had done well to keep him at bay, moreso the frequency of her missions to the surface below.
One time she accidentally let slip a moment of anger when he grabbed a handful of her butt as he was inspecting her fellow Androids, who all but understood her feelings. Save for the newly commissioned Androids who joined the guard forces upon the base and those who envied her position.
As if fanned by her sudden show of emotion, he had unofficially dubbed her as one of his own personal agents, a position that she despised greatly.
Continuing her journey back to her quarters, she passed by one of the many viewing windows to gaze upon Earth and as she stopped to do just that. Spectre placed her palm against the reinforced glass while pressing body closer to the glass, as if to float out into the void toward Earth.
With her free hand she removed her tinted round glasses and gazed upon the beautiful blue planet of Earth with her very own eyes.
"Why, of all the humans to have survived… Why must it be him to be the one in charge of us?" She directed her question to Earth, the planet which birthed humanity, and in turn her own kind.
"Why could it not have been someone else?" she lamented, staring out from the Moon base she and her fellow Androids were charged with protecting.
If I didn't know any better I'd have thought night had finally come… The thick dark rain clouds and hard rain pouring down from the sky did much to hamper the endless daylight.
As I peered out from my 12 story vantage point toward the flooding streets below, I could make out one or two of those robots getting swept away by the newly formed currents. While some did the smart thing and seeked shelter in one of the many ruins.
Now I would be nervous about robots seeking shelter down below, but if it wasn't for the fact that the stairs leading up to the 3-4th floor building I was staying in, collapsing, I'd have been using what old furniture or fallen concrete slabs as a makeshift barricade on the stairwell.
And I don't know if those stubby bots can climb ladders but, just in case, I rigged a few frag grenades around the elevator shaft just in case those things had any bright ideas. Along with setting up some good ol fashion sound alarms from old rusted cans placed haphazardly on the ground and what old glass was still around.
After setting up those makeshift perimeter defenses, I just went on over to this gaping hole in the side of the building to gaze outside and survey the area again.
Stomach grumbles
It's been a while since I last ate anything, pulling up my internal clock, which I had forgotten about, it told me the time was 2201 hundred hours, almost 8 days since my landing here. If I remember correctly it took me technically 2 days to reach Anemone's town, including sleep, and my run in with the 'locals'.
Seeing as I left not too long ago, say roughly 2 or 3 hours ago while I was just lost in thought, I still had 45-46 more hours of hiking to go… But with the storm rolling through and the conditions afterwards? I'd be lucky to even have reached back to the village in that time frame.
For now, I should just get something to eat and afterwards try to get some sleep until the storm passes.
While I'm at it, I might as well check out the playlist from Commander O'Donnel… Might be something perfect to play through this rain storm.