Legends of Fallen Warriors
Chapter
1: The End of the Insurrection
0859
hours, 25 June 2524
Venezia,
capital world of the Insurrection
Staff Sergeant Jason Cook stared across the barren land,
looking for some hint that the peace talk was about to take place. As sniper of
his ODST team, Kilo One, he was tasked with spotting the dropships that would
now be making their way to the meeting spot, carrying the highest ranking officers
from both warring militaries on the planet. The meeting spot was located in the
middle of the no man's land, a dying land which stretched almost two thousand
kilometres from east to west. There was only one mountain range in no man's
land, and Kilo One had already set themselves up there to provide overwatch on
the meeting.
"Kilo One Three, check the skies. The negotiations
are about to start soon. Over." Kilo One's commanding officer, Captain
Ponder, said calmly through the COM. Jason detected a hint of worry in the
captain's voice, and certainly understood his CO's trepidation. In the past,
the Insurrectionists had disguised a suicide bomber as a negotiator, taking out
several high ranking individuals in the UNSC Defense Force. That event had changed
protocol dramatically. No prisoners were to be taken alive, and both sides were
happy to comply with it. After nearly thirty years of mutual bloodshed, it was
hard to rebuild trust between the UNSC and the Innies, as most UNSC soldiers
call the Insurrectionists.
Jason slowly swept his sniper rifle from left to right,
scanning the skies. Finally, he spotted a glint in the south, and predictably,
as he quickly snapped his rifle to the north, another glint there. "Kilo
One One, Iron Heart is inbound. I repeat, Iron Heart is inbound. The meeting is
a go. Over." He quietly spoke into the COM. Not waiting for the Captain's
response, he kicked his sleeping teammate, Sergeant Marvin Mobuto, awake and
set up the tripod stand that held his rifle. He lay on the ground, adjusted his
scope, and glanced through it to see the two dropships simultaneously landing
on the agreed meeting spot.
Jason inhaled, then slowly exhaled to calm his thundering
heart. This was just another mission, he told himself, and certainly nothing to
worry about. If any threats materialized, he would take them out quickly and
efficiently, no questions asked. But still, he would quite possibly witness the
end of the war in this mission, and that was certainly no small thing.
He could see the ramp behind both dropships descend.
Three men came out from each of the dropships, three for the UNSC Defense Force
and three for the Insurrection. He recognized the legendary Fleet Admiral
Preston Jeremiah Cole, General Kits from the Marines, and one older woman that
he didn't recognize. He saw General Howard Graves, commanding-in-chief of the
Insurrection Militant Arm, accompanied by his aides.
He glanced to his left, assured that Marvin was guarding
his back as always, and spoke into the COM, "Iron Heart is on the ground.
General Graves is negotiating for the Insurrection. Over." After a few
moments when Captain Ponder relayed Jason's message to HIGHCOM, his COM
sounded, "Kilo One Three, eyes on Iron Heart. You have permission to
engage enemy if threats surface. Over."
As ordered, Jason continued to watch over the meeting. A
table had been set up between the dropships. Papers changed hands every now and
then, and Jason saw the uneasiness in the negotiators' body languages. The
meeting wasn't going well, He knew, so he readied himself. After what seemed
like hours to him, but was only slightly more half an hour, the six men stood
up and saluted each other. General Graves' hand slipped down to his side and
pulled out a sidearm, which made Jason's finger tensed on his rifle's trigger,
but the General handed over the sidearm grip first to the UNSC officers. A
gesture of surrender, a gesture that symbolized the end of the thirty year long
civil war that spanned hundreds of planets and caused almost two hundred
million civilian and military deaths.
Relieved, Jason sighed and slowly stood up. Marvin looked
at him questioningly, and he simply said, "The war is over."
Strangely, he felt nothing. Maybe it was because the war had become a constant
in his life (he was only twenty one years old after all), or maybe it was the remarkably
simple conclusion to the war that dampened his emotions. Either way, it didn't
matter, he decided, so he merely smiled at his friend through his unpolarized
faceplate, and made his way to the camp his other teammates had set up.
xxxxxxxxxx
After a quick meal, the fifteen members of Kilo One
packed their things up and made their way down the treacherous mountainside.
Jason had never felt more at ease when he was on point. The war was over, he
believed, and there was no more threats, either from an enemy sniper or from any
other foes. He looked back at his companions ten strides behind him and smiled
at the sight. For three years, they had fought beside each other, and
miraculously all of them had survived. Now, they had their helmets off for the
first time since God knows when, and were talking with each other animatedly,
discussing their future prospects.
So immersed was
Jason in their conversation that he barely noticed the slight shifting beneath
his feet. By the time he noticed the shifting of the loose soil, he had already
started tumbling down the slope. Desperate, he threw out his arms and legs to
catch anything, anything that would stop him, but the momentum was too great
for him to have a firm hold on something. Then he saw his doom. A sheer drop
loomed before him, and he could not shake the image of a body splattered on the
ground before a high cliff from his mind.
Desperation ruled him. He scratched at the ground, trying
to slow himself down so that his momentum would not send him too far from the
cliff face. That had apparently worked, for he dropped close to the cliff face,
and he wasted no time in using his hands and legs to kick and punch at the
rocks protruding out of the cliff face to slow himself. But still the ground quickly
rose to meet him, and he knew that he would drop too quickly to escape
unscathed. He braced himself for the impact, and soon a jolt battered all of
his bones, followed by a sharp pain in one of his ankles. All the air in his
lungs blew out in one big puff, and dark spots swam in front of his eyes.
Before he fell into the realm of unconsciousness, he noted a pair of combat
boots approaching him. That didn't comfort him at all.
xxxxxxxxxx
Jason was in a dark, dreamlike place. It felt like he was
floating in midair, serenity coursing through his heart. He had never felt so
at peace in his life before.
"Hello!
Hello! Wake up!" He could hear a woman speak. The voice that uttered those
words seemed so familiar to Jason, so strikingly similar to his mother's
soothing, sing song voice. But that couldn't be, he knew, for his parents had
been slain when the luxury liner National Holiday was blown up by the
Insurrectionists four years ago.
Using the voice as a guideline back to consciousness,
Jason growled through the black spots that threatened to overwhelm him and
managed to open his eyes. Dizziness nearly overcame him, but again he growled
through it. Finally, his vision cleared enough to see a young attractive woman
standing over him, a concerned look on her face. When she saw that he had woken
up, she gave a cry of delight and twirled away. Amazed, Jason stared mesmerized
as the woman danced on the floor. Finally, he managed to force the words
through the lump in his throat and asked, "Where am I? How did I come
here?"
The woman smiled at him and slowly replied, "My
cousin, Private MacArthur brought you here. He said he saw you fall from a
cliff. It was a miracle you survived, trooper. As for where you are, this is my
church." She waved her hands, indicating the cross in the middle of the
altar and the images of Jesus and Christianity. Jason looked around in wonder,
for even though this place was in the middle of a warzone, it was unscathed. He
couldn't deny the strength of this holy place, as if God himself had blessed
it.
Jason stood slowly, trying to digest everything that had
happened. As soon as he stood, his broken ankle threw pains up his leg, nearly
buckling him. The pain was not so intense, though, and he saw that his entire
left foot had been wrapped in a cast. He nodded appreciatively at the woman,
and though he didn't think that his full title would somehow mean anything to
the beautiful woman, introduce himself. "My name is Staff Sergeant Jason
Cook, UNSC Marine Special Operations. Nice to meet you. You are?"
The woman giggled. "I am Tiffany. Nice to meet you
too, trooper. I heard that General Graves surrendered. Does that mean the war
is over?" Worry flashed through her angular features, so that meant that
she had also been affected by the war, Jason thought, as he smiled reassuringly
at her, "Yes, it is over. I was watching the meeting before I fell from
the cliff. Your cousin..." He stopped suddenly when realization hit him.
Her cousin's name was Private MacArthur, and he remembered the pair of combat
boots approaching before he fainted. The UNSC had sent only one team to monitor
the meeting, and Private MacArthur was definitely not his teammate. So that
means...
He stared hard at the woman and said tentatively, "Your
cousin. Is he an Insurrectionist?" The look on the woman's face confirmed
his suspicion. He subconsciously glanced around the church. but caught himself
and laughed aloud, drawing a curious look from the woman. Three years of fighting
against the Innies must have dampened his trust in anyone except for his
comrades, he thought, and he pointedly sighed.
Jason glanced at Tiffany, and grinned at her. "Would
you like to go on a date with me?" He said. "As repayment for taking
care of me," He quickly added, seeing the incredulous look on her face.
Tiffany laughed, and said lightly, "There are no restaurant on Venezia
anymore, Jason. The war had torn everything apart. I will agree if you take me to a classy establishment
on Reach, but you have to take me back here after the date. Deal?" She
laughed again, and Jason couldn't help but laughed as well.
"Deal, but
only if you remember my name when I come back for you after I have been
discharged." Jason said, prompting another laugh from Tiffany. The too
brief moment was disrupted by Jason's COM.
"Kilo One Three, do you copy? I can't get a fix on
your location. Over." The urgent voice of Captain Ponder sounded through
the radio. Jason glanced at Tiffany, and she nodded, indicating that it was
okay for him to reply. "Kilo One One, I am in a church," he checked
his current location on the Tactical Map, "one mile east of the River
Arno. I have a broken ankle. A woman had been taking care of me. Where are you
guys? Over."
"Thank god, Kilo One Three. I thought you were a
goner. We have eyes on your location. A medevac is on the way. Three mikes.
Out." came his Captain's response. Jason sighed, and he glanced at
Tiffany, uncertainty coursing through his mind. He was intrigued by the young
woman, he knew, and wanted to talk with her, but he couldn't go AWOL as that
would bring trouble to him and Tiffany. As if reading his mind, Tiffany nodded
and said, "Well, go then. We will have plenty of time to talk during our
date." She smiled and motioned for Jason to follow her out of the church.
His teammates arrived soon, and a Pelican dropship picked
them up. Jason remained silent throughout the entire flight, his thoughts
centred around the attractive woman he had met in a small church on Venezia. He
came out of his contemplations when he saw the massive supercarrier UNSC Trafalgar
looming in the windscreen of the dropship. He would be discharged after the
debriefing, he reminded himself, and after visiting his younger siblings on
Reach, he would come out to Venezia and meet with Tiffany.
BY MR. SMITH
