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Last of a Dying Breed [part 2]-A Brief Respite
Posted By: hornet34<hornet34x@hotmail.com>
Date: 27 November 2003, 12:57 AM


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A blaring siren jolted Warren out of sleep. He slapped at the clock and threw it across the room. This time the siren stopped. Warren gave the battered alarm clock a victorious look, until he realized it meant he had to get out of bed. He dragged himself out of bed and made his way out of the cramped room into a dark hallway. Fumbling against the wall, he snapped the light switch on. His eyes winced from the painful illumination as he cautiously made his way to the base's medical brig.

"Doc, what's going on."

"Not much news from the perimeter. The probes all stopped at daybreak. Your guest from last night is laying over there. You could check on him."

Warren nodded and strolled over to Jim's bed. The marine was fast asleep. A happy grin was on his face, no doubt from the medication. Warren quickly scanned his chart and then made his way out. Jim was a good marine and deserved a nice undisturbed slumber. "Forgot to tell you, there is a mission briefing in an hour!" the doctor shouted after him as he left.

An hour gave Warren plenty of time to hit the mess hall. He gave a cook a look like he had just revealed the location of Earth when he slopped down a glop of mystery meat on his plate. He took his tray and grabbed a seat next to a couple of pilots he recognized.

"Hey guys."

"Hi. Oh, hey, your the medic guy, right."

"Warren Hughley's the name, but you can call me Slash, everyone else does."

"My name's Maria, and the pretty boy to my right here is Garit, but everyone calls him Quickly."

"Why Quickly?"

"Because that's how he does everything, if you get what I mean." Maria's comment was accompanied by several lewd gestures and all three burst out laughing.

"Really though, its because I got in the flight program a year before everyone else. My dad was on the Air Marshall's staff and got me in early."

"Wow, you were really in a hurry to get yourself killed," said Warren.

"Ah, what can I say, I was young and foolish."

"Oh, and your not foolish now?" laughed Maria.

Quickly shot her a glare, but soon broke out into a playful grin. Warren was rapidly gaining the impression that his two table companions were something of an item.

"What about you, Slash?" Maria asked. "Being a frontline medic is hardly the safest place to be."

"Oh, it's all an act. I'm really a coward inside, I've just got to keep doing things like this to prove to myself how brave I am."

"Well, we could use more guys like you just the same. I hope you'll excuse us for leaving so soon, me and my friend have a meeting shortly, and we have to go, uh," they each shot each other furtive glances, "prep."

Warren gave his food a disgusted look and said, "It's O.K., I'm not that hungry anyway."

Warren policed his tray and checked the time. Still having roughly half an hour before the meeting, he made his way back to the medical ward and was greeted once more by Dr. Riveria.

"Hey Warren, I forgot to tell you, that term extension form you requested has come in, if your still interested."

Warrens good humor was suddenly disspelled. About a month ago he had inquired about continuing his stint in the UNSC for another two years. The pay was decent, the work relatively light for a doctor, and he had the respect of the enlisted men, but the prospect of spending two more years on the frontlines was not a pleasant one. His own words from lunch came back to haunt him. "Tell you what Doc, start the paperwork on it, but don't send it out until next week, I'm still not certain."

"I understand, Warren. This is a tough decision for any young man to make."

"Yeah, uh, I'm going to check on Jim now." Warren was anxious to relieve himself of the conversation.

"Hey Jim, how ya feelin'."

"Oh, much bedda, suh. The doc, he does git me sum mofeen, an' de pain it go ride away." Jim still had the happy grin on his face, and his thick Creole accent was even harder to discern as he slurred his words.

"Good. Well, I'm just going to re-wrap these bandages for ya, and I'll let you get back to sleep."

"T'ank ya, suh. An didja here wat happen' to dat 'lite dat I shot?"

"Oh yea, you blasted his leg clean off. You really got him a lot worse than he got you, if I must say."

"I did tell ya I shot 'is leg off, suh, I did speak de trufe."

"That you did, Jim. That you did." By the time Warren finished bandaging his leg, the burly marine had already dozed off. He quietly made his way out of the medical ward to the conference room.

The conference proved to be an immense bore to Warren. The new base commander had a policy of briefing every branch of the attacking force together, to "improve coordination," as he said. Warren couldn't deny that the battles had been more cleanly fought lately, he just couldn't stand a briefing that went on so long about matters that had little importance to him. When it was finally over, Warren had discerned that an attack was being launched against the Covenant base that was acting as the launchpoint for all those annoying probes of late. The attack was scheduled to be begin at approximately 0800, and Warren had the late shift again, meaning he couldn't expect more than a couple hours of sleep tonight.

Warren went back to the medical ward and picked up his gear. Dr. Riveria didn't seem to be around and Jim was still happily dozing, so Warren made another quiet departure and headed towards the base walls. He spent the next couple hours going from one position to the next, checking on soldiers and exchanging jokes. Warren could see each soldiers face light up when he sat down to talk to them. Many of the men had been out in their posts for hours, some for days without a break. Spending a few minutes talking to someone new always brightened them up.

It had been dark for about an hour or so when Warren came to Lt. Gregory "Fubar" Hines machine gun nest. "Hey Fubar, how's it going."

"Hey Slash, you get the night shift again?"

"Yeah, I must have pissed off the C.O. or something."

"Well it's good your here, I've got a new recruit to introduce to you." The Lieutanant flipped on his radio, "Taylor, get your ass down here." He switched it back off and said, "You'll like Taylor. The kid's strong as an ox, but ain't much smarter."

A broad shouldered marine came jogging up, standing more erect than any veteran would dare. "Dammit Taylor, what have I told you about staying behind cover."

"Sorry sir."

"Don't let it happen again," he said with a glare. The bigger man seemed to cower a bit. "This here is Doc Hughley, but call him Slash. He's the guy you want to see first if you have any trouble, don't bother with those other quacks."

"Oh, uh, hi sir. Uh, sir, can I ask you about something?" The young marine seemed to be intimidated by the Lieutanant, despite his superior size.

"Go ahead."

"Well sir, its, uh, its my feet sir. They so damn uncomfortable in these boots."

Warren laughed. "That's no problem, just go down to the quartermaster and pick up a new pair, and make sure you change your socks often."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir. Well, I'm going to go back to my post, if that's O.K. with you, sir."

The Lieutanant nodded, and Taylor got up to leave, but as he did, a brilliant flash of light lept out of the forest and struck him in the head, toppling him over. Warren saw the Lieutanent jump for the machine gun and begin pumping out untargeted shots, while he made his way to where the body lay. Taylor face, or what was left of it, was barely recognizable. His hair burned in patches, and Warren took out a strip of cloth and smothered the fires. This injury was beyond his ability to heal. The sounds of gunfire grew louder as more assault rifles joined in, and then two concussion grenades rang out in succession and everything was quiet.

"Dammit," Fubar muttered. "If I've told that boy once, I've told him a million times to keep his head down. It's not our fault, ya know. The damn UNSC sends half these guys in green. They don't have a chance." He voice was both sad and angry.

Warren tried to say something to comfort the Lieutanent, but no words would come. The rest of the night was a blur. No more attacks came, but Warren still had to stay out in the lines. He couldn't get the image of what he had just seen out of his head, and when dawn finally broke, he staggered to his room and lay in his bed, restless.





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