Freddie's War: Chapter Four
Posted By: Jason Nash<rjnash@optusnet.com.au>
Date: 28 May 2005, 8:47 AM
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The midday sun shone through the gathering clouds. The clouds were a sign that PT-569's wet season was coming.
Freddie was sitting on a metal crate labeled 'AMMUNITION', drinking out of a bottle of water. He was totally bored, and so were his troops. They were all looking forward to their attack on the Covenant base happening tonight.
He looked around. Why had it suddenly gone all dark? He wondered, only to have rain start to pour down on top of him in hammering sheets. He walked back inside his tent as his troops ran around outside, trying to cover up their not-waterproof equipment in large blue tarps.
Freddie looked at his watch. 1305 hours PT-569 time. He sat in his chair in his tent and, as he always did after lunchtimes on PT-569, he started to read one out of the assortment of different kinds of magazines he had stashed under a little shelf in one corner of the tent.
The wind buffeted against his tent. He was amazed at how quickly the weather had changed: one minute it was scorching hot, the next it was pouring down rain.
Freddie turned the page in the magazine he was reading. These days, most people tended to go for the electronic magazines, but Freddie still liked the old fashioned paper ones where you did something called 'turning the page', in which you turned over a sheet of paper to be met with yet another sheet of paper. The technology of this era had made many of the old way of turning pages long forgotten.
He read something about 'Salt—An Epicure's Delight' when a gust of strong wind blew over the tent next to Freddie's, which knocked into Freddie's tent, knocking over his shelf, spilling out a whole lot of electronic books. Freddie got out of his chair and went to pick them up when he saw one of the electronic books he had stashed behind all the others so he would hopefully never see it again. It was his brother's journal.
Fifteen years earlier...
The drop-ship landed, and Freddie and the troops stormed out. Freddie's brother ran ahead of the group, as it was his job to; he was the division commander.
When the drop-ship had left, they all started to slowly move forward. Freddie's brother turned to face them:
"Okay, we're three kilometers south of the Covenant base, but we're not exactly safe. Ghosts and Banshees are constantly patrolling the area," Freddie's brother explained.
The environment around them was humid and covered in thick underbrush and tall, leafy green trees. Freddie wiped the sweat that was building up on his umbrella.
"Move out!" Freddie's brother exclaimed, and they started the fairly long walk to the Covenant base.
"I figure that the Covenant on this PT-569 planet are scared about something," Sergeant Greg Walters said, taking a sip from his cup of hot tea.
"I'd say that's true. They're acting so strange and odd. It's as if they're scared; they don't usually take prisoners. Our Don Groving is their prisoner. They usually would've killed him on the spot," Captain Bob Harris added, taking a sip from his cup of hot tea.
They were in the officer's quarters of the ship Esperanto, a medium-sized military spacecraft. The white painted walls of the officer's quarters provided some contrast to the conversation.
"Research has suggested that that planet may have a few dark secrets," Walters said, taking another sip from his tea.
"Damn right. Maybe we should send a scientific team down to investigate. We've discovered a series of underground tunnels on the planet. And we should tell Freddie that the Covenant have got one of his men prisoner."
Bob ruffled his brown hair with his left hand and scratched at a rather nasty mosquito bite he had got the day before on a jungle planet he had visited to help set up an outpost. After that, he had been called aboard the Esperanto to talk with Walters about Freddie's mission.
"I say, that Freddie lad is totally mentally unstable. We should go down and remove him from the mission," Walters said.
"I'm not quite sure. Freddie is quite a nice lad. I knew him from high school."
"He wasn't a total nutter then," Walters said.
"I'm just trying to say, Freddie has good talent. He's good at what he does, and we should appreciate his help. But I suspect that he and his division are in danger: but the only question is, from what?"
"Exactly, old chap! What! What indeed!" And with that, Walters gulped down his tea and left the room.
Bob stared at his cup of tea, then he, the man who owns six mansions on every continent of the world and also owns a franchise of fitness gyms with a sporting and military background gulped down his tea and went to radio Freddie on the current situation.
Freddie himself had snapped back to reality from his flashback to hear the sound of a voice coming out of the several pieces of communication equipment lined against the inside walls of the main tent. The voice played out across the camp:
"To all UNSC personnel: This is a message from Captain of the UNSC military ship, Esperanto, Bob Harris. To all UNSC personnel on the planet known as PT-569: you are in immediate danger. This is not a drill: There is a threat other than the Covenant on the planet. You should all try to hold your ground while we send in a scientific team to investigate..."
(Note: This is to all those people out there who think Freddie is a Spartan. He is not a Spartan, otherwise I would have said so earlier in the series.)
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