The Techie's Story
Posted By: SeverianofUrth<firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: 29 April 2004, 10:38 PM
I've never been too patriotic. It always seemed to me that there was no reason for me to die for something or someone that never really cared for me at all; after all, what matters if Earth is destroyed or not? Doom always comes in one form or the other; why worry about others when the only death you'll ever feel is your own?
But somehow, I am here on Foothold, the planet crucial to the human offensive ready to be unleashed on the Covenant homeworld.
Like I said, I'm not patriotic. It wasn't love for the outdated sense of patriotism for one's country, nor for the planet Earth itself; the reason I joined the military was that if I remained as a civilian, there was no way to defend myself should the battle reach the underground quarters of Los Angeles. Also, food was scarce for civilians, and I figured that before I died I might as well as carry a gun and eat well.
I never fulfilled those things. I'm a techie, so I've never carried a gun; and since I'm not up on the front, I've never eaten too well. But still, I'm living, so that counts for something I guess.
Anyways, my job is to maintain the Mantra plasma panels: an easy task, simple to do. At least, it WAS my job. Now I'm up here trying to fix the goddam rifles the green ones always seem to bust; the new plasma-encased bullets jam up the rifles pretty bad, and the new ones always ignore the command to never fire on full-automatic. And the Helljumpers are even worse- the cocky bastards think their the best. Sure, they might do all the dangerous tasks, and they might go through training surpassed only by those Greek robot-soldier things, but still, shouldn't they at least acknowledge that we techies are the backbone of the army? WE fix their goddam suits, WE fix their goddam rifles, WE build their goddam newfangled orbital insertion pods, WE maintain their beloved new rifles- I doubt they see me and all the techies as nothing but computer-geeks.
I'm going off the tracks here. Sorry. Anyways, I'm trying to tell you what happened before I died (yeah, heaven does exist, even though it's made of a giant ring floating of clouds with homicidal angels prowling the streets).
I was fixing the beforementioned goddam rifles, when suddenly, there came a warning- "WHEEING! WHEEING!" And the command to get in battle stations came up. Secret Covenant attack, I think. So I run up- don't know where the goddam battle station for techies are- and get in the front bays, where a bunch of -get this- Helljumpers are setting up a small blockade. And one glares at me, stares through that creepy visor and looks at my techie badge, and says, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Battle Stations," I say. (And I think, 'ASSHOLE!')
"Battle Stations? Aren't you techs supposed to go towards the interior bay?" Oh, damn.
"Nope. You got it wrong, pal-"
"Sir, not pal. Sir."
"Right. Sir. The commanding officer of the interior commanded me to come here. Said something about helping out with grenades and such. Recon and peep the Covenants, he said."
"Oh, really... Oh well. Just check the grenades, then. Get yourself a gun, and go up along the right wall, and stack some of the shields there." I nodded, and did, what, he, told, me, to, do. (Hmm... Now that I look at it, I'm a bitchy bastard)
And then the Covenant came bursting through the doors, a purple bike leading the way. It started shooting everywhere. Somehow my pants got wet.
I don't remember much of what happened; I remember ducking into a corner as the soldiers fought behind the defenses. Then, suddenly, there was a giant crash, and I saw the shields I set up just get knocked down by a Hunter.
So I got up somehow, shot down a grunt by mistake, shouldered aside a Helljumper, and started running down the corridor with piss streaming down my legs. Not the most heroic, of course, but then, I wanted to LIVE.
Everywhere I went I saw wreckages and corpses; headless bodies of men and women, and some grunts and jackals.
I followed the green arrow, until I reached at last the escape pods. Then, some Covenant burst through. And I thought then inanely, "How the hell did they storm a planetary base unawares?" before, suddenly, a Elite jumped up-
And was knocked down with a roaring rocket. Shrapnel fell everywhere; My arms and chest were cut everywhere, and blood started oozing out. I think I pissed again.
"You okay, soldier?" Someone, the one who fired the rocket. "You okay?"
"yeah, I'm alright, paly- Sir." I stagger along, aided by the colonel-sergeant-chief-whatever (I'm not good at distinguishing those damn things) to the escape pods.
And the last surprise.
A throng of men were gathered around the entryway; apprently, the people inside were trying to leave before more could get in, the people outside trying to get in. They fought, screamed, clawed, until at last a burst of automaticgunfire followed, and then finally a screaming mosh pit of guns, knives, fists, and plasma-enhanced stilettos. Blood flowed everywhere; people were keeling over left and right.
At that time, all my thoughts were bent on watching that horrible display, so I didn't notice someone leveling their weapon at me, obviously mistaking me for a contestant to a seat on the pod, (which, I had noticed, had already left) and shot me.
And so I died. I died, killed by a fellow man, who was in turn stabbed in the back by another man, who was then mauled to death by a marauding Brute.
What follies we men make.