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Long Time Gone Reveille Part One: Introductions and Informalities
Date: 4 October 2007, 3:38 am

Long Time Gone Part One: Introductions and Informalities

January 29th, 2550, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Capital City of Kinshasa, Coalition Forward Staging Area Mike, 1230 Hours

      From a dancing swirl of red dust brought up from the loose dirt runway by a DC-88 "Pelican" drop ship, Specialist Private First Class Chris William McAllen of the Australian Defence Force appeared. McAllen stood on the rear platform of the transport, kit bag hanging from one hand, rifle in the other with only the starch beauty of Africa to greet him.
      With a reluctant step of uncertainty, Chris exited the craft; he had been the only trooper onboard the early morning flight from the supply bases to the south. A last minute replacement for a squad of experienced Coalition soldiers fighting the rebel forces in Africa's heartland.

      To Chris' left, a group of UNSC marines clad in anti-ballistic body armour and brandishing assault rifles rushed into a nearby DC-88 on the opposite landing pad in the base, obviously heading out on anti-Rebel activity Chris told himself looking around the Coalition base.

      With no welcoming party to tell him where to go or what to do, Chris swung his kit bag over his shoulder and headed for what appeared to be the mess hall in an attempt to find someone who could tell him what to do.

      Second Lieutenant Alison Marie Parker of the UNSC Marine Corps sat out in front of mess hall chatting with several other troopers when one of them made a motion to the approaching solider who was undoubtedly a rookie by the way looked around the base; trying to absorb as much as he could about its design.
      "Fresh meat," breathed a veteran marine with a smirk, "I'll give him a week before he's dead on the side of the road outside of Kinshasa like the last rookie we had."
      "Would be a shame," said a female marine looking closely at the approaching marine, "he's kind of cute."
      "Indeed," agreed Alison also with a smirk as she noted the man's medium build, appealing looks and blue eyes topped off with a mess of loosely kept sandy brown hair.

[Indent The soldier stopped several metres away from their group and dropped his kit bag as he stiffened to a salute upon noticing Alison's rank. Alison roughly returned the salute out of courtesy and leaned forward on her chair to listen what the man had to say.
      "Excuse me, Lieutenant..." Alison watched the man's eyes dart to her name tag above her left breast where they remained for just a second too long, "...Parker, I just got here on the last bird but I'm not sure where I'm supposed to go."
      "What unit are you in?" Queried Alison looking up at the soldier where she noted the strange uniform that he wore displaying the Australian flag on the right sleeve.

      Chris couldn't help but stare at the young Lieutenant seated in front of him. She was beautiful; her blue eyes denoted a serious nature as well a high level of intelligence, her auburn hair was tied neatly back in a cute tony tail and despite the loose nature of her fatigues, Chris could tell she possessed a pleasant physique.
      "Trooper," a voice brought him back to his senses, it was the Lieutenant, "what unit are you in?"
      "Uh..." Chris struggled to think of the name that had been printed on his orders. "I was ordered to report as a replacement for a Captain T. Foster's platoon... I think... ma'am."

      "Well you're in luck," said Alison, "I'm the second in command of Foster's platoon. I guess you're McAllen if you're the new guy, right?"
      "Yes si... ma'am, I'm PFC McAllen, reporting for duty." Chris stiffened for another salute.
      "Alright, alright, cut the formalities!" Joked Alison with a smile, "I'd suggest you go and drop you gear off at section three barracks and check your gear in over at master storage."

      "Thanks," said Chris offering a less formal salute this time and turning on his heel towards the barracks.
      "Hey!" Cried a voice behind him, Chris turned, it had been the Lieutenant, "nice to meet you by the way, I'm Lieutenant Parker. I'll see you around the base sometime, show you around the place if you want?"
      "Nice to meet you too, ma'am, and I'd like that very much," replied Chris with a smile as he turned and continued off towards the barracks with an extra spring in his step.

      "What was that all about?" Joked the female marine sitting next to Alison with a look of amusement on her face as the soldier walked away.
      "What was what all about?" Replied Alison not understanding what the marine meant.
      "Oh come on! You like him, don't you?"
      "Be reasonable!" Said Alison with a laugh, "he's cute, that's all, and needs someone to show him around the place. Besides, Jeremy is probably right, he'll be dead in a week..."

January 29th, 2550, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Capital City of Kinshasa, Coalition Forward Staging Area Mike, Master Storage, 1305 Hours

      Having dropped off his kit at the barracks and attempted to acquaint himself with other occupants of the barracks despite their obvious dislike of new recruits, Chris had turned towards Master Storage with rifle in hand and with his handgun in its holster.
      "Greetings, trooper," said the acting Quartermaster in a noticeable South African accent as Chris entered the building. Chris looked the man up and down; he was a young private with inquisitive brown eyes, dark hair and mildly attractive looks.
      "G'day," said Chris with a smile walking up to the counter and laying his rifle down, "a Lieutenant Parker suggested I check my gear in?"

      "Parker, eh?" Said the Quartermaster with a sly smile, "see anything you like?"
      "Can't say, I only just met her. She seemed a nice enough woman," said Chris noticing the gaze the Quartermaster had directed at Chris as he spoke, Chris pushed his rifle forward to avoid the issue of Lieutenant Parker.
      The Quartermaster eyed the rifle with a puzzled look, "what's that? I've never seen that issue before."
       "It's a newly issued SR-120 SOPMOD Carbine for Specialists in the Aussie Defence Force," said Chris looking at the rifle on the counter, "just picked it up before I shipped out. Not much to say really except it's fed from standard issue MA5B magazines for OSP."
      "Smart move," remarked the Quartermaster, "nearly the whole galaxy uses the '5B!"
      Chris laughed, "too right, mate, too right."

      "Anyway," continued Chris after an awkward pause between them, "what do I need to check in?"
      "Well I only need to get the serial and model number down so we can keep track of repairs, loss or damage to the units."
      "What about this?" Asked Chris removing his pistol from the holster, the Quartermaster had seen nearly every weapon in regular usage with the UNSC but he hadn't seen one of those pistols before.
      "Once again I have to ask, what's that?"
      "It's a Heckler und Koch Forty-Five," he replied laying it down on the counter for the Quartermaster to examine. Turning it over in his hands the Quartermaster noted its construction, particularly the primitive use of polymer for the fame and a heavy blued steel slide.
      "God this thing belongs in a museum to be completely honest, man," stated the Quartermaster handing it back, "Twentieth Century?"
      "Twenty First," replied Chris with a grunt as he holstered the pistol once more, "wait, do you need to record this?"
      "Don't bother," said the Quartermaster with a wave of his hand, "it's obviously not military issue and I doubt the UNSC could care less about what happened to it."
      "Yeah, I guess so," said Chris lowering his head in thought in whether to divulge some family history to a complete stranger. "It was a gift from my father when I joined up, from father to son, since the early two thousands I think. Well looked after."
      "It sure is," said the Quartermaster nodding, "must be worth a lot on the collector's market, it looks like it still has the original finish and what of the original parts?"
      "The finish is good but it's hardly got any original parts on the inside left, whenever my relative brought it he got a fair few spare barrels and parts, I've still got two spare barrels and one set of full internals left. Sadly with only that left, I don't think I could pass it on to my children if they joined the military."

      "Given the current situation, I think kids should be the last thing on your mind!" Said the Quartermaster with a troubled laugh, "if the real war starts spiralling out of control anymore, I doubt there will ever be another generation of humanity."
      Chris didn't say anything at first, only slowly nodding his head, "yeah, from the news things are looking pretty grim for us."
      "Yet here we are. We'd be a lot better off without all these rebellions popping up." Chris noticed the anger in the man's voice as he spoke. "Believe me there are some civil wars on the outer planets that make this lousy excuse of a rebellion look like a picnic."
      "Yep, we're getting fucked all over," said Chris now shaking his head in disgust, "you think with the prospect of annihilation looming, humanity would finally have learnt to stick together but no. Hostilities are as rife as ever."
      "Sadly that's what makes us human," said the Quartermaster solemnly, it was apparent to Chris the quartermaster had ill feelings towards rebel forces but why was yet to be known.

      "Anyway I bet you've got something more interesting today then here me babble," said the Quartermaster recording the serial number of the rifle, "by the way if you just shipped in, what unit are you in?"
      "Foster's platoon," replied Chris.
      "Hey, same as me!" Said the Quartermaster extending a hand, "I can see we'll be seeing a lot of each other then, let me introduce myself, I'm Michael Chambers."
      "Nice to meet you, Michael," said Chris shaking his hand, "I'm Chris McAllen."
      "Please, call me Chambers, everyone else does and it's nice to meet you too, McAllen."

[B January 29th, 2550, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Capital City of Kinshasa, Coalition Forward Staging Area Mike, Enlisted Mess, 1920 Hours

      Despite the increased rebel activity around Kinshasa, there was no news about patrols for Foster's platoon that night; Chambers invited Chris to the Mess Hall to get further acquainted with one another.
      "So you were born here?" Chris questioned judging from Chambers' accent, "in Africa, in the Congo?"
      "Well not here," said Chambers nursing a beer, "I was born in Botswana, it's further south. My father was the head miner of an iron ore mine there."
      "Was?" Queried Chris as he noted Chambers' grave tone.
      "He died eight weeks ago," breathed Chambers in a flat voice.
      "Oh, sorry, mate," said Chris, "I had no idea."
      "Neither did my mother," spat Chambers, "no one did until it was too late and my hometown was attacked by rebels."
      "Why would they attack civilians?" Said Chris puzzled, "I mean, aren't they trying to win the hearts and minds of the people just as much as us?"

      "True but when UNSC forces made a sweep of the area several days prior, they passed through the town. I heard one of the younger children of the town ran up to the UNSC soldiers and told them about 'bad men with guns' who came the previous day and scared him and hurt his parents.
      "When asked which direction they headed, the child gave pretty much an exact location of a nearby rebel safe house which was quickly taken out." Chambers made the motion of an explosion with his hands and snorted what almost appeared to be laughter.
      "Rebels from another group came in later that night and killed lot of people. Men, women and children; however my mother and brother had been spared by some twist of fate. Although the killings served as a message to anyone else to not even think about betraying them for the consequences would be dire."

      "That's horrible," remarked Chris, "how can you kill women and children let alone unarmed civilians?"
      Chambers didn't say anything at first, "they're not human, those rebels, they're monsters. Rabid dogs even, and there is only one way to deal with a rabid dog; one between the eyes."
      "So you were obviously in the UNSC before that happened, right?" Asked Chris.
      "Yep, two years next July."
      "How long have you been here?" Asked Chris.
      "I shipped in with Lieutenant Parker little over a year ago."
      "You've been here that long?"
      "Well the longer you stay, the shorter the days seem to travel," remarked Chambers pouring another beer from the pitcher and offered to refill Chris' glass but he declined.
      "How well do you get on with the Lieutenant?" Chris asked fishing for information.
      "We're not like that," scoffed Chambers, "we're just friends. But don't worry, I've tried," Chambers laughed to himself, "man that ended in flames!"
      "Ice Queen, huh?" Joked Chris.
      "Oh yeah," said Chambers holding a finger up on his hand as a warning, "she's not to be messed with!"

      "Enough politics," said Chris still laughing, "what role are you in the squad?"
      "CQC," smirked Chambers.
      "CQC? As in a shotgun?"
      "Yep, things can get pretty messy though," commented Chambers with a chuckle.
      "I can imagine," replied Chris, the image of a corpse shredded in places left over from a shotgun blast clouded his thoughts.
      "What about you?" Asked Chambers, "why are you here?"
      "Like I said before, father to son. Very strong military tradition in my family," Chris said nodding to himself as the memories of his father's aspirations being pushed upon him.
      "Anything noteworthy in your family's military history?"
      "My uncle died at Harvest," replied Chris grimly, "one of the first to die I might add but that ain't exactly something you'd win a medal for."
      "What about your father?"
      "Dead."
      "Seems we have a lot in common," said Chambers lightly trying to cheer Chris up, "what about the rest of your family?"
      "They're dead too," said Chris losing his voice momentarily, "my mother, two brothers and a younger sister, all dead."
      "Jesus, man," breathed Chambers, "your entire family is dead? What the hell, I only lost my father, but to lose everyone dear to you?"
      "Happened a while ago now on the outer colonies," Chris rolled his eyes in thought and faked the motion of rubbing his eyes to conceal the tears forming, "some bloody holiday planet that was attacked and glassed by the Covenant, I forget which. I had an invitation to come along on that family holiday but I had joined the ADF three weeks prior and was still in the midst of boot so I couldn't go anyway. It was another three weeks when the reports of the attack reached Earth."

      "Well it's lucky you didn't go or you would be dead too. Call it fate?"
      "Nah, I don't believe in that crap," said Chris, "a strong man makes his own future."
      "Well I do so I'm going to call it fate, friend," said Chambers with a smile, "there was a reason why you enlisted when you did and why you survived whilst the rest of your family perished."
      "What am I going to save the universe?" Laughed Chris, "it's just luck. Now that's something I believe in but luck can't last."
      "Perhaps," said Chambers, "but why are you here and not fighting the Covenant."
      "The Covenant aren't a happy subject for me," said Chris in a low voice, "besides, I didn't want to head to the front as a rookie. My CO said I should volunteer for the Coalition effort in Africa for some easy points and maybe climb the ladder a little before the real deal."
      "I see," said Chambers, "well what did you do in the ADF?"
      "Well, I trained as a sniper right out of boot then was offered slot in the Commandos. Where I completed the extra training and achieved my rank of Specialist, Private First Class."
      "That's why you got the SOPMOD, right?" Asked Chambers.
      "Exactly," said Chris, "I only completed my training two months ago where I was stuck in a unit that acted as OpFor at a training base at Wagga Wagga."
      "OpFor?"
      "Opposing Force, we acted as the 'bad guys' for the troops in training."
      "So you're really not the rookie everyone seems to think, are you?"
      "Well," started Chris, "I'm not exactly a rookie in general terms of a soldier straight out of boot but I have no real combat experience. Everything outside of training and OpFor exercises has been Virtual; lots and lots of virtual training. What about you? Any combat experience?"
      "Well I've killed a few people, let's just leave it at that," replied Chambers trying not to think of the lives he had taken.

      "Any for avenging your father's death?" Chris asked and Chambers nodded slowly.
      "It's just..." stammered Chambers, "some people just need killing you know? And no one needs it more than those rebels for what they did to my father and my village."
      "Hey, I understand," said Chris with a chuckle now trying to lighten the situation, "you're talking to the guy who has an uncle, a mother, a father, two brothers and a sister to avenge."
       Chambers returned the laugh, "yeah, compared to you, I've got it pretty easy, man."
      "That's the spirit!" Said Chris patting Chambers on the back then checking his watch, "alright it's about twenty to eight, I think I'll go for a walk before going to bed."
      "Bed?" Questioned Chambers, "lights out isn't for at least another two hours."
      "I know, I'm just feeling a little tired, I'll see you back at the barracks." With that Chris left the mess hall, passing Lieutenant Parker on the way out with a courteous nod.

      "Hey Mike," said Alison seeing Chambers sitting alone at a table, "you all alone?"
      "No, no," said Chambers, "I was just talking to the new guy in the platoon; just shipped in today."
      "McAllen?" Asked Alison genuinely.
      "Yep, that's him, Specialist Chris McAllen of the ADF," said Chambers smiling at his old friend.
      "Specialist?" Said Alison with a look of confusion, "but he's a rookie?"
      "He's Special Forces," replied Chambers.
      "So that what was classified about his file," stated Alison.
      "Classified?"
      "There were sections of his file that only the Captain could read. Everything past leaving basic had been painted over all up until a week ago where he volunteered for service here."
      "Well he's got something to prove volunteering here just for the experience. I would advise you to avoid pissing him off as he could have a bit of an anger issue. Not positive though, just something I felt talking to him."
      "Hah, men and anger, you're all the same!" Remarked Alison motioning to leave.
      "You two have one thing in common though I must say," replied Chambers sheepishly.
      "And what would that be?" Questioned Alison but Chambers only responded by shaking his head with a smile. "Whatever, I'll see you in the morning, Mike. Captain wants everyone prepped by oh-nine-thirty, full load out, food and water for three days, ammunition for six, the usual deal."
      "Roger, I'll let anyone I see, know what's going on."

January 30th, 2550, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Capital City of Kinshasa, Coalition Forward Staging Area Mike, 0920 Hours

      Chris was feeling nervous but also eager for combat and was the first of Captain Foster's platoon at the landing pads. Fully equipped with enough food and ammunition for two people for three days, Chris wanted to make sure he was prepared for the worst.
      The 'worst' also included combat, besides the extra ammunition for his rifle and handgun Chris also carried a double load of eight fragmentation grenades and two directional anti-personnel mines and to top it off he was wearing full body armour including a full HUD system contained in a set of wraparound glasses.
      Chris had a white marker and was carefully scribing his blood type 'O+' onto each of his shoulder plates as his drill instructor insisted he do in case his IFF implant failed and he was injured.
      "You're here early," Chris spun surprised as if caught in the middle of committing a crime but was relieved to see a man in UNSC olive drab marine fatigues complete with Captain rank bars on his shoulders and helmet.
      "Captain Foster?" Questioned Chris as he raised an arm to salute his superior who promptly responded in kind.
      "Correct," answered Foster looking at the soldier in front of him, "I guess from the uniform you must be the new Special Forces trooper, McLean?"
      "That would be McAllen, sir," said Chris adjusting his rifle sling to expose his name tag on the front of his vest.
      "Oh sorry, how stupid of me," said Foster looking at Chris' armour, "blood type on your armour, eh? That's bad luck, you know that, right?"
      "No it will really be bad luck if they have to read this for my blood type," replied Chris looking down at the dog tag wedged between the tongue of his combat boot and laces.
       "True," said Foster smiling, "well it looks like you don't fuck around. Got enough food and ammo for the patrol?"
      "I brought twice the recommended amount, sir."
      "Well I wouldn't have suggested it but I'm not the one carrying your pack." Foster looked over his shoulder and saw the rest of the platoon rousing, "good, it's time we got this show on the road."

January 30th, 2550, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Capital City of Kinshasa, Coalition Forward Staging Area Mike, 0940 Hours

      Captain Foster's platoon waited patiently at the landing pads for their transports to arrive but they were running late due to shortages of drop ships in the area as of an over stretched supply line. Chris found himself pushed towards the rear of the group, feeling the like the loner with his lack of combat experience and vastly different uniform; coloured a light yellow-brown with selections of darker browns and dashes of white compared to the regular UNSCMC olive grab fatigues.
      "Can you hold my rifle?" Asked a feminine voice behind Chris, he turned and recoiled in surprise at the walking shrubbery in front of him. It was a sniper in a full ghillie suit; a suit that is worn over regular fatigues and armour as a means of breaking up a sniper's outline and enabling them to blend in with the surroundings.
      "Lieutenant Parker?" Asked Chris staring into familiar eyes left exposed from the ghillie suit hood.
      "Yeah that's me," responded Parker removing the hood, "could you hold my rifle? I forgot something from the armoury."
      "Sure," said Chris taking Parker's sniper rifle, "I had no idea you were a sniper."
      "I had no idea that you were a Specialist until Chambers told me," countered Parker, "and don't say I never asked."
      "Well you didn't," said Chris with a smile to which Parker laughed as she ran for the armoury. Chris let his eyes drift and watched the rhythm of her movement as she ran back towards the armoury. Shaking his head to regain his thoughts; Chris finally looked at Parker's rifle.

      At first glance it appeared to be a regular S2 AM because of its familiar components but it was much shorter and Chris soon saw why. The weapon had been modified into a 'bull-pup' configuration with the magazine located behind the trigger to maximize barrel length whilst lightening the weapon and reducing overall length.
      "Very nice," commented Chris examining the customized rifle and then remembered the ID chip implanted in most UNSC weapons, with a tap of several buttons on his HUD keyboard attached to his left forearm, Chris soon saw what the chip contained: 'S2 AM S issued to Lieutenant Alison Marie Parker, UNSCMC'. "Alison..." murmured Chris to himself, "so that's your name is it now?"
      Curious as of how the rifle felt, Chris brought the rifle up to his shoulder and looked down the scope. Upon a close examination of the non-HUD linked optic scope he noticed one of the mounts had a screw that was somewhat loose and allowed the scope a fraction of movement in the mounts. Chris removed a kit from his pack that contained the tools of a sniper for adjusting scopes that he carried for the sights of his assault rifle; from which he used an Alan key to fasten the mount in place.
      Then to make sure the rifle was still sighted in, he also removed a sighting laser and placed it down the barrel of the rifle and tested the setting at two hundred metres on a distant building. The sight was off by several millimetres at the eye piece even on such a low magnification that if it was to be left uncorrected, it could be off as much as a foot at the target at longer ranges.
      "I hope she doesn't get mad," remarked Chris with a nervous glance about himself as he removed the protective adjustment cap to gain access to the adjustment dials were located and sighted the rifle back in.

      Alison returned from the armoury with a box of ammunition under her arm. "Don't tell me you forgot the ammunition?" Chris asked trying not to laugh as he replaced the adjustment cap back onto the scope without Alison noticing.
      "No, I just thought I'd bring another box," said Alison taking her rifle back from Chris, "there were reports of heavy rebel activity in the region surrounding our drop point."
      "Sure you've got enough?" Asked Chris, a standard box of UNSC fourteen point five millimetre APFSDS rounds only contained twelve bullets.
      Alison smiled and unzipped her ghillie suit front exposing her webbing; there were four pouches containing two extra magazines each and at least another box worth of loose bullets contained in a large pouch in her webbing. "It's better to be safe than sorry," remarked Alison zipping her ghillie suit back up.
      "I hear that," said Chris patting a satchel slung over his shoulder that contained an extra eight MA5B magazines.
      "Going to start a war?" Joked Alison with a smile.
      "No but I'm looking to finish one!" Chris replied with equal humour as he noticed a low droning sound in the distance. "Sounds like our rides." Chris put the Alan key and laser back into his sighting kit and was just about to place the kit back in his pack when Alison noticed what he was doing.
      "What's that?" Questioned Alison noting Chris' look of alarm at her noticing the kit.
      "I saw the scope was off on your rifle," said Chris warily, "so I took the liberty of sighting it back in for two hundred metres, UNSC standard I was going to tell..."
      "Y... you..." stammered Alison, lost for words, "...did what!?"
      "The scope was off..." Remarked Chris innocently.
      "You tampered with my rifle," started Alison, her voice still calm but Chris could tell her patience had been tested beyond breaking point. "What gives you the right to touch my gear? No, no, to change the settings of my gear? Fair enough if it was someone who knew what they were doing but you!? A damn rookie! What do you know about sighting in a rifle!?"
      "Hey you gave it to me, I was just trying to help," replied Chris holding his hands up as a sign of peace whilst inside he tried to refrain from becoming angry himself.
      "You wanted to help?" Said Alison, "I'll say this once and once only, never touch my gear again..." Alison narrowed her eyes squarely at Chris, "...or I'll kill you." With that Alison left Chris lost for words as she walked over and stood with Captain Foster on the landing pad.

      Chris' hearing had not failed him and as expected, a trio of 'Pelican' drop ships approached from the south-east. The drop ships began their decent with an unrelenting gale kicked up by each of the drop ships' four VTOL engines.
      "Alright, troops," called Foster above the din, "first squad with Sergeant Bernard in that drop ship, second squad with me and third squad with Lieutenant Parker to the remaining drop ship!" In a well organized manner the troops rushed to their drop ships, all par one.
      "What squad am I in?" Piped Chris feeling the sense of embarrassment coupled with panic as the men and women around him rushed into their respective drop ships, "which squad am I in!?"
      "Over here!" Cried Chambers from the third squad drop ship, "you're with me, come on!"
      Chris rushed into the drop ship, ignoring Alison and gave a polite nod to the waiting pilot who immediately begun the takeoff procedure as Chris took a seat next to Chambers. "You know, friend, you could have at least stood with me so I knew what the fuck was going on."
      "No worries," Chambers said amused, "what are friends for?" Chris just shook his head in frustration as the drop ship lurched in mid air as the engines rotated from their six o'clock position, to their three o'clock position and they were away.

Long Time Gone Reveille Part Two: What You Live By
Date: 2 November 2007, 10:36 am

Long Time Gone Part Two: What You Live By

January 30th, 2550, the Democratic Republic of Congo, One Hundred and Thirty Three Kilometres North-West of the Capital City of Kinshasa, near the river Djouè, Drop Point Charlie, 1030 Hours

      The Bachokwe Rebellion started in the year two thousand and forty eight after small intertribal fighting escalated into a brutal territory war on the border of the African nations of the Congo and Zaire. It was a conflict whose very existence was fuelled by ancient tribal rivalries that could be traced back before the existence of recorded history. Initial UNSC reactions to the increasingly bloody conflict were slow with only a small contingent of peace keeping forces deployed for the media and with little in the way of economic aid for the destroyed villages and cities left in the wake of war.
      Oddly, it was this obvious lack of UNSC involvement that somehow, the fighting sides thought that this was greater than their personal squabbles and the minute civil war turned into a fanatical rebellion against the UNSC's incompetence overnight. It spread from region to region until nearly two thirds of Africa fell under the flag of the Bachokwe Rebellion; fittingly coloured a blood red.

      The UNSC responded quick and harshly against this threat to their power with the deployment of over six million combat troops to quell the rebellion that at the time consisted of some ten million insurgents. The UNSC's deployment included a detachment of fifteen thousand Special Forces inserted and spread around the area of Kinshasa; where the rebellion originated from and where the main rebel leadership resided. The Special Forces were to be tasked with disrupting the rebels whilst ground troops moved from still UNSC friendly nations.
      Yet even the Special Forces met harsh resistance and were nearly wiped out with surprising tenacity on the behalf of poorly trained rebel forces. So fierce was their resistance, the UNSC was forced to take the continent back one country at a time in a deadly war of attrition.
      Two years later and nearly eight million dead, the UNSC finally had the rebellion all but crushed and confined near the border of the Congo and Zaire in an ever tightening ring. The rebels were most predominately located around the Congolese capital city of Kinshasa and it's heavily forested areas preventing full UNSC incursions against the rebels that remained at large while their numbers continued to grow with each passing day.

      However the politics of the conflict meant little to 'Specialist' PFC Chris McAllen sitting with his shoulders hanging low in thought as he spun his rifle around in circles on the deck of the drop ship by the weapon's stock
       "Tsk, tsk," sounded Lieutenant Alison Parker contemptuously to Chris from the front of the drop ship over the din of the other conversations in the troop compartment of the drop ship, or the 'blood deck' as it was affectionately known. "You couldn't even remember what squad you were in. Some Specialist you turned out to be."
      "I never knew what squad I was in," said Chris feeling somewhat ashamed of his fright and lack of professionalism at the situation of not knowing something as trivial as his squad. "It wasn't like when I got here someone pinned the bloody thing to my collar and..."
      "Hey that's a good idea," piped Alison bitterly, "I'll be sure to do that to the next rookie that comes along... And by the looks of things, he'll be joining us pretty soon after he replaces the rookie that's probably going to die this mission." The remark hit a sore spot in Chris consciousness and it took all of his energy to hold back his anger at his new Lieutenant. He was determined to prove his combat finesse to Parker and the platoon as a whole; maybe then he could finally find a sense comfort and not condemnation in their company for being the "rookie".

      With a sudden jolt the drop ship threw back its thrusters and came to a halt in midair without a word of warning from the pilots. The craft slowly commenced a rough landing procedure as it followed the other two drop ships on approach down to a large clearing in the thick jungle foliage near the river Djouè.
      Chris looked out the open rear of the Pelican and watched the thick waist high African grass become closer and closer as the drop ship lowered itself towards the ground. With a final whir of the engines the drop ship touched down on the somewhat soft marshlands of the riverside clearing.
      "Everybody out!" Alison announced as she stepped out of the drop ship ahead of anyone else as was her custom and moved to join Captain Foster, as he exited his own transport. Chris got up from his seat leisurely as the rest of the squad rushed to a location near the edge of the clearing that had flashed on their HUD with the order to set up a perimeter.
      "I guess I better join them," said Chris aloud as he locked a loaded magazine into his rifle and chambered the first round with several well rehearsed motions.

      "What's the plan, sir?" Alison asked Captain Foster as the drop ships took off and headed back to their base of operations.
      "We'll merge squad three with squads one and two for this action, Lieutenant," said Foster consulting his map of the region. "I'll lead Second Squad and take route Juliet and you take Romeo and we'll converge on objective X-Ray."
      "That's still a day's hike from here," said First Sergeant Bernard examining the map in Foster's grasp, "a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of Intel about where the enemy may be hiding."
      "It will be pretty touch and go, I know," said Foster before letting out a long breath, "but I think the troops will handle themselves well if there are any close encounters."

      "Everyone, sir?" Alison asked; doubting McAllen's response to a combat situation.
      "Oh I think the new guy will fair just fine, Lieutenant," said Foster nodding to himself, "yes, I've seen his type before. He may not look like much at the moment but there's no other soldier I'd like to have by my side if the shit hits the fan."
      "If you say so, sir," said Alison grudgingly out of courtesy.
      "Well if you're so concerned about him, Lieutenant," started Foster, it came across as more of an order than a request, "you take him."
      "Very well, sir," said Alison once more out of courtesy before looking at the map in Foster's hand once more before noting several extra features on her own copy of the map.
      "OK, you have your orders," said Foster loading his rifle, "we'll meet at objective X-Ray tomorrow evening if all goes to plan."
      "Yes sir," said Alison, "I presume I'll be taking command of second squad for the duration?"
      "Of course," said Foster before turning to Bernard and light-heartedly talking in a father's voice, "look after her now, you hear?"
      "Roger that, sir," replied Bernard laughing at the Captain's remark, "meet you at X-Ray."
      "See you there," said Foster moving towards the edge of the clearing, "alright Second Squad you're with me. Let's move!" Pre-chosen members from third squad notified via HUD broke away from their comrades and joined Captain Foster's group as they trekked into the jungle.
      "Rest of you, on me," said Parker slinging her rifle for the long patrol that lay ahead, "Fenning, you're on point."

January 30th, 2550, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Twenty-Five kilometres from drop off point Charlie, 1540 Hours

      Progress through the untouched jungles of the Congo had been slow as there was no one true path through the mess of the wild undergrowth. Chris found himself at the rear of the eighteen man patrol whilst the man on point was some two hundred metres ahead of the main group.
      "Fucking jungle," Chris breathed as he swatted a bothersome mosquito that had landed on his neck. Other members of the patrol had similar feelings as they batted away other annoying insects that plagued them.

      Alison was in the number four position of the patrol including the Scout. She had unzipped her ghillie suit to combat the humid conditions of the Congolese jungle; revealing her lack of cumbersome body armour in favour of comfort.
      The troops under her command had noticed Alison had shied away from her regular self; no longer was she cheerful and flamboyant in her interactions as they had grown to love. No, now she was withdrawn and irritated, grunting in reply and yelling at the slightest mistake in formation.

      Thoughts of doubt brought on by Alison's previous taunts filled Chris' mind; would he handle himself in combat? Could he pull the trigger with the intent to kill; not a paper target, but a living, breathing human being? Had the lifetime of training and commitment been worth it or would it all have been for nothing as he froze in the heat of battle?

      "What the hell was that!?" Chris cried on the network in alarm at the sound of a branch suddenly breaking behind him. Immediately he spun to his rear to face the origin of the sound and walked slowly backwards.
      "What was what, rookie?" Alison bitterly asked over the radio.
      "I could have sworn I heard something, Lieutenant," replied Chris eyeing the jungle suspiciously, "sounded like someone moving around behind us."
      "Oh come on, rookie, relax will you? Everyone's jumpy on their first patrol. It's just your nerves."
      Chris by now had stopped following the patrol and looked back down the path they had travelled with his rifle drawn to his eye. "Nerves don't make noise, Lieutenant."
      "Listen to me carefully, rejoin the squad, and shut the hell up," said Alison over the radio directly to Chris, "let the professionals worry about the enemy popping up."
      "I'm telling you, Lieutenant, I heard something!" Chris yelled over the radio, unable to remain quiet any longer at Alison's obvious disapproval of his input.
      "All I hear is a soldier who won't follow orders!" Alison yelled back, "this is your last chance! Join the squad and I promise we'll leave this out of the debriefing. Otherwise I'm placing you on report as soon as we get back to base. Do you understand!?"
      "You heard the woman, rookie!" Said Bernard angrily over the network, "get back into formation before I come and kick your fucking ass in!"
      "Roger that," said Chris complying to avoid the risk of a court martial more than Bernard's physical threat. His voice was laced with anger as he let out a sigh, "rejoining the squad."

      "Mike," said Alison, Chambers looked over his shoulder from the number three position in the line, "get to the rear and keep an eye on McAllen before he shoots himself in the foot or something."
      "Sure thing, Alison," said Chambers with a sigh of annoyance at being assigned to babysit the rookie even though he could consider this rookie as a friend.

      "Oh so now you lot don't trust me at the rear of the column?" Chris remarked angrily as he saw Chambers walking back down the line.
      "Parker just doesn't want you screwing up on your first patrol," said Chambers falling into line next to Chris. "Something has really gotten under her skin."
      "She's probably pissed at me," said Chris with a grunt. "I fixed the scope mount on her rifle and then I sighted it back in when she went to the armoury."
Indent]"What?" Said Chambers taken aback. "A sniper's rifle is their most treasured asset, it takes untold hours to get it tailored to their personal shooting style and you resighted it in ten seconds..."
      "Hey, you're preaching to the choir here, mate," said Chris looking at Chambers, "I'm a sniper too, remember? I think I'd understand the process a bit better than you do. Besides, I thought having a UNSC standard setting would be better than having incorrect settings because of something as trivial as a scope mount not being maintained."
      "That's true," said Chambers realizing Chris' heart was in the right spot, "why didn't you just tell her that?"
      "I didn't get a chance! She was yelling down my throat before I could even say a word. And I..." Chris paused as he adjusted his HUD glasses so he could rub his eyes before continuing, "I was nervous, alright?" He said resetting his glasses and looking away from Chambers in embarrassment, "so I thought I'd be the Good Samaritan and do it without her having to fret."

      "You like her, don't you?" Asked Chambers, Chris turned his head to face Chambers; his eyes somewhat showing surprise but it then slowly faded as he bit his lip for a moment.
      "She seems alright but what does it matter?" Chris sighed, "I'm not her most favourite person in the world; she'd sooner shoot me before she'd talk to me again.."
      "Well maybe you should just lay low and follow her orders," remarked Chambers, "and don't piss her off anymore than you need to!"
      "All I said was I heard something," Chris said ignoring the joke, "is that a bloody crime?"
      "Of course not," said Chambers genuinely, "but defying orders to rejoin the squad could be classed as an offence."
      "I was checking to make sure we weren't being followed."
      "Don't be crazy," said Chambers with a wave of a hand, "there isn't a rebel in fifty miles, this area is too remote for them to organize anything with any hope of reaching the capital."
      "But Parker told me there had been sightings of heavy rebel activity in this area before we boarded the drop ship?"
      "Well I guess I'm wrong then," said Chambers with a relaxed shrug of his shoulders, "that's why she's the Lieutenant and I'm just the stupid..."

      An easily heard sound of something hitting the ground off to Chris' left got his attention as he turned with his rifle at the ready. "You hear that?"
      "Yes I did, it sounded like someone falling over," said Chambers removing the safety from his shotgun before keying his microphone, "Parker, Chambers here. I just heard something."
      "Oh God, not you too" started Alison's crackling voice over the radio, "it's probably nothing, keep moving."
      "That wasn't nothing," affirmed Chambers over the radio, "someone or something is following us."
      "Don't be ridiculous..."

      Chris held his rifle tightly against his shoulder as he trained it where the sound had originated from. As Chambers had been talking to Alison over the radio, Chris had been tensely waiting; looking and listening for something to give away an enemy presence.
      Just as Chris was about to lower his rifle in disappointment, a man's head suddenly popped up over a bush twenty metres to his front. The dark face illustrated the same sense of surprise as Chris felt at the sight of an unidentified force.
      "Contact!" Yelled Chris over the radio in disbelief as the figure jumped to their feet yelling sharply in his native tongue.

Most probably cries of alarm but to whom?

      He could see the man was armed and sported an assortment of gear, from this Chris came to the conclusion that the man was a rebel, and a threat to his mission. Chris trained his rifle on the man effortlessly and was just about to take first pressure on the trigger as second figure appeared from the undergrowth and was closely followed by third.
      Chris' heart nearly skipped a beat as a chilling sense of excitement washed over his body with adrenaline pumping into his veins.
      All three figures saw that Chris was prepared to shoot and tried to escape into the dense jungle. Identifying them all as hostiles, Chris did not hesitate and lined up the first target; the endless hours of combat drills and thousands of rounds fired had trained his body well.
      Chris found it was just like shooting at simulated targets at the range as he fired with without a second thought at the three figures. Three sharp cracks echoed through the once quiet jungle and faded away into insignificance as quickly as they had come.

      "What!?" Shouted Alison over the radio as someone had yelled "contact" only for it to be followed closely by three rapid gunshots.

      "Clear up!" Chris said whilst still looking down the sights of his rifle at the three bodies lying before him.
      "Clear down... Wait, we've got a live one," Replied Chambers noting one of the figures was still moving, if ever so slight. With some hesitation on the prospect of the rebel was only acting he was serious injured; they advanced on the figure warily.

      "Who fired? Who fired God damn it!?" Alison yelled over the radio as she ran back down the line past her troops who had also started moving towards the gunshots. "Everyone take up defensive positions until we know what's happened."

      "Jesus," Chambers said amazed as he stood over the mortality wounded rebel; he had a bullet wound through the throat. Surges of a crimson liquid flowed from the wound with each heart beat; they could see the life drain from the man's face with each passing second. "That was some nice shooting!" Commented Chambers as he removed his handgun and removed the safety.
      "You know the rules about prisoners, you want the honours?" He enthusiastically asked, presenting Chris the pistol. Chris only looked back with a blank face before he slowly shook his head at the offer. "Fine..." Said Chambers pointing the handgun at the man's head, before thinking of what rebels like the one at his feet had done to his father and squeezed the trigger, "... see you in Hell."

      Chris looked away in disgust as the fourth and final gunshot echoed through the jungle. Once the sound had dispersed, Chris slowly turned back to face the three men lying dead in front of him where he had a chance to study their equipment. They were all dressed in various types of camouflaged fatigues, non-matching webbing systems and they also sported a variety of weapons. The radio present on one of the bodies confirmed Chris' feeling that these men had been following them and keeping tabs on them; most probably organizing an ambush up ahead.
      The two men who had been killed outright both laid motionless on the ground with blood pooling on the ground with pieces of bone and grey matter from expertly placed headshots on Chris' behalf.

      "What happened here?" Alison cried running over to Chambers and Chris where she was about to yell at them for not waiting for an order to engage when she noticed the groupings of the shots on two of the bodies. "Nice work, Mike," commented Alison after she noticed his smoking handgun.
      Chambers cleared his throat uneasily. "He shot them, Parker," he said nodding his head towards Chris who had a drained look upon his face. Chris silently observed the death he had wrought with a shaking hand as the adrenaline begun to thin out. This is nothing like VR he concluded as he felt his stomach churn at the sight of the dead rebels. His training had taught him how to kill without emotion and without fear but they could never teach him how to live with the guilt of having killed another human being.
      Alison appeared to have almost choked on air as she took in Chamber's statement. "You? You did that?" She said pointing at the three bodies, Chris slowly nodded his head as he looked at Alison making full eye contact.
      Alison stared into his eyes for a second, taking in the troubled look they revealed in Chris' character."I guess I was wrong about you," started Alison breaking the eye contact and looking to the side, "I'm sorry I dou..."

      Another source of gunfire erupted further up the trail and took everyone by surprise. "Lieutenant!" A voice called over the radio almost immediately after the gunfire start.
[indent["Fenning?" Alison turned towards the gunfire and placed a finger over her radio ear bud as she questioned the familiar voice of her scout, "what's going on?" Another long burst of gunfire echoed down the trail in response to the first.
      "I've made contact with a group of very pissed off rebels!" Cried Fenning, "they've got me outnumbered and outgunned. I need help and I need it fucking quick!"
      "Just hold on, Fenning. We're coming to you!" Said Alison already on the move, "everyone move up. Fenning is in trouble! Chambers, police these bodies for anything of value. McAllen!" Chris' spun surprised only to find her running up the trail, "you're with me, let's go!"

      Needing no further orders, the men and women of Alison's squad ran through the thick foliage towards Fenning's position. As they ran they could hear the gunfire intensify. The loud crackling of a marine issue MA5B assault rifle was easily recognized over the lesser rattling fire of the rebels assorted automatic weapons.
      Alison unconsciously flashed her left arm out to the left as a sign for the trooper immediately behind her to flank the rebels before signalling a group of three marines to take similar actions on the opposite side as she continued up the path towards the clearing with the rest of the squad.
      Chris felt his nerves calm and his shaking hands settle as the adrenalin once again took over. He let out deep breath, flashed his acknowledgement signal over Alison's HUD and ran off into the jungle, alone.

      Alison made it to the clearing that the distress call had originated from. Fenning was pinned down behind a large rock and was fumbling for a fresh magazine whilst trying to stay as low as possible. The rebels on the opposite side of the clearing to Alison and her squad were firing relentlessly at his position.
      Fenning raised his head above the rock for a quick glance only for his unarmoured head snap back from a lucky burst of fire from one of the group of at least a dozen rebels.
      "Fenning!" Yelled another marine in Alison's squad as he fired the remainder of the belt of ammunition from his light machine gun into the trees, "you bastards!"
      "Get down you idiot, you're just wasting ammunition!" Yelled Alison at the gunner as the rebels began to fire on her squad without the suppressing fire of the machine gun.
      Ducking low below the tall grass, Alison moved to a tree for cover and levelled the cross hair of her scope impulsively on one of the zealous rebels in her sight and fired. A sharp crack indicated the fourteen point five by one hundred and fourteen millimetre bullet had exceeded the sound barrier as it sped towards its target where upon impact, killed the man instantly. Only a dispersing vapour trail left behind from the bullet gave the rebels an idea where the killing shot had come from and they promptly returned fired.
      "Crap!" Yelled Alison diving to the ground as bullets whizzed over her head before she even had a chance to realize that the scope was still set as Chris had left it; it had been right on target.

      "What's the story with you guys getting behind them?" Alison asked the members of her squad she had sent around on flanking manoeuvres. A reply sounded from the three marines indicating they were still at least thirty seconds away from reaching the rebels due to the tangled mess of the jungle.
      "McAllen!?" Questioned Alison over the radio, "where are you!?" No reply came; fearing the worst, Alison initiated Situation Awareness on her HUD.
      A three dimensional image of the immediate area was displayed on Alison's arm mounted display screen. Alison noted her position on the display by the light blue dot at the edge of the clearing. Dark blue dots representing UNSC personnel showed her where her marines were and the lone yellow dot of a UNSC allied solider that was almost upon the red dots of the rebels; Chris.

      Chris pressed himself hard up against a thick and aging tree in an effort to remain hidden from the rebels to his back. His heart was racing and all he could think about was killing the enemy before they had the chance to do the same to him.
      "McAllen!" Screamed a voice in his ear, "where ar..."
      "Shut up!" Chris hoarsely whispered to himself as he switched off his communications and remembered his training.
      Sneaking a quick look around the tree, Chris noticed there were still at least ten rebels remaining. They were evenly spread along the length of the tree line and pummelling the opposite tree line with heavy fire.
      Chris let go of his rifle and let it hang from the tactical sling around his neck as he fingered the pins out of two fragmentation grenades. He released the spoons with a clang - arming the grenades - and begun to count in preparation to throw the grenades around the tree.

       Alison had repositioned herself around the clearing in an attempt to avoid the suppressing fire that had been aimed at her previous position. "What are you doing?" Alison asked herself as she saw Chris pressed against the tree and holding something close to his chest as he muttered what appeared to be a prayer.
      From this vantage point Alison could observe a rebel hiding behind a tree but was somewhat close to Chris' position, the bullet would need to pass within a foot of his position. Knowing all too well the penetrative power of the S2 AM bullet, Alison lined up the likely location of the rebels upper torso through the tree Chris was hiding behind and fired. The bullet tore its way through the edge of the thick trunk of the tree and hit the rebel.

      Chris jumped in fright and almost dropped one of the primed grenades as a supersonic bullet whizzed near him. It sounded as though it missed when it hit a tree but it was then followed closely by the cry of alarm from the rebels. The dispersing vapour trail of the bullet was little over a foot to his back.
      Seeing this as his chance to throw the grenades unnoticed, Chris leant around the tree and threw his first grenade as far as he could down the lines of the rebels. He then rolled the second grenade thirty feet to his front where two rebels were firing unremittingly at the UNSC forces on the opposite side of the clearing.
      A double explosion echoed through the area as Chris sprung around the tree, his handgun with Laser Aiming Module (LAM) activated and at the ready. Chris rushed towards the two closest rebels who had miraculously survived the explosion and fired relentlessly without remorse, cutting both down in a series of loud gunshots from his pistol.
      Chris ran towards the next surviving rebel who had turned to investigate the source of the grenades and the loud cracks of a semi-automatic handgun. Much to his surprise the rebel could only watch dumbfounded as Chris aimed at the man's head and fired.
      It was about at this time the three marines sent on the opposite flank arrived and lent their firepower in cutting down the remaining rebels near them who had survived the grenades.
      Chris noticed the familiar olive drab fatigues in the jungle right as he fired his pistol repeatedly at the final rebel retreating into the jungle.

      The flanking marines watched in bewilderment as Chris fired with such tenacity for the rookie they had only met a day earlier. With a final shot, the slide of his pistol flung back into the empty position. In an explosion of motion he had ejected the empty magazine and loaded a fresh one before the marines realized the weapon was actually empty.
      Chris stood tall and was breathing heavily as he held his handgun tightly in his hands. The weapon was still levelled on the body of the lone rebel who had collapsed under a volley of point forty-five ACP slugs whilst trying to escape.

      "Clear up!" Cried the marine corporal from the flanking party as the group moved towards Chris who still stood silent with his handgun still at the ready. "I said cleared up, soldier!" Chris remained non compliant.
      The marine spun Chris around by the shoulder exposing the look of pure terror on his face and the heavy layer of sweat that covered his face.
      "Whoa settle down," said the corporal with a smile, "it's alright, man, they're all dead, you did good! Let's check back with the el-tee."
      Chris remained silent as the shaking in his hands resumed but this time it wasn't the adrenaline. No, the adrenaline was still present in his veins, he was shaking from fear. Not a fear that he could have been killed but an unshakable sense of fear that he enjoyed what had just taken place. He had enjoyed the conflict. He had enjoyed the killing.

      Alison had watched Chris kill the seven rebels through the scope of her rifle in amazement but now stood in the centre of clearing with the rest of her squad. Chris and the three flanking marines exited the opposite side of the clearing with Chris trailing somewhat behind the three marines.
      "They killed him," breathed Bernard angrily kneeling over Fenning's lifeless body as he noticed the four men approaching them, most particularly Chris' presence. "It's all that fucking rookie's fault!"
      "Damn right," spat various members of the squad around Alison in a mob mentality. She knew Fenning had been a popular figure in Bernard's squad and how bad the situation could unfold if she took the wrong side.
      "If it wasn't for you," started Bernard standing up and pointing at Chris with a hand shaking in anger, "and your trigger happy ways, Fenning would still be alive! You should be laying there, not him!"
      Chris felt all eyes fall on him, looking around he could see the shift of attitude against him spread through the squad members. The only person present Chris couldn't see the same look of disgust in was Alison. She just stood in place with her rifle in hand, her face blank of any sign of compassion or more importantly to Chris, anger.

      "That's bullshit, Sergeant!" Chris brawled suddenly feeling what had been fear turn into rage, "those first three rebels had been following us and they even had a radio. I bet this ambush would have been set long before I even killed them!"
      "How would you know? You're just a fucking rookie!" Bernard countered throwing his rifle to the ground before clenching his fists and moving within a metre of Chris. He shoved Chris away with powerful arms in an attempt to provoke him, "they only started shooting when you shot the others, idiot!"
      "And you call me the rookie! Are you really that fucking stupid, mate?" Barked Chris regaining his footing before removing his helmet and tossing it to the side. Chris could feel that what was to come would be a fight between First Sergeant Bernard and himself. "With their cover blown, there would have been little chance of us continuing along this path. Everyone knows that UNSC regulations state that we're to backtrack one hundred metres and bypass the location by another hundred metres to our flank. The rebels would know that from experience." Chris stepped forward and put his face right in front of Bernard's, "killing Fenning was just a means of drawing us out." Chris noted Bernard's face go blank as his mind tried to comprehend what Chris had just said. "Want me to say it a little slower, Sergeant?"
      "Oh you got a big mouth," jeered Bernard removing his vest to the cries of support from his men for vengeance for Fenning, "I'm going to enjoy taking you down."
      "Break his fucking jaw, Sarge!" Called one of the marines as they all stepped back leaving a circle with only Fenning's corpse, Chris, Bernard and in the centre.
      "Are you just going to let this happen?" Chris asked Alison, she turned her head to the side, powerless in the group of frenzied soldiers and avoided his mystified gaze.

      "She can't help you, rook, you're mine" said Bernard with a devious grin as he removed his belt and helmet. Bernard cracked his knuckles before bringing up his clenched fist in the fighting style of that as a boxer and Chris finally understood why the Sergeant's face appeared so damaged, he was a boxer.
      Chris stood silent as he refrained from challenging Bernard to see if this was the real deal.
      "What's the matter, rook?" Ridiculed Bernard, "didn't your pussy of a father teach you how to fight?"
      Chris felt his blood boil at the comment directed at his deceased father. "You've got no fucking right to talk about him that way! He was more man than you will ever be!"
      "Ooh, the rookie loves his daddy," said Bernard behind his clenched fists, "what you are going do about it? You going to make me stop, rookie?"
      Chris removed his armoured vest, dropped his pack and tossed his rifle to the side. "I said," started Chris bitterly as he tightened the tabs of his combat gloves for the fight ahead, "I'm no rookie, Sarge."
      "We'll see," said Bernard as he sneakily brought his right foot back for a roundhouse kick. Bernard brought his left arm back in preparation for a punch in plain view and suddenly swung.
      Chris did not fall for Bernard's trick. He had noticed the Sergeant's ploy but slowly went along as if he hadn't noticed Bernard's right foot being brought back.
      Quickly Chris brought up his left hand to block the punch as Bernard would expect whilst keeping his right hand drawn back just above the hip in preparation for the counter-manoeuvre. Bernard's weak punch was ignored by Chris who simply moved his blocking hand and avoided the punch, letting it fly by unopposed.
      Carried on by the momentum of the punch, Bernard swung his body around surprisingly fast for a man of his stature and let fly his kick. Bernard's kick had all the energy required to break someone's ribs or in this case, knock the wind out of the victim indefinitely to conclude the fight.

      This is what Bernard expected the outcome to be; start the fight quick and finish it quick; knock the rookie down a peg or two of self respect. But he also saw it as a means of extracting revenge for Fenning's death caused by this rookie's stupidity. What Bernard was not expecting was to see his crushing blow being caught by Chris' waiting right hand. Bernard froze in mid-kick as Chris absorbed the momentum of the kick through his arm.
      Before Bernard could wrestle his way out Chris clasped down on the foot with his left hand; forcing Bernard to awkwardly balance on one foot.
      Bernard knew he had made a mistake in underestimating the rookie's hand to hand combat ability and watched helplessly as Chris slowly started to raise and lower Bernard's captured leg at an increasing rate.
      "Ready for this Sergeant?" Chris said smiling and catching Bernard off guard. Chris' smile vanished as he mustered all the strength he could to propel Bernard's leg straight up in the air.
      Helpless, Bernard could watch as he was thrown off his feet and into the air before he prepared to face the hard reality of gravity as he hit the ground, hard.
      There was a gasp and then finally silence from the onlookers as Bernard slowly got to his feet. "You'll pay for that," said Bernard through clenched teeth and brushing the grass off his rear as he stood.

      Bernard went for the less subtle approach this time by running at Chris and swung one of his huge fists squarely at Chris' face. Caught off guard of the direct action, Chris could only move his head slightly to avoid the main force of the punch but still received a painful grazing blow along his jaw.
      Carried on by the momentum of his running, Bernard bowled Chris out of the way and immediately turned around to face the soldier again. "You feeling me now?" Said Bernard with a look of amusement as Chris spat the blood caused by the impact out of his mouth and onto the ground.

      "Is that the best you got?" Sneered Chris seeing the Sergeant's weakness was his pride; if he could coax Bernard to charge in once more, Chris could end this fight quickly.
      This time it was Bernard who fell for the ploy, "I'm just getting started," stated Bernard drawing back his right arm for the punch to come and then, he lunged.
      And Chris was ready for him; he ducked below the incoming punch and brought up his right solid plastic padded elbow into the bottom of Bernard's jaw with a satisfying crack. The effect was instantaneous; Chris felt the large Sergeant's body go limp but he was unprepared for Bernard to actually fall over on top of him.
      Chris hit the ground with Sergeant Bernard's body on top of him and felt the air expire from his lungs as the full weight of Bernard pressed down on his chest with the impact. With a grunt Chris rolled the body off of him and shakily got to his feet and looked at the bewildered on lookers. He half expected everyone to cheer for him but also half expecting everyone else to attack him at once.
      There was nothing, just an empty silence as everyone looked at the weary Chris and the unconscious Bernard; they did not know what to do either. They had expected Bernard to win hands down and now they all stared perplexedly at Chris and Bernard's body.

      "What the hell is going on here!?" Yelled a voice from the edge of the clearing, everyone turned and saw Chambers standing at the edge of the clearing with a confused look on his face. No one answered him so he yelled even louder, "I said, what the fuck is going on here!?"
      Alison finally spoke up in an intended sarcastic tone, "Sergeant Bernard and PFC McAllen here were just showing some do's and don'ts of hand to hand combat, isn't that right?"
      The troops around Alison mumbled what appeared to be agreement with some offering Chris a smile whilst others continued to look scornfully towards him.
      Chambers understood the statement, "well forget the messing around, I've found something you need to see Parker."
      "Alright the show's over." said Alison to the squad before turning towards the medic. "Stay here, O'Neil. Wake Bernard up and mark Fenning's body for retrieval. Everyone else take up a perimeter in case there are anymore rebels about." The squad's disgruntled machine gunner spat in disgust at the injustice of it all but fell out with the others and took up a position. Alison turned to Chris and showed of a weak smile before heading off towards Chambers.

      Chris watched as Alison and Chambers trekked back down the trail the way they had come only twenty minutes earlier and so much had happened since then. The rest of the squad had dispersed from the previously set circle around Fenning. Chris felt he had responded to the situation well, he did not start the fight and only acted in defence so there was no chance of a Court Marshal.
      But he couldn't help but feel everyone still agreed with what Bernard had said and still blamed Chris for Fenning's death. Violence never really solved anything; it had only bought him some time for his next move.
      Putting his gear back on and grabbing his weapon; Chris moved to the edge of the clearing and covered the far most left flank. He let out a sigh and checked his ammunition alone as he did not appear welcome to set up with one of the marines.

      Chambers let out a loud laugh as he and Alison walked back down the trail, "wait, wait, you're telling me McAllen knocked Bernard out with just one hit? Are you pulling my leg?"
      "I'm serious!" Alison chuckled.
      "Oh God I can't believe I missed that," remarked Chambers, "how many times have we heard of his successful boxing career? They're going to shit themselves back at the base when they hear about this."
      "He sure chose the wrong [rookie to mess with!" Alison laughed but then stopped when Chambers shot her an angry glance but said nothing.
      "Well what did you want to show me?" Alison asked moving on.
      "This," said Chambers removing a sheet of crumpled paper, "I took it off the man with the radio that McAllen plugged."
      "Why did we come all the way out here for this?" She asked taking the note and reading it briefly, her eyes lit up in alarm as she finished.
      Alison turned to Chambers with her mouth somewhat opened but the words never came. "That's exactly what I thought," said Chambers, "they knew we were coming."

Long Time Gone Part Three: Incommunicado
Date: 7 November 2008, 10:36 am

"HBOFF: You're Doing it Write"

Long Time Gone Part Three: Incommunicado

January 30th, 2550, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Twenty-Seven kilometres from drop off point Charlie, 1610 Hours

      "They knew we were coming?" Alison breathed to herself before turning back to face Chambers, "that means..."
      "Command must have a mole in its ranks," said Chambers finishing her sentence with a solemn nod. "I wouldn't be surprised if anything else happens while we're out here. But," Chambers raised a finger in thought, "I'm more concerned with what could be happening back at base with so few of our forces around Kinshasa; the area is pretty vulnerable to attack."
      "We'll have to contact command then," said Alison turning to go back to the squad but Chambers held her back by the shoulder.
      "I think it's best we keep this between ourselves, don't you?" Chambers looked at Alison, "it could cause a panic."
      "We'll need to tell Bernard," said Alison as Chambers lowered his arm.
      "That's true," said Chambers now leading the way back to the clearing.
      " Well," said Alison following Chambers, "we should probably keep everyone else out of the loop until we can get word back to command."
      "Agreed," said Chambers leading the way back to where the rest of the squad had spread around the edge of the clearing in a defensive ring.

      As they arrived at the clearing Alison and Chambers set about discreetly taking the squad's radioman and his gear to one side of the clearing.
      "I ain't getting nothing but static, lieutenant," remarked radioman Donald Avery angrily, "it's like... it's like they're hearing it, but no one's responding. It doesn't make any sense."
      "Sure it's not a problem on our end?" Asked Alison.
      "I was just talking to Captain Foster right before you and Chambers came back. They could hear me just fine," said Donald giving the outer casing of the radio a slight slap.
      "But that would be over the shortwave transmitter," said Chambers who uneasily scratched the back of his head when everyone looked at him; surprised by his knowledge of military radios for a weapons tech, "maybe the long range transmitter is broken?"
      "I doubt it. It was working this morning. But I could ask Iggy in the Captain's squad to try and call command; see if he has the same problem."
      "What about the radio the rebels had here?" Asked Alison.
      "You mean this?" Asked Avery pointing towards a radio set riddled with shrapnel from a grenade blast, "it's fucked."
      "What about the other radio; from the first group?"

      "Shortwave," said Chambers before Avery could even open his mouth.
      "You're quick," said Avery with a laugh.
      "So you'll contact Captain Foster's squad then?" Asked Alison cutting to the chase.
      "Sure, give us a few minutes and I'll see if I can let you know what's going on back at command."
      "It would be appreciated, Donald," said Alison.
      "Why do you want to get into contact with command so bad?" Queried Avery as he adjusted frequencies.
      "Ah," Alison paused nervously as she looked at the crumpled piece of paper in her hand, "we... we just need to let them know that we've experienced heavy enemy contact far earlier than we expected." The radioman simply nodded as he tried to hail Captain Foster's squad. Without another word Alison left, taking Chambers with her and leaving the radioman alone to do his work.

      "Why didn't you tell him the truth?" Asked Chambers once they were out of earshot.
      "We don't need to tell him if he can't get onto command, Mike," said Alison turning and facing Chambers, "the less people that know, the less chance of any pillow talk."
      "I guess," answered Chambers with a shrug of his shoulders but he trusted his life to Alison's judgement, "speaking of pillows, where are we going to stay for the night?"
      "We could either keep going until it's too dark to move or we could consolidate here," said Alison aloud as she assessed the options.
      "Given a choice, Alison," started Chambers pointing at the ground, "I'd sleep a lot easier here even with the bodies than further out in the boonies."
      "I agree," said Alison removing her pack and letting it fall to the jungle floor, "pass the word, we're staying here tonight. I want an observation team two hundred metres to our front, one to the rear and a sentry there and there at all times," said Alison pointing at each side of clearing; perpendicular to the intended path of travel.
      "Alright," said Chambers checking his shotgun, "I'll take first shift on observation with McAllen and..."
      "No, leave McAllen out of it for now," said Alison sternly as she once again took charge of the situation.
      "I swear, Parker, if you say it's because he's a rookie I'm going to fucking slap you," Chambers raised his hand provocatively at his close friend, his patience ultimately tested, "he's outperformed anyone of us today! He isn't a rookie, not anymore!"

      "I wasn't going to say that," said Alison genuinely and raising a hand in innocence.
      "What the hell do you have against him?" Asked Chambers angrily.
      "I thought we established this! He messed with my goddamn rifle," said Alison firmly, "what the hell gives him the right to do that?"
      "Well," Chambers paused as he reflected on his earlier conversation with Chris. "I'm sure his heart was in the right spot..."
      "What the hell does heart have to do with resighting a rifle!?" Alison ruthlessly snapped at Chambers.
      "Alison," said Chambers slowly at first and taking a deep breath before losing his cool, "for God's sake, Alison! He's a Special Forces sniper; I think he would know what he's doing. Probably more than you!"

      Alison's face went blank at the revelation, "what?"
      "You heard me," said Chambers staring Alison down, "he's a Special Forces sniper." Alison remained quiet for a moment in thought as she avoided his gaze.
      "That doesn't change the fact he still tampered with my rifle," she countered coldly.
      "He told me he was only trying to help," said Chambers, "and from what I heard of the battle, it sounded like your shots must have been on target, right?" Chambers paused as Alison remained quiet. "Or at least you haven't admitted you missed... but I doubt you'd ever miss." Alison smiled somewhat at the praise, "so he must have done a good job then?"

      "Alright, alright, you've got me there," said Alison with a sigh and putting a hand over her face in shame. "I tried to resight it in when we stopped for a rest earlier but... it was already sighted in perfectly..."
      "Were you ever going to tell him this?" Asked Chambers seriously after several seconds of silence but Alison said nothing; she just lowered her head somewhat in self-pity but also as in reluctance to apologize to Chris.
      "Oh come on Alison, the guy likes you!" Said Chambers bluntly, "stop acting like a bitch and talk to him."
      "What?" Exclaimed Alison in surprise, "he told you that? That he likes me?"
      "Well, pretty much," said Chambers flatly realizing he perhaps should not have told Alison about McAllen's attraction towards her. "Well that's what I gathered anyway, but don't tell him I said anything, alright?"
      "Alright, my lips are sealed, Mike," said Alison slowly and cutely screwing up her nose in thought, "I'll try and find a chance to talk to him tonight sometime. Try and make amends but... thanks for telling me, Mike. I mean it."
      "Anytime," said Chambers noting a look in Alison's eyes he hadn't seen before, "I'll take Bernard with me to the OP instead. I'll explain the situation to him."
      "Sounds good. Keep me informed if anything happens." Alison laughed to herself and shook her head at her own naivety, "and I swear I'll believe you if you hear something this time!" Chambers chuckled at the comment as he walked away to find Bernard.

      Chris slowly opened his eyes only to realize he was no longer in the Congolese jungle where he had gone to sleep. No, instead of being surrounded by the trees of the jungle, he saw the skyscrapers of a city looming overhead.
      Instead of thick grass rustling beneath him, he felt the harsh stubble of asphalt grinding against his body armour. Instead of the chirps and calls of the insects and birds, he heard the mesmerizing rattle of machineguns firing in the distance and the crackle of flames.

      He was in a warzone.

       Chris took in the dismal scene that surrounded him as he struggled to his feet. He stood in the middle of a battle damaged street of a city still engulfed in the flames of war.

      The flames of burning buildings and cars set ablaze casted long and oblique shadows onto the blood stained cement of the cities innumerable footpaths.

      It had been a slaughter.

      Not knowing what to expect, Chris tensely held his rifle at the ready.

      "Where is everybody?" He called into the dark and flicking on his helmet mounted torch. "What a massacre," he breathed looking over the corpses of men, women and children that littered the area.

      A weak and laboured groan caused Chris to turn in surprise where amongst the dead he saw a slight slither of movement. Less than thirty feet away and lying in a pool of their own blood lay the figure of a wounded soldier.
      "Hey, are you alright!?" Chris called as he ran to their aid; throwing his rifle down to one side with a loud clatter and turned the person over carefully. The first thing he noticed was the source of the blood surrounding the two of them; a deep gunshot wound in their stomach but it was then he noticed that it was a woman.

A very familiar woman.

      It was Second Lieutenant Alison Marie Parker of the UNSC Marine Corps.

      She didn't answer him; in fact she didn't even respond to Chris' presence. The only thing that let Chris know she was alive was the slow rising and falling of her chest as she breathed in shallow breaths.
      "Jesus," said Chris in shock as he fumbled for his medical kit whilst his heart began to race uncontrollably in panic, "what happened, Parker?"

No reply.

       "Alison!?" Chris started shaking her shoulders in anxiety, "what the hell happened!?"

      Chris literally ripped open his medical kit and tried to find something to keep her alive in the meagre selection of equipment that claimed to somehow save lives.
      In the end all Chris could do was apply the congealing agent included in the kit to the wound and affix a pressure bandage but it wasn't enough.

She was too far gone; he had failed her.

      "You can't die..." Chris heard himself saying as Alison's breathing slowed and then finally stopped, "...I love you..."

When his family had been killed he didn't cry.

He didn't know how to cry.

      He had turned what sadness he possessed into a cold hatred that became his motivation to be the best soldier he could be to avenge his family. But to feel the urge to cry at the death of woman he had only just meant shook Chris to the core. Why did he feel this way?

Why?

      "Hey, are you alright?" Questioned a voice invading Chris' mind; the besieged city of his nightmare vanished like dissipating smoke until nothing remained but a fog of confusion.

      Chris opened his eyes once more and raised his head to see his surroundings; the recognizable smell of rain and a gentle breeze blowing against his face let him know he was back in the jungle. He let his head drop back to the jungle floor with a thud and out a deep sigh of relief as he looked at the stars overhead, "it was all just a friggin' dream."

      "What was a dream?" Said the same voice as before, Chris tilted his head back further and saw that Alison was kneeling above his head.
      "Lieutenant Parker?" Said Chris in shock but he forced himself to control his surprise, "what time is it?"
      "It is precisely," Alison checked her watch, "ten thirty two."
      "Shit, I've been out for three hours already?" Questioned Chris; he felt he had only put his head to the ground when he was woken from his strange dream.
      "What was the dream about?" Asked Alison curiously and offered Chris a hand to get up.
      Chris declined the assistance and stood up by himself and looked suspiciously towards Alison who appeared visually hurt at his refusal for her help. "Why so friendly all of a sudden, didn't you say you wanted to kill me?"
      "I only said I'd kill you if you touched my rifle again!" Alison said with a laugh effectively defusing the situation. "I must say it was shooting straighter than it ever has earlier. I was putting some rounds mighty close to you earlier too."
      "Lucky I did fix it, eh?" Chris replied as he was dusting off his fatigues. "Why'd you get me up?"

      "I didn't mean to, you were talking in your sleep," said Alison, "you sounded troubled so I woke you up to see if everything was alright."
      "What did I say?" Chris asked. He was unable to remember his dream clearly but something was nagging on the edge of his consciousness about it.

Something about Alison? Chris asked himself as he tried to recall the dream.

      "You were just mumbling some meaningless gibberish," replied Alison shrugging her shoulders uninterested. "You want to come relieve the forward observation post with me?"
      "I guess so. I doubt I'll get back to sleep," said Chris flatly and checking his rifle before following Parker to the observation post.

      "Halt," called a voice from the darkness, "identify yourself."
      "I swear to God if you point that rifle at me one more time, Michaels, I'm going to break it in half, and shove it up your ass!" Responded Alison jokingly into the dark.
      "Hey Lieutenant," said the marine's voice, "come on in."
      "This way," Alison said to Chris motioning towards the darkness.
      The forward observation post had been established in an existing hollow found in the jungle floor. The hollow was what was left after a large tree had fallen over and the earth had been displaced by the forced removal of the roots.
      Alison sat down on the edge of the hollow and turned to the two marines who were still stationed there. "Alright you two, you can go now. The next shift knows when to come so just go get some sleep."
      "Yes, ma'am," said the marines collecting their gear and leaving the hollow just as Chris appeared from the jungle. "What's he doing here?" Said one of the marines defiantly.
      "He's on watch, just like I am," responded Alison calmly and looking at the marine.
      "I'm not going to sleep if he's the one watching over us, he'll get our throats cut while we're all asleep!" Stated the marine callously to which the second marine could only shake his head at.
      Chris looked at the offending marine coldly before shaking his own head in disgust.
      "I think you should go," said Alison coolly, "before I get angry."

      The two marines walked off into the darkness and when they thought they were a safe distance they promptly had an exchange of angry words. They were too far away to understand but Alison guessed it would be about Chris.
      "Tough crowd," said Chris sitting down on the opposite edge of the hollow to Alison, "they sure know how to make a bloke feel welcome."
      "Well, Fenning was a popular guy," Alison remarked removing her night vision gear from her webbing and placing it on the edge of the hollow at the ready.
      "Well it's not like I shot him," replied Chris with a hint of anger rising in his voice, "I only killed some rebels like I was trained to.
      " I knew that if they were following us, they couldn't be allowed to get away and warn the others..." Chris threw a clenched fist into the soft earth in anger, "Goddamn it! Fenning's death was not my fault!"

      "Hey, I know, I believe you!" Responded Alison sympathetically, pausing for a moment deciding whether to relay the information Chambers had found. "Chris, I've got something important to tell you... we found out the rebels were following us."
      Chris' turned his head to face Alison, "What? How do you know that?"
      "Chambers found part of an intelligence report on what this patrol was doing, where we were going and how we would do it. My guess is that they've been following us ever since we touched down."
      "Are you suggesting there is a traitor amongst us?" Said Chris tightening his grip on his rifle before looking over his shoulders quickly in paranoia.
      "If I ever had to guess that one of us was a traitor," said Alison slowly, "I would say it was you..."
      "Me!?" Chris coughed sharply in surprise. "I didn't even know there was a mission planned for today until the briefing."
      "I'm just saying if I ever had to make an accusation that there was anyone to suspect of being a traitor in this unit it would be you." Alison looked Chris over closely, "you're new and you shipped in really quickly after the order went out. But no, we're not talking about a traitor at this level."
      Alison paused, it was her turn to look of her shoulders in paranoia, "the intelligence report could only have come from up top." Alison relaxed a little and ran hand across her forehead to wipe away the sweat. "Chambers, Bernard and I can only speculate it's someone high up in the chain of command."

      "But if they knew that we were coming," said Chris thinking for a moment, "wouldn't they have sent some sort of bigger group than just fifteen men to take down a large squad of UNSC regulars?"
      "I was thinking the same thing," replied Alison, "but I'm beginning to think that what we met today is only the tip of the iceberg of what is to come."
      "What does Captain Foster think?"
      "He's undecided," said Alison with a slight mumble, "when I tried to explain what I thought earlier, he refused to believe that any superior would sell out the UNSC. At least not at a time like this."

      Chris shook his head at Foster's ignorance; nearly anyone could be convinced to change sides for the right reasons. Money, power, security, the list goes on. "Well what did they run into today?"
      "Not a real lot apparently," said Alison cracking her knuckles; a bad habit she could not shake. "Nothing like what we've experienced today. Only two rebels were killed in a brief engagement in the middle of the day but they didn't see a thing for the rest of the day."
      "Lucky them," remarked Chris looking at the quiet jungle around him.
      "Yep, sucks to be us," said Alison breaking the conversation by lowering herself into the hollow and looking out. Chris promptly followed suite and they sat quietly listening for any signs of hostiles approaching.

      A half hour of silence passed between them before Alison piped up. "Chris I've been meaning to tell you something, well more to ask you something."
      Chris turned his attention away from the jungle and spoke formally, "and what would that be, Lieutenant?"
      "Come on, call me Parker," said Alison warmly, "Alison even. Just drop the formalities."
      "Informalities are for friends, Lieutenant," responded Chris flatly, in the shallow silence of the night he had reflected on the events of the day and still couldn't help but resent Alison for her actions against him.
      "Right," said Alison carefully, "well I know I acted like a bit of a bitch to you today..."
      "How about a big bitch?" said Chris whilst still looking into the jungle.
      "Alright. I guess I deserved that one," said Alison slowly as she swallowed some of her pride.

       "I said some things I probably shouldn't have and I'm sorry." Alison looked at Chris but he didn't turn to face her. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you when you said there was someone following us, I'm sorry I went off the handle at you about changing my scope.
      "To tell the truth I only just found out that you're a trained sniper off, Mike," Alison paused and took a deep breath as she recollected her thoughts.
      "But even then you should know how important a sniper's rifle is to them but... I forgive you. I'm sorry for calling you a rookie all this time. I'm..." Alison lowered her head for a second before looking at Chris once more, "I'm just sorry, Okay?"

      Chris turned and looked at Alison silently; he felt unsure what to say at the completely unexpected apology. For some reason his conversation with Chambers in the mess hall came to mind.

Ice Queen, huh?

Oh yeah.

Something was wrong.

       Chambers' remark about Alison's character didn't back up that of the woman less than a metre away. Then it hit him like a point blank shot to the face.

To tell the truth I only just found out that you're a trained sniper off, Mike...

Mike...

      Chris grunted softly to himself and whispered into the wind. "What else did he tell you?"
      Alison noted Chris' somewhat bitter expression. "What's wrong?" She asked genuinely with focused eyes.
      "To tell the truth I never expected you to be one to actually apologize," remarked Chris with a slight laugh as he tried to hide his distrust.
      "Well I'm not what everyone thinks I am," replied Alison with a grin as she extended a hand, "so what do you say, friends?"
      "Doesn't look like I have much choice," said Chris smiling and shaking Alison's hand, "I never could resist a pretty face."
      Alison smiled at the compliment, "you're alright. You know that?"

      Another hour passed before Alison looked over the makeshift parapet of the hollow after having been startled by a bird rustling around in a tree. She looked back over her shoulder and exactly where she had left him was Chris looking silently into the night with his rifle by his side and taking no notice of her.
      Alison had lied to Chris when she woke him up from his troublesome dream. She had heard everything he had said in his sleep; including his final line, "I love you."
      Alison knew she should have said something but instead let out a regretful sigh and returned to watching the jungle silently. She knew they would need to talk more later but now there was little time for anymore idle chitchat.

January 31th, 2550, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Twenty-Seven kilometres from drop off point Charlie, 0542 Hours

      In the distance, the first glimpse of sunrise painted a brilliance of oranges and yellows onto the still dark sky just barely visible above the near endless canopy of Congolese jungle. Any other time, any other place, such a spectacle may have been classed as beautiful, something to stand back behold; but not now.

There was work to be done.

      Letting out a sigh of apprehension of what could happen today; Alison turned her gaze away from the rising sun and looked at Sergeant Bernard.

      "So we're clear?" Asked Alison with a yawn; the previous night had been wrought with plenty of bad dreams and unwanted thoughts swirling around her consciousness depriving her of much needed sleep.
      "Crystal," stated Bernard locking the buckle of his belt into place and faced Alison, "you're sure about this? Just the two of us?"
      "You saw him yesterday," remarked Alison, "you'll make a good team."
      Bernard rubbed his jaw as a smile crossed his lips in amusement. "Alright, Lieutenant," Bernard motioned towards the sleeping troops, "shall we?"

      Alison nodded and they both begun to move around the sleeping troopers and wake them up. "We're moving out in fifteen, grab something to eat and do what else you have to. Pass it on."
      The messaged quickly spread amongst the marines and they quickly set about preparing themselves for the day ahead.

For some of them it would be their last.

      Chris sat alone at the edge of the clearing and watched as Bernard and Alison roused the weary squad. He had been awake for nearly an hour and took this time to prepare for the day ahead. A screwed up ball that once represented an empty cardboard box enlightened the world he had already choked down his Delicious Scrambled Eggs but what else surrounded him truly had the others perplexed.
      To his front, Chris had field stripped a light machinegun that he had taken from the rebels killed the previous day. The weapon was old, but serviceable Chris told himself as he replaced the worn bolt assembly after lubricating it; something the previous owners had apparently neglected for some time. It looked a little rough but he was confident the weapon would function satisfactorily.

      With the machine gun assembled and prepared for action, Chris begun the tedious task of reloading the magazines he had emptied during the previous day's fighting.
      "Don't you ever sleep?" Chambers asked walking over whilst still eating his instant meal.
      "Of course I do, mate," said Chris loading the last bullet into a pistol magazine and placing it into his webbing and smiled, "I just like playing with guns more."
      "What's that wreck?" Said Chambers looking down at the captured machine gun with all the scrutiny of the armoury clerk he was, "we're suppose to destroy captured weapons..."
      Chris casually looked around himself to see if any other marines were within earshot before he spoke. "Well if you and Alison are right and the rebels are going to try something big," Chris grabbed the weapon and loaded a belt of ammunition as he spoke, "I think we're going to need all the firepower we can muster."
      "Ah, so Alison did talk to you last night?" Questioned Chambers vaguely between a mouthful of food.
      Chris cocked his head to the side, puzzled by Chambers' tone. "Why? Wasn't she meant to?"
      "No, no," replied Chambers as he screwed the wrapping of his breakfast into a ball, "from what I recall she was pretty annoyed at you for touching her rifle." Chambers gingerly threw the compacted rubbish into the jungle, "I didn't think she'd be one for conversation after that whole incident."

      "Well at one point I didn't think I'd be able to get her to shut up!" Remarked Chris with a laugh, "I mean, during that whole incident with Bernard she wouldn't even look at me and now... Bloody hell, it was a huge shock to me."
      "As it would be," said Chambers hefting the captured machinegun to his shoulder, "I mean, it's not like every day the woman you're attracted to asks you to bury the hatchet..."
      "Chambers, I really hope you're not telling everyone I like Alison," said Chris seriously.
      Chambers uneasily handed the machinegun back to Chris. "By the way," Chambers finally got up the nerve to speak, "you've got about ten minutes to get ready."
      "I'll only need five," remarked Chris indifferently as he knelt back down and rummaged through his pack.


      Chris unpacked the cleaning kit for his rifle which also contained a collection of his alternate accessories and broke down his rifle. Where he cleaned and lubricated all the moving parts before preparing to reassemble the weapon.
      With the flick of a wrist he removed the long twenty inch barrel and replaced it with a more compact a twelve inch barrel better suited for dense jungle and screwed a sound suppressor in place over the muzzle brake. However he also installed a forward grip to help offset the extra recoil the weapon would produce with the shorter barrel.
      With a few well rehearsed motions he loaded his rifle then slung it over his shoulder.
      "Alright that's me done," said Chris assembling his equipment for the next leg of their journey.

      "Okay," said Chambers, "we better go and see Alison, the sooner we leave here, the better."
      Chris nodded in reply as he grabbed the pilfered machine gun and followed Chambers to where Alison was talking to Bernard.

      "Well, well," said Bernard, "if it isn't the man who kicked my sorry arse!" Chris took a step back in uncertainty at Bernard's enthusiasm to see him.
      "Sergeant?" Questioned Chris at first but he decided to play along, "how's the jaw?"
      "Lucky shot," said Bernard with a chuckle as he rubbed the bruised skin, "I'll get you back!" Chris cocked his head to the side at the warm nature of Bernard's remark.
      "What's his problem?" Chris whispered to Chambers, "did I hit him too hard?"
      Chambers laughed, "don't flatter yourself! He knows, I told him myself."
      "I see," said Chris extending an arm to Bernard, "sorry, mate, no hard feelings, eh?" Not only was the gesture a shock to the men and women looking over the requested truce but so was Sergeant Bernard's acceptance of the offer.
      "I admit I was a bit pig headed in blaming you," said Bernard shaking Chris' hand firmly, "things just didn't seem to make a lick of sense otherwise." Bernard released Chris' hand and smiled, "so sorry about the whole one on one deal but I do demand a rematch back at base!"
      "Ha, if you want Sergeant," said Chris smiling.

      "Alright enough chatter," said Alison competing for attention from Chris and Bernard's armistice. Everyone turned their attention to Alison and awaited her orders. "We're moving out so stow your gear and suck it up, we've got a long day ahead of us."

January 31th, 2550, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Twenty kilometres from Objective X-Ray, 0621 Hours

      "You had the perfect chance to tell them back there," Bernard said to Alison as they marched, "I don't like this idea of marching towards a possible ambush and my men having no clue."
      "I don't like it anymore than you but remember they're my soldiers too," said Alison looking over her shoulder at the men and women who trusted her leadership, "besides, it's not important at the moment. If we tell them now they might panic."
      "Not important? I think walking into a possible trap is pretty damn important information if you ask me, Lieutenant."
      "My decision is final, Bernard," said Alison sharply, "now go and get McAllen; it's time you two earned your pay."

      Less than a minute later, Chris and Bernard came walking up the line.
      "You wanted to see me, Parker?" Said Chris falling into line next to Alison.
      " I have a special job for you and Bernard," said Alison with a smile.
      "I'm all ears," said Chris finding himself smiling due to Alison's own contagious yet radiant smile.
      "We'll be getting close to the village by dark," Alison adjusted the way her sling dug into her shoulder as she walked, "I want you and Bernard to move on ahead and check the village for any surprises. And try not to let them know we're coming. Got it?"
      "Just us?" Questioned Chris and Alison nodded, "well, alright, Parker." Replied Chris as he stopped and tightened the chin strap on his helmet and smacked the buckles on his vest to test they were secure and in no harm of letting go.
      "Let's go then," said Bernard acknowledging that Chris was ready and turned to Alison, "we'll get back to you as soon as possible, Parker."

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