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Part Five: R&R
We treaded carefully through the alien ruins for a little bit over an hour after the assassination . . . and Cal's death. That was the one thing that had been bothering me the most -Cal dying. The encumbering weight of guilt felt as if it her hindering my progress as we moved. I had been so rude to Cal, so unfair. I would have given my life away to that Brute if I could have. I should have died. Not Cal.
"Eyes on," Cortez signaled as he knelt down, hiding beneath the brush of the thick jungle canopy. My eyes strained to catch what Cortez had halted us for. They were heavily burdened by my heavy eyelids, and the dark sky didn't seem to help at all. We had gone alost twenty-four hours without sleep. "Over there," Cortez pointed out, referring to a trail of smoke that originated from the brush ahead, nearly twenty meters away.
"What's it coming from?" Dutch asked, pulling beside Cortez.
"Don't know." he said.
I sighed. "Who cares? The Covenant are hot on our asses, and all you two idiots care about is 'where is the smoke coming from'. Evac's only two klicks away. If we're not moving again in five seconds, I'm going without you two morons." As if to emphasize my words, a Phantom roared above, search lights shining down on the thick jungle canopy.
"Down!" Cortez ordered, hitting the dirt. Dutch and I complied. I counted my heartbeats as the Phantom's light searched aimlessly for us, then disappeared as it left. I began to pick myself up, but Cortez had already done it for me . . . as well as pull his sidearm and aim it square at my helmet.
"What are you--!?"
"Shut it." Cortez growled with sudden anger. "I don't like your attitude, Richard. And last I checked, I'm giving the orders around here. If I say jump, you say 'how high'. Got it?"
I grunted. Cortez must have been bluffing . . . but still, I had never seen him like that. "Yes."
The finger around the trigger tightened a bit. I bit my lip. "Yes, what?" he asked bitterly.
I hesitated, then through clenched teeth: "Yes sir"
He nodded, withdrawing his weapon. "I know it's been a rough day, O'Brian, but we've got to keep our he--"
"Guys!" Dutch exclaimed, almost out of breath. Cortez and I immidiately turned to him, dropping the conversation. he was beant over, hands on his knees, breathing heavily. I had almost forgotten about Dutch - and apparently Cortez had too. "The smoke . . . " he paused for more breath. "It's coming from Checkman's pod."
Both Cortez and I shared a gasp, our feud reduced to nothingess. We followed Dutch, as he waved us over, then led us to the smoke's origin, towards Checkmen. Sure enough, there was his pod, burried deep into the dirt. Cortez nodded at Dutch, who grasped Checkmen's pod door, and strained as he pulled it free. Checkmen's limp body resided inside, head drooped. Silence rang throughout the jungle as we observed our fallen comrade in shame.
"We'll pick him up later." Cortez said gloomily, turning to me. He gave e a brief pat on the back, as if to apologize for our encounter. It didn't seem to matter anymore.
We gathered ourselves, looked at Checkmen one last time, and departed, heading for the evacuation site
Back aboard the Normandy, Cortez, Dutch and I sat in awkward silence as we took our seats in the reserved booth we shared in the mess hall. Usually, the table would be filled with laughter or some sort of arhgument on "who saved whose" ass on the previous mission - but not today. Today was silent.
"Heard about what you guys did down there." a voice called form behind me. I turned to see who it was. In Checkmen's old seat sat a goofy-looking Marine . . . and he wasn't 105th. He had a trey of apples, which he passed around to Dutch, Cortez and I. "You took out a Prophet, and stopped the Covenant supply chain dead for the entire Arkcluster sector." He laughed, then leaned back on the booth casually, like he belonged. "They say a Spartan died there - went down faster than a new boot on his first day of basic." Another laugh, as he chewed an apple of his own. "I thought those guys were supposed to be unbeatable. I guess he didn't have what it takes to hang with the Helljumper's, huh?"
Everyonem uncluding myself, growled at the Marine's snide comment. It was horrible enough he was tyring to fit in with us, but then he acted as if the mission we undertook - that Cal's and Checkmen's lives - was a joke. Dutch grabbed the Marine by his collar, and pulled him close. "Shutup." he spat, throwing the idiotic soldier onto the floor. Cortez and I stared without interest.
"What the hell's the matter with you guys, what'd I say!?" the soldier recoiled, rubbing his head where he had hit it on the titanium floor.
I ignored him, and gazed out the window, reflecting on the mission. Cal . . . Checkmen . . . the shot. It all seemed pointless. Humanity was a doomed species. The Covenant had already made sure of that.
"Gentlemen," a second voice called from behind. I turned again, surprised to meet the weary gaze of Admiral Lockhart, seated next to Dutch. "How're you boys holding up?"
"We're fine, Admiral." Cortez assured . . . and by the way he said it, I could tell he was lying.
Lockhart sighed. "I see. What you boys did down there was very important. I understand you're all probably very upset with the loss of Cal-141, and Checkmen." He paused. "And that's why I'm giving you boys a two week pass."
My mouth dropped, along with my fellow ODSTs. "Two weeks?" Dutch asked, surprised.
The admiral nodded. "That's right. Two weeks. You boys have earned it." He stood, then saluted. "Enjoy your R and R, gentlemen."
And with that he turned, leaving us to contimplate what was happening. Two weeks of rest and relaxation had sounded like a blessing at the time. I was wrong.
We spent the two weeks on a small colony world known as "Atlas". It's overall population was nearly twenty thousand, but the planet was a beauty. Exotic flowers and plants covered the entire planets surface, and it's many moons only enhanced it's undefinitive beauty.
"Well this is it." Cortez said awkwardly in his UNSC uniform, a bag of belongings slung over his shoulder. That was the first time any of us had ever recieved R and R. Come to think of it, it might have been the first and only time since the beginning of the war that any soldier had received any.
"Yepp." I said nonchalantly, walking down the busy city street. It was a very large city, despite the population of the planet. I had guessed that nearly most of it's residents resided here.
"Where are you going, O'Brian?" Cortez asked.
"Out."
I walked the city streets for a bit, recollecting my thoughts. Cal, Checkmen, the shot, Cal, Checkmen, the shot, Cal, Checkmen, the shot. It replayed in my head over, and over again, each time becoming more of a burden than the last.
I had been so lost in thought, in fact, that I failed to notice the woman who I ran into. She fell to the ground with a gasp, taking me with her. I hit my back on the floor hard, grimacing in pain.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, clamping her hands over her mouth. I opened my eyes, and got a good look at her. My face immidiately turned red. I studdied every detail perfectly. Emerald green eyes, long, brown hair, and white, soft skin. The first thing I noticed, however, was the red rose she had pinned into her hair. It gave her an odd beauty.
"No, it's fine." I assured somberly, propping myself up on with my elbows. She was still sitting on my lap. I stared at her a moment, not wanting to ask her to get off, in case it might have been rude. She glanced at me confusingly, then looked down at herself, aware of her mistake. She picked herself up, and patted herself down, blushing wildly. She bent over, picking things up off the ground which had fallen out of a bag she had been carrying.
I stood up, and bent to help her, catching the glimpse of a novel . . . a very, very, old classic. "Tolkien?" I asked, amused.
She quickly snatched the book out of my hands, obviously even more embarassed. "Yes."
I smiled. "It's nothing to be embarassed about. I like The Lord of the Rings, too."
I listened to myself with newfound confusion. I couldn't even remember the last time I had said something politely . . . my smart-ass personality always got the best of me.
"Try telling my brother that," she laughed, gathering more of her things. "He always makes fun of me for it."
She glanced at me, studying my uniform. In return, I studdied her. She wore a white tanktop with a pink jacket, complimented by a pair of old-fashioned denim jeans. Her clothes didn't exactly shout "beautiful", but by the way she pulled them off, they seemed to. I finished helping her gather the rest of her things, then cleared my throat, embarassed.
"I guess I should get going now," she said shakily with a small laugh.
"Yeah, yeah . . . " I agreed, nodding awkwardly. That's when the smart-ass in me returned. "Unless you want to stay and make out." I whispered underneath my breath, not intending for her to hear. Her gaze rested on me for a few moments, as she looked with predatory eyes. Apparently, she had heard. "Look, I didn't mean tha--" She stopped me with the last thing I had expected.
It wasn't a slap to the face, or a kick to the groin . . . but a peck on the lips. I blinked stupidly. "What - what was that . . ?"
"Here," she said, handing me a slip of paper. I took it, surprised to see her frequency on it. "Call me when you get the chance." She turned, and walked away.
"W - wait," I stuttered nervously. She turned back again. "I didn't even get your name . . . "
She smiled, took the flower out of her hair, and tucked it into my chest-pocket. Another kiss on the cheek, and she left.
I observed the flower.
Rose.
Her name was Rose.
[Edited on 12.12.2009 4:41 PM PST]