Starcraft

Klaxon alarms sounded through the barracks. Jumping out of beds marines put on their jumpsuits, and sprinted through a hallway to the equip area. Lining up in groups of twelve behind the five equip platforms the first group of men stepped onto them. Cranes pulled five storage containers from the compartments on the walls. Dropping them into the slots next to the assembly platforms they moved to grab more as the containers opened. Robotic arms grabbed the pre-assembled suits pieces. Slipping into the arms, pieces of the legs were screwed together as the two pieces of the chest plate were placed to complete their marine armor. Stepping off the platform more soldiers stepped up to get suited. This process took less than one minute for the entire platoon. After all seventy two marines were suited they sprinted through more hallways in their powered suits. Thundering outside into the darkness they split off into groups of twelve, and climbed aboard their Armored Marine Carriers. These were massive three tons of steel on six wheels with a mounted eighty caliber turret. After the last two men were onboard a carrier they rolled out of the military compound into the city as their back hatches closed. They were headed out of the lit compound into the city of darkness.

Nine marines reached up, and grabbed a gauss rifle off the top rack running down the center of the AMC as they began to sit in the seats. Pulling clips and grenades out of the compartments lining their seats they inserted a clip into the weapon. Placing the remaining ammo on their armor they inserted the grenades in their left arm compartment. One of the marines with stripes on his right shoulder plate remained standing in the middle of the vehicle.

“Standard clean, and sweep in a third class building.”

Markus looked around him at his fellow squad that had mostly graduated from the academy with him. Some other marines checked their weapons while some had their eyes closed. Glancing at the cockpit he saw the driver and gunner in their infantry armor. It was some heavy body armor, and technical helmet that displayed information on small screens that covered their right eyes. Looking outside he saw buildings flash by in the darkness. Everyone in their squad re-checked their weapons as they neared their objective area, and a red light illuminated the inside. Michael ejected his clip, and inserted a new one.

Slowing down the driver slammed on the brakes while dropping the back hatch. Everyone stood, and closed their visors at the same moment. Two of the lowest members of the squad took the first steps out of the AMC followed by the rest of the squad. Markus’s comm crackled as he received the squad’s orders.

“We’re going to go in, and split up in groups of two, and clear the building. First two groups in the building move up to the second floor. Move up after your floor is cleared. Markus, you stay behind, and cover their flank.”

Nine marines rushed into the lit building. Markus ran in behind the rest of the squad. Sarge stayed in the AMC, and observed multiple screens. Following the first four to the concrete stairway he turned to watch the other four branch out through this floor. Magnetic propelled gauss rifle fire sounded through the building as a few small explosions echoed their shots.

[Why did Sarge assign me to this? Doesn’t he know I’m better than all of them?]

Markus looked around at the concrete walls that were bisected by hallways leading off to other rooms. One unkempt man rounded a corner aiming his bolt action rifle at Markus. Raising his own weapon he lined up his head within the targeting reticule displayed on his HUD. Failing to pull the trigger though the unkempt man had time to take his shot. Leaving the barrel, the bullet flew through the air while Markus came back to his senses. Pulling his own trigger before the bullet hit him, the hypersonic spike ripped through the man’s head as another single bullet ricocheted off of his shoulder plate into a nearby wall. The man’s body crumpled with a large bullet hole going through his forehead.

Four marines ran past Markus as they moved up to the third floor. Walking over to the body Markus looked at what was left of the man’s stubble covered face. His blue overalls gave his job away as a factory worker. Turning away Markus walked up the flight of stairs…

Running out of the lifeless building they jumped back into the AMC as it began to drive back to base. Sarge lowered his visor, but a light flashed on in the inside of his suit. Flipping his visor back up, he focused on the screen before talking over the comm.

“New plan. More terrorists are at another location. Markus you’ll be in my group. We’ll clear the floors one at a time. Keep an eye out for people trying to slip away.”

[Finally I get to do some shit. Real terrorists this time too.]

Checking his ammo count of 119 he ejected the clip, and inserted another one. The new display of 121 flashed on the gauss rifle. As the back hatch dropped everyone ran out in their groups, illuminated by the red light from the AMC.

Following sarge to the stairway he found himself standing next to him as the eight other marines cleared this floor. The orhers moved onto the next floor as Sarge remained where he was. Markus became impatient, and switched his comm over to a direct link between Sarge, and himself. Sarge walked over to a room of dead bodies. Markus followed him in.

“So why won’t you let me do anything Sarge.”

“You’ve shown some signs not normal of a Confederate Marine. What was with checking the body after you shot that man on the last op?”

“I don’t know.”

“Things like that get people killed Markus. You have to stay focused on your mission objectives. You don’t have time to get sidetracked. Also, I expected you to take him out before he got his shot off. Are you slowing down Markus?”

“I don’t understand why you won’t let me do my job.”

“Because you have a problem with killing people. That puts your squad in danger. Until you figure out a way to deal with it I’m going to reassign you to a reserve unit Markus Hallenman. I won’t have you endangering graduates from the academy.”

“This is a bunch of bullshit.”

“It’s not just a bunch of figures, and numbers Markus. I don’t care what I’m told by some vice admiral. You are not fit to serve in a regular Confederate unit. I’ll let you request your own transfer if you want though.”

“You guys are going around killing your own citizens. What the hell did they ever do to you?”

“They didn’t do anything to me. All I know is I follow orders. It’s not my fault if my commander wants entire buildings of citizens eliminated.”

“Fine, I’ll reassign myself when we get back to base. I’ll admit that I have a problem with killing citizens. But what about you? What does it say about you that you’ll kill your own citizens. I thought the marine oath involved protecting the citizens of the Confederacy.”

“I follow the chain of command Markus. If somewhere along the line a general wants people eliminated I’ll follow that order.”

“You are just a butcher in a poor neighborhood. I thought you guys were different back at the academy. Besides that, why don’t you kill anyone yourself? You just send your squad out, and let them deal with it.”

“I’ve killed my share of civilians Markus. How do you think I’ve been promoted? I served in the Guild Wars. I saw orbital bombardments on civilian populations by both sides. You have no idea what I’ve been through. I’ve seen some of the Confederacy’s darkest secrets…this is to give my men experience. You thought you were the best student Markus. But you’ve failed if you’re not willing to kill an enemy. You are a wash out.”

“I’m not going to be a butcher.”

“What about your first operation? I read the file on those dead kids. They decided that they were tired of being treated like second class citizens so they got hold of some guns, and tried to hole up in a building. All of them were around sixteen Markus.”

“I didn’t know. I just followed orders.”

“And that’s what I’m doing.”

Walking out of the room Sarge left Markus in this cramped room containing two bodies on a bunk bed. These were the bodies of industrial workers. Their pay was enough to live on, and either get wasted every weekend, or start a poor family. Markus switched his suits comm back to the squad channel.

“This is Michaels. Top floor is cleared, and I am reading zero hostiles.

“This is Sergeant Davenport. Get back to the AMC for return to base. We’ve filled our assignment today.”

Markus walked back to the AMC as his squad was inside waiting. As he stepped in the AMC rolled off. Patrick shot off a retort to him.

“Finally decided to show up Markus? Kind of like last week when we had to work while you got your time off. Think you are special or something?”

Sitting down in his seat at the front of the AMC Markus leaned his head back against the rest as he left his visor up. Closing his eyes he fell asleep.

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Markus opened his eyes. He was looking at the ceiling of what was an operating room. Feeling the small scar at the back of his skull from their incision he stood up. Rubbing his hand across his bald head he left the room to walk over to a nearby window that looked over this hidden valley.

“Glad to see you awake Markus.”

Turning to see the man carrying his datapad he looked over the valley again.

“It seems I can remember the Confederacy. Almost the same setup as our government, but with a different history.”

“I doubt that Markus. You’ll learn in your own time though. How about facts about the marines?”

“Ya I remember some stuff. Pull the trigger, shoot some people, ranks and insignias. I seem to not have the emotions or personal experiences though. Its just like I remember facts, and what to do in certain situations.”

“We tried to take out the emotions, but his experiences should have been there. That’s strange. Oh well, you’ve got the required information. I wonder what went wrong though.”

“When are you handing me over to the Confederacy?”

“Depends on when Vice Admiral Raneil shows up.”

“So does that mean I have time to go, and do something?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Visit a friend before I leave.”

“Are you sure you don’t have any personal experiences from the operation?”

“Ya I’m sure. But everything else is here.”

“Do you now what you are getting into Markus by signing on to become a marine in the Confederacy?”

“Yes.”

“If you want I can tell you where Natalya is.”

“How did you know?”

“She came by your father’s mansion after she checked your place the day after you left. You’ve been out for two weeks.”

“So where is she at?”

“Umojan Naval forces have her assigned to her medium cruiser to begin patrol today.”

“So she’s already gone.”

“No. She just arrived at a restaurant five minutes ago.”

“How do I get there from here?”



Running past the security guards Markus went through the restaurant looking for Natalya. Not seeing her on this floor he ran up the stairway to the roof. Looking around he saw her sitting at a table with a young fleet officer with the insignia of a lieutenant. She wore a red dress, and had her head leaned against her hand. Stirring her drink, she didn’t even pay attention to the officer as he droned on about how great the naval forces were. When Markus neared the table Natalya looked up.

“Markus, I thought you were already gone to the marines.”

“Well I’ve got some time left, and I told you I would spend it with you.”

Standing up from his untouched dinner the naval officer spoke.

“The marines are a bunch of pieces of shit not even fit to lick my boot. What do you think you are even doing here in a restaurant let alone talking to a fleet admiral’s daughter? Why don’t you go back, and join your third class family.”

“This is exactly the type of crap I’m trying to get away from. Maybe it will be better in the Confederacy.”

“Wow a marine in the Confederacy. I thought you were a piece of shit before, but now I see I shouldn’t be anywhere near you.”

“Natalya, can we leave? I don’t know how long I have left.”

Sighing she looked over at Markus.

“I can’t Markus.”

“You heard her. Leave scumbag.”

Natalya stood up, and looked over at the lieutenant.

“You can leave too you pretentious bastard. Compared to him physically you look like a piece of shit. All you talk about is how great the fleet is, and how cool you are for becoming a fleet officer despite being a second class citizen.”

Both of them were shocked, and stood still as Natalya left them. The naval officer sat back down, realizing everyone else was staring at him. As her head disappeared down the stairway Markus began to sprint. Weaving in between the tables he reached the stairs. Looking down them in full stride he didn’t see her so he made a split second decision. Deciding to jump down the entire flight of stairs was a bad idea. He cleared the entire set, but the ten foot drop was a different story. Realizing his mistake Markus tried to roll with it, but the force of hitting his shoulder against the marble floor dislocated it as his body slid along the smooth floor. Looking up from his prone position he saw a red dress disappear inside the closing elevator. Getting up he ran over to the elevator, and banged on the metallic doors with his fist. After a few seconds the elevator’s doors opened revealing an empty inside. Getting in he spoke the words for the main floor.

Stepping out holding his shoulder a security guard approached him. An ex-marine, he held out his hand for Markus to stop. Digging for his identification in his pockets Markus remembered he didn’t have it on him. Moving, he ducked under the guard’s massive arm. Sprinting towards the doors he went outside as a burst of gunfire rent the air. Turning towards the right Markus ran as out of the corner of his eye he saw a red car to his left. Running to his own black car Markus flipped out the remote, and pressed two different buttons. The car’s nuclear fusion reactor came to life as Markus slid into the opening door. Slamming his foot on the gas the car’s tires screeched as it flipped a u-turn in the traffic.

Weaving in between traffic Markus got held up when the light turned red. This was one of those times he wished he had gotten a hover car instead of the reminiscent cars as he waited for half a minute. Watching the red car amongst the plain, white, square automobiles reserved for lower classes he saw it turn towards her building. Seeing the light turn green Markus gunned it. Accelerating to two hundred thirty kilometers per hour he slammed on the brakes as he turned. Giving it gas he drifted around the corner. Seeing another light turn red he blasted through the intersection, deciding not to slow down, and waste more of his time. Weaving out of the light traffic he saw her building. Luckily for him it was on the opposite side of the road. Slamming on the brakes he turned his car around as the tires burned away their rubber. Reversing across the lanes he parked his car next to hers. Getting out he thanked whoever was listening that he had taken those classes on driving. Inside the building he saw her as the elevator doors opened to allow her in.

“Natalya, wait.”

Turning around she saw him. Her mouth dropped as she saw his shirt that was soaked in blood on his left side. Two bullets had hit his left arm, and one had hit his lower stomach. Markus looked at his blood soaked shirt before blacking out.


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“New game plan folks, headquarters wants us at another location. There should be heavier resistance, so it might be a challenge. We’ll be there in thirty seconds.”

Markus opened his eyes as he looked around the AMC. Looking around he saw the other marines grab more clips, and fresh grenades to replenish their used ammo. Closing his eyes Markus heard Sarge’s voice.

“Markus, you’ll stay inside on this one. You can observe the AMC’s screens of how real marine’s act.”

Looking at the cockpit he saw the three inch bullet proof glass window. Remembering from his stored memories that a metal sheet could be deployed over the window Markus stood up. Looking outside he saw a two story building. The turret opened fire, and its windows shattered. Nine marines moved outside into the open. Closing the distance they moved up onto the second floor. Watching Relex’s kill cam he saw as he switched to thermal vision. Moving over to a closed door he peered inside through the wall. Seeing the room as clear he opened the room to check.

Heavy machine gun fire erupted from one of the second floor rooms. A tripod was set up that was operated remotely. Turning towards his partner, Yulith saw Relex go down, and tossed a DP-5 in the room. Detonating the trip mine inside the room, it left a gaping hole of where that section of the second story used to be.

“This is Michaels. Relex, and Yulith are down. I don’t know what hit them.”

“Markus to Michaels. It was a remote tripod with some sort of IED.”

“What the fuck Markus. Why aren’t you in here with us?”

Markus looked back at the screen. Seeing two of the other marines they picked up on a thermal at the back of the first floor, and moved over to its location. Standing up in a stolen suit of armor he opened fire with his gauss rifle. Spraying the two, Markus saw their vitals flat line in two seconds. Sarge threw a DP-20 grenade next to where the rebel was standing. Moving back into cover, the grenade went off, ripping a hole through the ceiling, Sarge reported the area as clear. Everyone moved back to the AMC, and rode quietly. Sarge swore loudly on the way back.

“Fuck. HQ wants us to investigate why a squad stopped transmitting. We’re going to their co-ordinates now. It’s in the neighborhood.”

Pulling up to the area the AMC’s headlights illuminated the shell of another carrier. A large hole was in its cockpit along with the remnants of what was left of four suits in the main area. Bullet riddled marines lay face down less than one meter from its position. Slamming the brakes the hatch lowered as the gunner reported.

“Hostiles spo…”

An RPG fired from the third story hit the front glass of the AMC. Shattering, the fireball immolated both the driver, and the gunner. The two privates stepping out of the vehicle had their visors shattered as fifty caliber rounds penetrated their visors into their skulls. Closing the hatch, sarge grabbed the driver’s helmet while closing the steel cover for the window, throwing the AMC into reverse as another RPG narrowly missed. Men in powered armor with an emblazoned insignia of red, an arm with a whip, stepped out of the neighboring buildings.

“This is Sergeant Davenport requesting fire support at designation area Epsilon.”

“Bombardment on the way. You have ten seconds to clear the area.”

Swearing audibly Sarge looked through the small screen on the helmet while slamming on the brakes to turn around. Skidding, the AMC slammed into a nearby building, crushing the rebel in his powered armor unlucky enough to get in the way, before continuing its course. Accelerating to one hundred fifty kilometers per hour powered by its nuclear core the vehicle cleared the immediate area. Patrick, and Markus remained standing as the rest took their seats.

“Sarge, do you fucking know what you’ve just done?”

“Yes, I fucking do Patrick. Now take your seat.”

An incoming high explosive artillery round hit a building near the target area less than five seconds after the call. The shell penetrated through the floors of the building to hit ground level. Exploding, it completely wiped out the concrete structure of the first three bottom floors; the building collapsing into nothing more than a pile of rubble. Screams were drowned out by another shell hitting another building a couple hundred yards away from the target area. More buildings exploded as several more shells fell into the occupied civilian buildings. Several explosions became a deafening roar ten seconds later after the call as an inferno filled where thirty four ten-story buildings used to be. One lone AMC returned to its compound.

Stepping out of the AMC was the six remaining members of the squad. Walking towards the barracks the group split in half. Nausich, Sarge, and Markus led the group as the other three slowed down to their own pace. Sarge branched off towards his office while Michael, and Markus walked through the halls in their powered armor.

“So Markus what’s up with Sarge sticking you on rear duty?”

“I don’t know. He probably thinks I still need some time off.”

“Shit man. The number one kid from the academy gets put on rear guard duty. Let’s go get some food”

Markus said nothing as they walked through the metallic halls. Arriving at the mess hall it was empty except for the chef. Grabbing a few SRDs they sat down.

“So what did you guys do while I was gone last week?”

“Same shit we’ve been doing this week except for the part about casualties, and heavy resistance. Last week it was just some disgruntled citizens with guns. It just makes it all that more challenging though. Too bad our squad couldn’t handle it.”

Their suits comms interrupted their conversation.

“Get your asses to this AMC.”

Taking off at a sprint they rushed through the halls. An alarm blared throughout the entire structure, and the rest of the buildings in the compound. Becoming crowded, the halls filled with people running. A ratio of two females to one male ran through the halls now. Trying to make their way through the crowd of people Markus fell behind Michael, and followed him through the halls. Normally, a designated walk area would have made things easier, but marines were not planned to be located in the mess hall in their suits when the alarms went off. Managing not to hurt anyone they made it outside. Dropships landed, and more squads of marines came to fill the AMCs. Medics began to rush out of the building as the two marines climbed aboard their AMC. Patrick had his tactical shield assembled with the tri-barreled grenade launcher leaned against an empty seat next to him. Six other marines were in the AMC. A medic came in with four other marines, and sat down next to Michael. Sergeant Davenport began his overview as everyone loaded up on ammo, and the AMC left the compound.

“Rebels have seized a key Confederate military production facility in the industrial district a few minutes ago. Our job is to eliminate them. Damage to the industrial production is not acceptable. Michael, and myself will rendezvous with Bear. You three will take the workers living quarters. A few squads already have them penned inside the building. This will be a joint op. You three will be going in with the main force. We should be there in a minute.”

Patrick checked his grenade launcher for flaws. Engaging their stimpacks, the new marine’s pupils dilated. Skinnie talked about how he had a girl back in the city waiting for him. No one believed him. Michael hit on the medic. Sarge remained silent while Markus closed his eyes.

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Opening his eyes he saw only a blank white ceiling. Coming into focus, he saw it was a hospital room. The I.V. ran to his arm, and he looked at the mask on his face. He looked around for Natalya. Trying to move his arm he slightly moved his fingers instead. Looking over at the door he saw a woman in a red dress walk in. Trying to sit up his body wouldn’t respond. A male doctor walked into the room.

“For a second there we thought we lost you. You became conscious twenty one minutes, and thirty seconds ago, but then had a seizure.”

Shifting his gaze solely on Natalya he tried to focus on her face. It was blurry, but he could tell it was her. Sitting down on a chair next to him he tried to sit up again.

“Markus it’ll never work. You’ll be gone to the marines in a few days and dead in a few months. Why couldn’t you just become a naval officer? I waited to find someone like you my whole life. I’ll see you around.”

Kissing him on the forehead she left the room. Markus looked back at the ceiling, and focused on the light. Breathing the pure oxygen he closed his eyes.

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Feeling the AMC brake Markus opened his eyes, and looked around him through his visor. The back hatch dropped, and they all filed out. Standing outside the vehicle Markus saw around fifty soldiers, and a few medics split around the area. Coming over the comm the CO of the area laid out the plan.

“We’ll have our main force in these three AMCs drive through this concrete wall. The rest of you know the plan. I want every person inside that building fragged.”

Flashing, his HUD showed him the direction to the AMC. Getting in with Skinnie, Patrick, and Ryan they boarded the AMC with the rest of the normal marines. Sliding the steel covers down over the windows it cloaked the AMC in darkness except for the red illumination. Everyone switched to thermal vision except for Markus. Feeling the vehicle accelerate Markus braced his knees against the impact that would be the wall.

Crushing the wall the AMCs drove into the middle of the area before dropping their back hatches. Marines filed out the back, and split off to the front. Gunfire was exchanged between the SoK marines, and the Confederate marines. Markus walked out, and looked around him. Stimmed marines shrugged off blows that would make a normal man stop in his tracks. The SoK marines were caught out in the open, and overwhelmed by the three eighty caliber turrets. Catching a flash of steel, Markus looked up at the catwalks of this facility. Seeing a thin boot, he saw more movement among the catwalks. Switching to his suit’s night vision he saw a newer model of armor. Markus’s programmed memories told him that this suit was the same durability, and muscle enhancement of normal armor, but a lot smaller. It hardly changed the wearer’s appearance except for maybe a half foot in height, and a few inches in width. Also, that the suits cloaked themselves from thermal vision as they adapted to the surrounding area’s average temperature.

Raising his C-20 gauss rifle he sighted the first hostile. Squeezing the trigger, one round left the barrel while he shifted his sights to another target before that bullet had penetrated the suit’s armored helmet. This slaughter continued as the other marine’s looked around confused with their thermal vision as they saw one marine firing at the ceiling. However, the last remaining enemy trooper realized what was going on. Hefting the missile launcher, he fired. His jackhammer missile hit the middle APC. It penetrated its metal armor into the inside before exploding, sending shrapnel into the nearest marines suits as Markus’s bullet entered his brain. His body fell over the catwalk railings to the ground. In three seconds Markus had killed five enemy troopers. Facing his fear of killing others wasn’t a problem when their faces were covered in their black helmets, and black visors.

[Disappointing, SoK elites thought every marine would have his thermal vision on, and grouped together. Their reliance in their technology, and superiority has failed them.]

Stimmed marines followed their orders, and moved on through the building. One marine walking on died from his circulatory system’s severe loss of blood. Stimpacks did not make them completely superhuman. Markus saw a new objective flash on his HUD that showed a side passage to the dormitories. Medics came into the room accompanied by an armored figure with two bars on his right shoulder plate.

“Damn Markus that was some nice shit.”

Looking over he saw Sarge’s suit walk into the room alone with his visor up. Smiling, he responded.

“It isn’t that hard when they are actual enemies.”

Seeing the air ripple on a catwalk Markus looked up. Watching a flash from the catwalks above him a high explosive canister from a C-10 cruised through the air. Unloading on the area Markus hoped the cloaked assailant was there. He saw a spurt of fluid as a bullet hit something, but the HE canister still impacted Sarge’s chest plate. For a split second Markus saw the crimson red hair flowing down past the neckline of the Hostile Environment Suit as the assailant lost her focus in that short period of time. His impaler round had found her right shoulder, breaking her concentration for that second.

Markus stopped firing when he saw the crimson hair. No longer was this a faceless threat, but a person again, not to mention a very attractive woman. The ex-ghost trooper left the catwalks under her stealth to escape. Markus looked over at Sarge’s body lying on the ground. A large hole remained where his chest cavity used to be. Gunfire erupted from the room beyond as marines fought with their SoK counterparts. Markus left the body where it was, and moved to join the rest of the marines.

Running through the hallway he came into a large area that had several bodies of Confederate Marines lying in the opening into this new room. Glancing at several marines who had taken cover behind concrete pillars near the entrance he dove for cover that was previously taken by a breathing marine. Bullets lashed where Markus was standing, and the few marines who were smart enough used this time to return fire at their enemy; sliding back into cover as a heavy machine gun, and several gauss rifles volleyed back at the marines. One marine stood out to long, and was shredded by the bullets of the heavy machine gun as they sliced through his armor, and into his internal organs. Still firing, his stimpacks held him together until the heavy gunner shifted his fire to his face. Obliterating his head, a few more bullets left his C-14 gauss rifle from his stimmed reflexes before his body slumped to the ground.

No one fired another shot as his body hit the ground. Blood poured from his neck, and leaked from the small, and large holes in the armor. A large pool formed around his body. Markus looked at the headless marine who used to have a life. Radioing to his squad he tried to find out what was going on.

“This is P.F.C. Fenix. What is the current situation in this room?”

“Private 10392. Enemy forces hit us when we walked into the room. All officers are dead. We are at one fifth strength. They have a heavy machine gun emplacement backed by several marines. Number of hostiles, and their current position is unknown. We’re pinned down, and I believe this operation is FUBAR. You are the highest ranking officer in the area.”

Opening his grenade compartment he remembered that he was one of the few marines who carried more than one type of grenade. He pulled out a grenade the size of his out stretched hand, and radioed in.

“We’re going to take their position. Wait for this grenade to go off.”

“Sir we already tried to nade their position. That’s what some of those dead bodies are from.”

“We are going to perform maneuver Kleinstien.

Rolling the grenade out into the middle of the room from behind his cover he smiled. Waiting for the compressed smoke to eject from the grenade propelled by the small amount of compressed air into the room he looked over at the marine next to him. He had already dropped down from his standing position. The smoke covered the entire middle area. The SoK marines fired blindly. Ten Confederate marines crawled out of their cover nearer to the enemy line. Each pulled out a frag grenade, and tossed it against the back wall where the enemy line was. Audible swearing was heard as the grenades went off. Standing up the ten marines rushed what used to be the enemy line. All of the hostiles were down. Nine of the marines sent a bullet hole into the skull of each of the bodies in their hijacked power suits.

“Awaiting your orders NCO.”

“Markus looked at the man who was talking to him with respect.

“As you said operation’s FUBAR. We’ll pull out while we still can.”

An interdicting voice sounded over the comm. system.

“This is Lieutenant Chambers. You will not pull out. You will proceed with the mission. We have five soldiers that are going to rendezvous with you. You’ll hold position until then.”

Sighing, two of the marines sat down against the concrete pillars as the rest meandered around. Markus pulled up a tactical map on his H.U.D., and saw a group of three friendlies nearing their position. However, four figures in their small, jet black armor walked out of the smoke screen Markus had created. Rolling a grenade into the group of congregated marines they opened fire on the rest with their gauss rifles. Exploding, the grenade immolated six of the marines as gauss rifle rounds sheared through the remaining two standing. Markus felt the muscles tear as the bullets passed through them. Nine rounds pierced through Markus’s armor as the gunner sprayed across his body in a diagonal pattern. One entered his right shoulder, right bicep, left forearm, and left hand. Four bullets had passed through his chest, and one was lodged in his stomach. Collapsing backwards onto the floor he looked at the ceiling as the remaining two marines exchanged fire with the enemy troopers. Coughing blood, Markus’s suit injected him with pain killers. The automatic injection system for the stim packs in his suit only put more blood in his system to be pumped back out. Looking at the ceiling as the tracers filled the air above his head the ceiling brightened to a pure white. Seeing this visage broken by a black figure striding over him Markus smiled.

[I should’ve been a fleet officer on Umoja.]

Comm chatter broke his peace as Markus half-heartedly listened to it.

“This is private 19821. We are being overwhelmed. Where’s that back up?”

“This is Lieutenant Chambers. We have three privates moving to your position. Hold your ground.”

One marine hid behind the concrete pillar to reload his gauss rifle while the other abandoned blind firing to throw a grenade. Three grouped jet black troopers split off as a grenade was lobbed near them while the one standing over Markus killed the marine that threw it. Exploding, it cleared away the smoke screen. Turning, the three jet black troopers saw the three marines step into the room. Their smart H.U.D.s identified one of the three for each of them. Ryan, and Skinnie were cut down by the first volley. Injecting their stimpacks, they stood for a few more milliseconds as more depleted uranium shells ripped through their bodies. Patrick’s shield worked, and he pulled the trigger. The first grenade going through the chamber was one of the five percent that were deemed to be acceptable to malfunction. Most marines checked for these, but Patrick had top loaded an entire box of grenades onto his weapon. Jamming in the barrel, it exploded, causing a chain reaction of nine more grenades to kill the last marine that was part of the supposed reinforcements.

Smiling the entire time, Markus listened to a female talking to him on his comm. Responding weakly to her pleas he replied weakly.

“Who is this?”

Three of the four jet black troopers moved to flank the last marine as the last one knelt over Markus, the black figure lowering over him. A chain gun began to whir. Turning around, they saw an ominous, ten foot marine armor. His bullets tore through their armor like it was toilet paper. Managing to squeeze off a few of their own shots their bullets glanced off his reinforced NeoSteel, only managing to enhance their fear in death.

Markus smiled as his view of the white ceiling returned to its former, unbroken peace. Turning his thoughts back onto his childhood he realized he had been treated even more differently here than when he was back on Umoja. On Umoja, he was an athletic first class citizen. Here, he was a piece of shit to some, another marine, or just some extremely good looking guy. He remembered the people that had treated him differently than the rest. The three women he had seen in his life. One saw him as a marine, one saw him as a first class citizen, and one saw him as a person. Smiling, Markus thought about all of them until a cross broke his visage. Shifting his focus onto it, he saw some outlines appear. As his vision of the white ceiling returned to its gray concrete he realized it was the cross on a shoulder plate of a medic he was looking at.

Looking at the x-ray on her visor she saw the bullet that was lodged inside his stomach. Pulling out a syringe, she straightened his arm. Injecting him, the chemicals coursed through his system. When they hit an area of bleeding, it reached the surface, and reacted with the air. It was supposed to create a scab at a bleeding area. Scabbing four of the bullet holes completely, the rest just coagulated. But the last one still bled freely. Markus coughed up more blood as she raised his visor. Inserting the card, it read Markus’s vitals. Determining they were at a level beyond the required it powered down the magnetic clamps holding together his armor. Pulling out a field marine kit she undid the remaining bolts. Pulling off the front of his chest plate, she pulled out her surgical tools. Placing an IV that ran into his arm; it was carrying the blood from her storage system on her suit. Starting to cry, she dropped the surgical tools she held in her hands as she looked at his bleeding body. She felt horrible for treating him like she treated everyone else. She based him on how good looking he was. This guided most of her decisions the day she had met him. Opening her own visor she tried to wipe away the tears. Laughing, Markus placed his metal gauntlet on her shoulder plate as blood oozed from his arm.

Another medic came in the room, and moved to the opposite side of Markus. Neurally resocialized, she performed her job with mechanical precision. Re-inflating his collapsed lung she performed a field operation. She retrieved the bullet that was lodged in his stomach, and disassembled the rest of his armor. Patching up the other bullet wounds, she pulled out her injector. Placing it on his forearm she injected him. Markus looked over at Jamie’s eyes. He moved his hand to her cheek before the chemicals took effect, and put him into a supposed dreamless sleep.

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Markus watched from inside his skull as he moved with mechanical precision. He was no longer a player, but an observer. Sighting the unkempt man, he pulled the trigger, and killed the man. Moving over to his body he looked at his blank stare. Screaming, Markus tried to do something. He couldn’t move. Watching, he saw as Relex opened the door, and the tripod fired at him. His flat lines dropped. Knowing what happened next Markus turned towards Yulith’s screen. Seeing his partner drop, he pulled out a frag grenade, and threw it into the room. The explosion happened in slow motion. Exploding, the wall fragments hit his visor. Shattering, the wave of fire filled the screen. Turning towards the other two screens he saw as another suit of armor stood up. Reading the insignia, he saw it was part of a Confederate squad before it was destroyed by a DP-20.

He knew what was going to happen on the AMC ride. He watched as the RPG hit the window. Each hairline crack grew at their own individual pace. Shattering, it let the beginning of the firestorm in on them. Turning he saw as the two marines found their visors shattered with their polarized pieces spreading out from their helmet. Markus tried to close his eyes, but he couldn’t. His vision was filled with the red illumination in the interior of the AMC.

Going inside the factory confederate marines fought in their various engagements. Seeing the men on the catwalks, he saw as his bullet shattered their visors. Seeing Davenport die again, he couldn’t do anything. Looking at the assailant, he saw her face as she turned with inhuman speed. Her viridian eyes were filled with rage when she killed the Confederate officer. Seeing her eyes shift to himself, she turned her head, and left with her crimson hair flowing behind her. Looking at her shoulder, he saw the red insignia of the whip curled around an arm.

In that split second he saw her it felt like an eternity for him. Seeing her curves Markus couldn’t help but mentally succumb to his own thoughts. The moment when his perception of her was lost was too soon for him.

Seeing the one marine that was to slow, he saw as the bullets rip through his armor. Seeing his death grip, he waited for the heavy machine gun to turn towards his head. A line of bullets trailed up towards his visor, shattering it. Blood splattered everywhere from his now unprotected head. Collapsing, he saw as he hit the floor. Blood leaked across the ground, forming a pool of blood around the marine’s body.

Seeing every person die this way was horrible. Each person he had personally killed brought extreme sorrow to himself in this situation. Each individual minute seemed to stretch into an hour. He saw everything around him in the period of time since he woke up that morning. Feeling his emotions multiplied in each scenario, Markus felt pangs of guilt from those he had murdered tear at his sanity.

Watching as the jet black figures emerged from the smoke, he saw a grenade roll. Seeing each individual bullet penetrate his suit, and blood shoot out from each spot. His body fell to the ground.

Moving on to his last memory Markus knew it was the medic he met back at the base. He waited for her to lower her visor. He wanted to look at her face before he relived the cycle. That moment never came…