Chapter 24 - The Finch Flies(2) - Forgotten Last Stand(1)

  Throughout human history, there has, for a significant portion of time, been a certain honor and glory assigned with putting oneself in a dangerous position for something greater than themselves.

  When warriors meet on the battlefield in columns, the warrior on the right in the front row would become more honorable after the battle. And the man that stood his ground against three foes until his last breath would be forgotten.

  When ladders were fixed to a castle wall, the first man to step foot on the wall was named a hero while the last defender to fall off the wall would fall into the abyss of time as if they didn’t exist.

  When trenches were dug and shells were flying, the first man over the top was honorable while the one to gasp their last breath of air in the burning mist would find themselves thrown to the side, forgotten.

  So, what now? What is the most honorable thing one can do in a time where almost no soldier can have a true death? Obviously, nothing has changed. The two most honorable men is the first one in, and the last one out. But as always, nobody remembers the last one out.

  The floodlights flickered.

  A marine looked down at his feet and saw seven empty repeater magazines with dark catalyst fluid dripping down the sides. He held a magazine up to his eyes. There was a little bit of faintly glowing liquid at the bottom of the magazine. He shook it next to his helmet. Probably three shots left.

  The marine smiled at himself as his HUD flickered. He was on a backup energy core. Mist sprayed into his eyes, remoisturizing them after many hours of constant battle.

  Room B1103. Barracks. He looked up at the flickering sign above the exit of the doorway. A crumbled mass of metal was patched over the emergency exit that he had entered this room to escape the invaders.

  He chuckled to himself, “They’re bound to find me soon.”

  With a few taps on the wrist his HUD rematerialized in his vision, “Let’s just use it all.”

  Down it his waist held a small dark blue dagger in a black sheath that covered both sides of the blade. He tapped it and winked at the thought of it.

  A low humming sound resonated inside his helmet.

  The marine stood up, “Damn. Already?”

  The humming was replaced by a high-pitched clicking noise, “Shit.”

  Shoving the magazine into the bottom of the rifle, he quickly pumped the repeater plasma charge into the chamber. At the doorway he let out a deep breath.

  The chances were equal. 50-50. Left or right. With his left hand he hit a series of buttons on his right wrist and the HUD in his helmet turned orange.

  “Switching to Thermal Optics, wavelength bet-”

  The marine slapped a button on his wrist and the computer muted itself. He looked at the silhouette of a man in the bottom left corner of the HUD. Next to it were two heart icons. One had 180 while the other had 150 in the middle. A red warning appeared, “Please rest, heart rate approaching dangerous levels. Stimulants recommended.”

  The marine pressed four more buttons and a row of six lines appeared next to the silhouette.

  Four of them were empty and two were about a quarter full. The marine tapped the two lines that still had color in them.

  *tshh*

  A sharp breath through his clenched teeth let out a small hissing sound before he exhaled.

  Right or left?

  He laughed, “This situation aint going right so let’s go left.”

  He paused and looked behind him, “Not like there’s any of us left. Just me. Only me.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  With a quick tap on the magazine with his middle finger he stood next to the door. He placed the rifle up to the door handle.

  “Here goes nothing.”

  *Pop*

  With a pull, the marine yanked the door into the room and leaned into the hallway with his sight fixed down the left side.

  Three blobs of orange appeared before him.

  *Pop*

  The bolt of blue plasma burst out of the rifle the instant the marine saw a thermal signature. The bolt pierced the skull of the first incoming assailant and splashed inside the man’s brain instantly vaporizing the back of their head and splashing onto two others behind them.

  One shot left.

  Faint green masses appeared behind the two falling masses down the hallway.

  The marine shoved the rifle behind his back and with a click secured it to a weapon holder. He drew the dark blue dagger from his waist and crouched down low.

  Down the corridor, a voice yelled, “Anything down there?!”

  The marine crept forward stepping over the three dead bodies and towards the voice. Finally reaching the corner of the corridor, he waited at the corner.

  “Hell- *AUCK*” *Sqlch*

  The marine lunged forward and dragged the man around the corner and stabbed the back of his neck. In an instant, the man died with a thump to the ground.

  The marine stared at the dagger and thumbed over the bottom of the hilt.

  *Splat*

  A mist of red hung in the air as the head that was once in his hand was now smeared on the walls in front of him.

  From an earpiece, the marine heard, “Do you copy? Hi?”

  *Crunch*

  Leaving the crushed microphone behind, the marine slipped the dagger back into its sheath and drew the repeater rifle. Down the hall were numerous heat signatures and search lights.

  The marine stared down the scope and put the leading figure inside the small reticle. With a glance at a corner of his HUD, he noticed that the computer had switched into combat commands. He sighed, “Cal, cmd abreevs on.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Show route data access.”

  A panel popped up in front of him. He’d need to pass through this corridor of hostiles to get to it. The marine cursed, “Shit.”

  Placing the stock of the rifle up to his shoulder, he leaned against the wall and exhaled.

  *tack* *shhh* *Pop*

  A splash of blood scattered behind the marine as he swung the top half of his body around the corner and brought the rifle up to his eyes. The sound of the rifle’s final shot echoed through the dark hallways as all of the remaining catalyst was injected into the chamber for one final shot.

  “Warning, rifle barrel damaged. Warni- “

  “Shut.”

  The marine looked up and saw a burnt-out light and punched it. With the fragment, he looked at the reflection down the hallway.

  In the middle of the air was a smoking splatter of sputtering luminescent plasma. The man froze, “Shit. A shield.”

  Multiple loud cracks were heard down the hallway and the glass piece shattered between his fingers as a bullet flew past him and embedded itself in the wall opposite him.

  The man stared at the hole in the wall and back at the map in front of him. The terminal was 40 meters away. It was doable.

  He hit a few buttons on his wrist, “Hey. Cal. Get Op three dot four on a data stick.”

  The man pulled out a thin black cylinder out of his shirt pocket and held it up to his wrist. A series of flashing lights on his HUD lit up and a line of text scrawled across his screen in red letters.

  The computer said, “Protocol three, protect the empire. Operation four, destroy sensitive assets.”

  The marine gave a little smile and loosened his glove slightly. He quickly stuffed the data stuck down the back of his right forearm.

  With a short breath, he drew the dark blue dagger from it’s sheath, “Cal, inject fifty mils of stimulants.”

  “Warning. Fift- “

  “Override.”

  “Warn- “

  “Override.”

  *tshh*

  With a gasp the marine crouched down, “Well, here goes nothing.”

  The marine sprinted down the corridor as bullets shot at him. The sound of lead hitting metal sent high pitched echoes through the hallway as the marine ran towards the floating plasma.

  5 meters

  4 meters

  3

  2

  1

  “FOR THE EMPEROR!”

  The man raised the dagger up to his left shoulder and held the button on the bottom with his left thumb while his body pressed against the whole dagger.

  *crrck* *crack* *tsch*

  The invisible shield shattered as the dagger slowly stabbed into it. After stumbling for a step, the marine continued sprinting down the hallway and saw as a data terminal and four heat signatures appeared in front of him. He loosened his glove, ready to fling the data stick.

  All four of the figures were holding ancient pistols and shot handmade bullets. In a matter of seconds, the marine was in front of the four of them; two bullets had cracked his visor, and a bullet had hit the soft armor joint of his shoulder.

  *Sqlch* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

  *Sqlch* *Splat* *BANG*

  *Sqlch* *Splat*

  *Sqlch* *Splat*

  The first body fell forward with bullets embedded in the dead intruder’s back while the second’s head was turned into a red mist. The final two were stabbed in the hearts and flopped to the floor, lifeless.

  The man flicked his wrist and caught the data stick out of the air and placed it in a hole on the data terminal. Words appeared on the screen in blood red letters:

  Initiating Rushed Data Destruction

  The marine heard something further down the hall and turned. A deep red heat signature bigger than the previous four intruders combined loomed over him in this wider passageway.

  The marine’s breath quickened, “A Flare.”

  At Zero’s Home

  Zero looked at the book that mother had asked him to read. A last stand? What was that supposed to mean. The book was titled, “Heroic War Tales.”

  Huh, one chapter on so called “Last Stands.”

  Zero only thought about it for a second before the inviting smell of dinner touched his nose.

  Who cares. Right?