I turned back around and followed the rest of the men down the slope. It was time to get the heck out of this mineshaft.
***
“Watch your step, you don’t want to go tumbling down any holes now, do you?” Spooks said from the front, turning toward the rest of us for a moment or two and smiling.
It seemed as if Spooks was very much enjoying his role as leader of the pack. I guess I was enjoying the moment too, especially since the former squad leader had shown his true colours right before a rock made him go splat. Spooks turned back around and kept his sights on what was in front of us.
The whole place was dark and eerily quiet. There was a certain hollowness to the atmosphere, even our footsteps sounded as if they were without much purpose. It’s hard to explain, but it is as if everything around us was missing something. Like the air had been sucked out of the mineshaft and we were in a vacuum. A vacuum of fear. And that fear was starting to whittle me down.
My nerves were all over the place, and so were the collective nerves of the rest of the squad. There were no egg shells on the ground, but it certainly felt like we were walking on some. Everybody was listening out for any audible signs of imminent contact. It was bound to take place. There was no denying the fact that we were deep behind enemy lines, so deep in fact, I wasn’t too sure whether we’d actually make it to the surface. It was pretty much a miracle that we’d managed to defend ourselves against a horde of reptilian pirates earlier on. But luck has a way of only favouring the novice. The first timers.
I should know, I’d been nothing but lucky since starting this tour of duty. But luck wears off. It’s fickle. One minute, luck is your friend and the very next, it is your worst enemy. As I said, luck favours the novice. The novice recruit. The novice gambler. The first timer at life. But then, then you become intermediate. And any intermediate gambler will tell you that luck has nothing to do with what they do. Big-time gamblers win. And winners don’t rely on luck, they rely on skill. So there will become a point where I can no longer rely on the stars above. And for a lot of the recruits, and the other men in the squad, I think all of us know that luck, our luck, has surely run out.
We continued to walk through the winding natural corridors of the mineshaft. The walls around us were hard and jagged. I spotted a few precious stones within the rocks, infused through time, and wondered how much they would be worth back on Earth. I’m also pretty sure that the rest of the men were wondering the same thing. Danger had a way of making one’s mind wander. Wander off into the ether of safety. For somewhere deep within the core of your brain lies a safe haven. A safe place where when in immediate danger you cling onto its fabric, thinking that maybe it will be the last time you ever feel the comfort of said safety. And I guess the precious stones in the walls made me feel the same way.
Back on Earth, I enjoyed spending money. I enjoyed it more so than most. I liked to go out, I liked to buy clothes and I liked to feel good. The only reason I took this job was because it paid well. Little did I know that whilst I was on tour, there would be no opportunities to spend my money. In fact, if I ever got back home, there’d probably be a bunch of it waiting in my bank account. Waiting to be spent. And that would do me just fine, but the thing is, I was starting to wonder if I would ever get back. I know the tour had just technically started, and this was basically my first day, but it had been the longest day I’d ever experienced in my life.
In the space of a couple hours on the Tribeca planet, in conjunction with the many hours at boot camp, away from civilisation, I had distanced myself from the man I once was. And as we walked through the darkness, the sound of loose stones scattering against the sand, the eeriness of the cave in the mineshaft above us like a black cloud about to burst, I realized that the man I used to be, was not the man I was now.
Even passing past those rocks, and those precious stones, money was the last thing on my mind. I actually was experiencing some regrets. Maybe I’d been living my life wrong. Maybe I’d been focusing too much on monetary gains. Loads of people joined the Marines. Most of them join for one reason and one reason only.
Security.
Both for otherworldly planets and Earth. Big old blue is a tough place to live on right now. Jobs have gone down the toilet and industries have collapsed. The only export that Earth offers is protection. Arms. Firepower. So this is why most men decide to join the brotherhood, The Core, the Marines of planet Earth. I on the other hand, along with a few others, joined for the credits. A pension. A future. And just maybe an education. Then there are the others. The few, or at least I hope that they are the few.
The few that joined to kill. The few that like to spill blood. Those men are usually the first to die. If not in the physical form, they usually die spiritually by the end of the tour. Life back on Earth leads many to believe that seeing some action will change a man for the better. But that is not true. All it does is teach a man that change is a lie. And death is everything. So there is no changing. There is just death – yours – or theirs.
“Holy moly,” I heard Spooks say, suddenly everybody stopped where they stood.
With all my thinking, I hadn’t been paying attention to where we were going or where we were headed. But I was paying attention now. We were no longer walking down any dark passages, but now, now we were out in the open. Not on the surface, but in some sort of big underground open space, where the ceiling was high, and the natural entombment of the rocks around us was making me feel claustrophobic.
But it wasn’t the natural forming room that had made us stop and stare in awe, but it was what the room was filled with. Piles and piles of gold, ruby, sapphire and other precious stones. Stacked to the ceiling, glowing ever so slightly in the dim light coming from our spacesuits. Neither of us spoke for a moment or two – the glittering brilliance of the loot in front of us had caught our tongues and tied it into as many knots as there were carrots.
“Where the hell did all this come from?” One of the men asked, I didn’t recognise his voice, but the man sounded young. Maybe as young as me. Possibly even younger.
“Isn’t it obvious where all of this came from? The Tribeca planet is teeming with treasures so rich that many other planets in its vicinity have become envious of the fertile land. This is why the pirates are here. Surely I don’t need to spell this out for you?” Spooks said, acting as if he wasn’t taken aback by the beauty in front of him. If he was, he was doing a great job covering it up. He began to move on forward, ignoring the piles of gold around him and signalled us to do the same.
Most of us did exactly as he’d asked, but two or three of the people in front of me, right in the back, started to grab some of the rich resources and shoved them into their backpacks. I noticed it and so did the others. But the Marine code is the Marine code, and one of the number one rules in our fraternity is simple, yet set in stone, and that is that every man looks after each other, looks past their transgressions and supports them whenever need be. I was in two minds, and so were a lot of the men that had seen the other three looting the gold, but the Marine Corps is more than just killing, it is a union of brothers, and brothers don’t tattletale.
They were quick about it, and weren’t too greedy, but they had taken a few milliseconds too long. Spooks had spotted the transgression as he’d looked back for a moment or two. Suddenly, everybody had stopped moving. Everybody was motionless. Everybody but the three men cherry picking the precious metals. They only noticed Spooks looking at them when they realized that the squad was stationary. And every Marine knew that a rolling squad - a squad in the midst of moving during a mission - only stopped for an emergency. So knowing them, they probably thought that an attack was imminent, but unfortunately, the only attack they would be facing was the barrage of curse words that were about to leave Spooks’ mouth.
“What the hell is this? I cannot be seeing what I am seeing right now, can I? Are my men that dumb that they would steal from their very own employers? The people – the aliens �
�� that are financing this mission? Are you three that dumb?” Spooks heckled from the front, beginning to make his way toward the men at the back hoarding the loot.
Two of them tried to lose a few bars, but the purge of gold wasn’t so subtle. A large clanging sound rattled through the eerie open-spaced rocky room. Spooks wasn’t done, he cottoned on to the quick drops and gained pace toward the two offenders. He cocked his fist back and was about to give one of them a wallop when a strange howl behind him stopped him in his tracks.
“Contact!” Somebody shouted, making all of us draw our weapons simultaneously, aiming down the sights toward the direction of the howl.
“I’ll deal with you three later on, believe that!” Spooks said, now his voice coming through the radio, back at the front, leading the pack toward the suspicious sound. He too had his gun drawn, and was aiming it like a professional, swooping every inch of space, scanning it and analysing it, ready to fill the perpetrator of the howl with a few tonnes of lead.
“There it is again! Two o’clock, it’s coming in fast!” Somebody else said, all of our guns swishing to two o’clock in one confident motion. We were well trained and well rehearsed, like a ballerina at the ball, extending her reach, pivoting at the right moments and finishing off with a strong statement.
Fighting, combat, they were both like dancing. Sure, you could fight on your own, beat yourself up, fight yourself even, but it usually took two to tango. And we were all about to do the tango.
“There! Right there, in the shadows!” Somebody shouted. We all had our fingers on the trigger, hovering like professionals, neither of us had let off a premature round yet. We were a true machine, a well-oiled machine, ready to take whatever was in front of us out permanently.
But, suddenly, the dynamics had shifted. The perpetrator was visible, and the howling was not coming from a beast, nor was it coming from a predator, but it was coming from something completely different. It was coming from a native. A banged up and beaten up native. One of Tribeca’s very own inhabitants. God knows how the insect-like creature had gotten into the mineshaft, especially since it was teaming with reptilian pirates earlier, but – it was here – and now, it was our responsibility.
We all holstered our weapons, trying to avoid any intergalactic consequences, the last thing we wanted to do was anger the natives of the planet – the very beings paying us to be here – Marines were smart, and shooting the mouth that feeds you was not in your best interest. Spooks was now beside the howling native, trying to comfort it, grabbing at his first aid kit and taking out a bandage.
He started to dab the native with the cotton from the bandage, wiping blood, or at least I thought it was blood, off its bulbous cheeks. The native stopped howling and looked up at Spooks, its eyes were round and hollow with fear, a slight air of condensation wrapped itself around its large pupils. But, as if at the flick of a switch, the native stood up and embraced Spooks. We were all taken aback by the creature, not many of us had seen the natives before, and for some of us – me especially – this was the first time I’d seen a peace loving alien.
“I’m so glad to see you, they had me tied up, beat me within an inch of my life, and for what? They had all the gold they wanted, but they insisted on having me as well! If it wasn’t for you, or your men, then they would still be here, for that I am sure. So I’m grateful to you, human, and your friends, for saving me and my people. I saw them running from you, like cowards. You sure took it to them, and for that I thank you!” The native said, still embracing Spooks, the rest of us watching on with smiles on our faces.
It isn’t often that a Marine will allow his emotions to show. His true emotions that is. But I can safely say that upon setting eyes on the native, a little bit of hope crept into my hopeless soul. And not only that, but I remembered what I was fighting for. I remembered that there was good out here in the universe, deep in the bowels of space. But since landing on the Tribeca planet, all I’d seen was carnage and destruction. So it was nice to see what this war was all for. I hoped that the rest of them, the rest of the natives, appreciated our sacrifice as much as this one did.
“They had you as a hostage? You say you saw them run away from us?” Spooks asked, putting a gentle arm around the smaller, yet wider, insect-like native. I don’t quite know how to describe it, I’ve never seen anything like it before, but the best I can offer is a beetle-like being, with a round head, and sticklike arms. It was a very strange creature indeed, but not one inch of it screamed predator, no, these things were obviously intelligent. It looked like it wouldn’t be out of place wearing a pair of spectacles and reading a book, as absurd as that sounds!
“Yes, there were many of them in here, they are the ones that piled all of the gold and rubies up. I assume that they were planning on taking them out through the back, right down there, there’s a ramp, leading up to the surface. I even asked one of the reptilians how he would manage to drag such heavy materials up the ramp, and it shrugged and told me to wait and see. He told me that they were not stupid, and as much as we would like to think they are, they are not. They would not enter a planet by force without the right equipment. He assured me that they had the right equipment,” the native said, looking up at Spooks with bulbous eyes filled with fear.
Just the mention of the reptilians seemed to drive this particular creature to the edge, hairs on its hardened body stood on end as it recalled what the pirates had said to it. I looked at one of my squad mates and shrugged my shoulders. I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing. I couldn’t quite believe the humanity bubbling within the inside of this alien creature. It definitely warmed my heart.
“Okay, you’re safe now, we are here for you and your people. There’s plenty of us, so just get in the middle, and will get you out of here. We’ll be taking the ramp to the surface, and whatever gets in our way, we’ll deal with it,” Spooks said.
The native frowned, its eyes still filled with fear.
“What do you mean up there? You can’t possibly think that is a good idea? They are up there! And they will kill us!” The native said, flailing its arms around as it spoke, which I must admit looked quite amusing.
“Don’t worry, we’ve been bombing the surface, and I’m pretty sure there won’t be many left up there. And if there are stragglers, we’re all pretty well-armed. That guy over there could bomb the hair off a fly!” Spooks said, pointing at me. I couldn’t help but smile. I’m a blusher, what can I say!
The native seemed to calm down a little. He looked at me and then at Spooks. Seconds later, his eyes trailed back to the men standing behind him. He nodded his round head and turned back to Spooks.
“Okay, have it your way. But if I’m going with you, I’m going to the back. When those pirates see you and start opening fire, I want to be the last one to die,” the native said, waddling toward me and away from Spooks.
We all suppressed the urge to burst out laughing. This thing was clever, and realized that being in the back was probably the safest option when it came to combat. We were unlikely to be flanked from the back anyhow, seeing that we’d dealt with the pirates in the quarry and in the mineshaft. So the only way was forward. Into the unknown and into danger. But hopefully Spooks was right and the bombing campaign had been successful.
We were lucky, we could just waltz right into a pick up, get back onto the dropship and fly away to safety. But, as I said, everybody’s luck has to run out.
“Okay ladies, follow me, not too far to go now!” Spooks said, rallying us back into action.
And action was certainly the best word to describe what happened next.
Chapter Three
Heading to the surface, Tribeca planet
As we got closer to the surface, the shadows around us started to become illuminated by the light. The darkness that once surrounded us was no more. For some reason, I was starting to feel better. Less scared. But I still couldn't shake the fact that we were far behind enemy lines – lines that went deeper and further
than I’d ever expected. I was still breathing and so were the majority of the men that were deployed with me. So this was a success. At least that's how I saw it.
Yes, some men had lost their lives. But, we were advancing on the enemy. In fact, we were taking the enemy out. Many of them had succumbed to our firepower. But now, now was when the fun and games would begin. I knew that this wasn’t over. The native was right. There were many more of them. Many more on the surface. But, I hoped that the bombing runs had destroyed the majority of them. I hoped beyond hope that we could get to safety, and get off this planet.
But hope is a dangerous thing. And it's usually wasted. Wasted on a skewed reality. A reality that only exists in the background. A background that is filled with fantastical beings. Religious symbols. Humanities watchers in the sky. For Hope is a religion. And it is a religion that I try to stay away from. But, even in the toughest of situations, hope tends to rear its beautiful, yet ugly head. But where there is hope, there is desperation. And desperation breeds despair. Unfortunately, I was right, this was far from over. It had only just begun.
"Gentleman, this is it, up the slope lies our freedom. A freedom that every single one of you has fought for so courageously. And now it all pays off. Once we are up the slope, I'll contact HQ and get a dropship to our rendezvous point. And then gentleman we get off this rock and celebrate with a few beers on deck. Sound good to you?" Spooks said, giving us the thumbs up while signalling us to bear arms and lock and load.
Most of the men in the group were dog-tired, but the mere mention of an alcoholic beverage and a rest roused them from their stupor. And I admit, it brought a smile to my face. Just the thought of a cold beer running down my throat made me grin like a five-year-old on Christmas Eve. After everything that happened, after all the bloodshed, we were finally on the home stretch. A homestretch that we had battled for. A homestretch that was laid with the blood, the spilt blood of our comrades. The road to victory had been a hard fought one. I had never imagined that I would survive such a tour.
Dropship One Page 6
