Chapter 9

The room I was assigned as guest quarters aboard the ship was towards the aft section, above the reactor core compartment, and just off of the aft mess hall. Iridian ships were always about form over function and this was no exception. I looked at my quarters with a soft sigh, I could finally relax and take count of my situation, and plan my next course of action. I look to the foot of the bed and find a footlocker. Inside is all of the gear they found next to my Cryochamber. My guns, vest, outfit, and ammunition. I dig into my vest pockets and find a gold locket with platinum-gilded engravings as well as an old note with some dried blood on it. Sighing in relief, I slipped the bauble into my cleavage before flopping onto the bed to think.

The last few hours have been swirling around in my head, my mind piecing it all together. It was a relief that I managed to get at least somewhat lucky, but the universe decided my luck had to run out eventually in some fashion. All that remained was to see how I can extract an ally from this set of circumstances. They showed great trust in me by giving me my weapons, so it was clear they had a baseline to give me said trust. I need allies, so my first step should be to try to work with them. Assassinating the high matron was not a big deal, but I need to speak with Matron Farsa first. It was clear she is in charge around here.

After all of these thoughts pass through my conscious, I decide it is time I get some rest to let my mind go over it in my subconscious. As I lay down and close my eyes, the hum of the ship's reactor lulls my consciousness to sleep with the quiet humming below me. The tiny vibrations only helped coax me to slumber.

******

I open my eyes to a dull roar from an object going supersonic over my head, and I find myself on a battlefield of mud and rubble. Tracer fire creates ominous light shows in the sky as the soft glow of fires in the distance rage. 'Am I reliving an old memory? Wait, I know this place!' I look up just in time to see an explosion next to me and several bodies of men flying in several directions, with a smear of blood hitting my cheek, and a limb landing about a meter to my left.

I stand from my prone position and run. I run until my legs cannot take me further. I pass plume after plume of mud and debris, and a building 100 meters away from me suddenly teeters and falls toward me. I look up and see the large pieces of rubble about the size of busses falling atop my position, and I lunge to the side to avoid one large piece the size of a car. I stand after a moment of laying on my chest with my head covered, only getting up when the debris stops falling around me, and I keep running. I do not know where I am going, but this feels vaguely like an old memory.

Gunfire and explosions rattle and boom around me as I keep sprinting, eventually sliding into a dugout. Upon which a few figures with masks concealing their face and combat helmets on their heads wheel around to stare at me before I take action, drawing my sidearm, and finishing one with two shots. One through his chest, the other through his head. He slumps over, falling into the mud like a puppet with the strings cut. His battle buddy grapples with me, and I struggle with him for my own handgun as he pushes me back into the wall of the dugout into a metal plate bulwark on the trench wall.

I use my foot and hook it behind his calf, and shift my weight over, bringing us both to the floor, I feel the splash of cold, watery mud soil my outfit, and I manage to pin him to the ground using my legs with his head locked between them. Facing the direction I felt two more potentially hostile bodies heading my way. They round the corner, wearing slightly different outfits. One is a tall male in his middle 30s and the other is a petite female in her late 20s.

They stop, point their rifles at us, and lower them on seeing me. I direct the muzzle of my sidearm at my opponent's head and pull the trigger. The bullet penetrates his helmet and enters his skull before coming out the other side, exiting through his skullcap and the back of his helmet with a hole larger than the entry hole. After the round impacts the metal bulwark, the two figures relax and I move the limp body off of me. The male offers me a hand "Jesus Kara, you scared the shit out of us."

I take his hand, and with a firm grip they help me up. I find myself speaking on my own "thanks Jacko, where are the others?" Jacko lowers his head and shakes it "they did not make it. Cut down by a Feddy machine gun nest 2 blocks over." I nod imperceptibly and sigh "I guess it is up to the three of us. 'Becca? You broken?" the shorter woman shakes her head "neg. All good. You look like shit." I smirk "yeah, but one kill for me. Sorry I couldn't save you any." I glance at the bodies behind me.

"We're about 500 meters from their forward observation post that is directing their artillery. If you want to follow me, I am going to clear it. Jacko!" Jacko perks up at his name "Yes Ma'am?" I crinkle my nose "find any ammunition or weapons we can use, preferably grenades and explosives. 'Becca!!" Becca finally removes her helmet after fiddling with it. "Kara." I sigh at the lax professionalism "put your helmet back on! We're in a hot zone and a lone sniper can-" just as I start admonishing the corporal, a bullet hits the petite woman in the forehead and a crack of the supersonic projectile rings in my ears. The bullet strikes the wall of the trench and Becca falls dead, her brain completely scrambled by the single bullet, creating a smear on the bulwark.

Jacko and I duck for cover, and I motion for my rifle laying on the ground nearby. Through my tinnitus, I can hear a voice. Jacko calling to 'Becca. I yell "BECCA IS DEAD JACKO! LEAVE HER! We need to get out of the open or we're both dead! Move your ass!!" we both stand and immediately sprint towards the bunker I emerged from and take shelter. Bullets sail past us, some barely miss me, and others are far off the mark. One hits Jacko in the leg and the man falls into a puddle of muddy water. He screams "AGH FUCK! FEDDY SONS OF BITCHES!" I double back and start to help Jacko up..

Another bullet hits him in the back before we make it inside the nearby pillbox. Jacko's breath is ragged and labored from fluid in his lungs. And he coughs up a bit of bloody saliva "hey, listen. You tell my mom I love them." I turn to look at Jacko as I scrounge for a medkit. "You'll be fine Jacko! You always pull through! Don't quit on me now!" he takes another watery-sounding breath "Nah kid, I'm finished. Can feel it in my bones. Here…" Jacko offers me a hand, which I take after dropping the medical kit. "Just Remember, this war? It will kill us all if we do not stop shooting each other. Heh… Heh heh… heh." Jack laughed at his own brand of humor. Even on death's door, he has the humor to share.

I felt a tear roll down my cheek. "Aw come on kid, don't go soft on me now. Listen. You survive this. For my sake. 'Kay? Do whatever it takes, but you just survive! If you die now I will haunt you in whatever life lies beyond here. Look in my pockets, you'll find a locket and a note. Take them. They are yours. And.." he groans, his words becoming more and more labored. "don't.. Forget about me.." with these final words, his hand goes limp in mine, and he stops moving." I shut his eyelids and rip his dog tags away from his neck as the tears start to come…

I look at the dog tags as a voice calls "Kara…! Kara…! KARA!!"