Corneria's Corps ch 2
Chapter two. This was significantly longer than the last chapter.
Corneria's Corps
Chapter 2- Battle for Katina Outpost
05:30. We were woken up by revellie. It took me a second to realize my dick was still out. "Whoops," I muttered. I tucked it back into my underwear, put on an undershirt, tucked it into my trousers, and put on my CORMARPAT blouse.
Once dressed, I left my tent and headed to the "mess hall." "Morning, PFC," my squad leader said as I approached the eating area.
"Good morning, corporal," I responded.
"How are you?"
"Fine. You?"
"Same."
"That's good," I replied, then headed off to get some chow.
The line was long. Very long. "Motherfucker," I muttered. "I'm never going to get fucking chow."
Unfortunately, I was right. Well, for breakfast anyway. Suddenly, overhead, a squadron of Venomian fighter craft flew by. "This is not a drill," screamed Col. Boxter, Camp Maten's commanding officer. "Air craft inbound to Katina outpost! Satellites show ground forces inbound as well. Let's hit it, Marines! Lock n' load!"
"Son of a bitch," I said aloud. "No chow, I guess."
I double-timed to the armory and grabbed my blaster. I jogged to the motor pool, mounted up on one of our recon/assault vehicles, and waited to head to the outpost 5 klicks north. "Alright, gents," our driver, GySgt. Tyson said. "Let's roll out." He paused and said. "PFC. Semper, where the fuck are your flak and kevlar?"
"Fuck," I replied. "In my tent, gunnery sergeant."
"We'll pull up to your tent. Get the fuck out, get armored up in a heartbeat, and mount back up."
"Aye aye, gunny."
We pulled up to my tent and I dismounted the vehicle and ran into my tent. I threw on my flak quickly, making sure it provided ample protection, and put my kevlar on. I pulled my goggles down and put them over my eyes. I left the tent and mounted the truck.
"You good, Semper," the gunny asked.
"Good as I'll ever be, gunny," I replied.
"Then let's fucking go."
The trip to the Katina outpost was short. The gunny had the pedal to the metal, and all that was behind us was a cloud of dust. "We're going to fucking die," I mumbled.
"Secure the bellyaching," Sgt. Peredez said.
"Aye aye, sergeant," I said. I remained silent the rest of the way there.
"We have a Land Master division en route to the outpost," GySgt. Tyson informed us.
"Oorah," replied Cpl. Rain.
The ride ended. We were right outside the outpost gates. We dismounted and entered the battlefield. It looked like Hell's gates broke open and released a beast.
Suddenly, a bomb dropped and landed about 100 meters from us. "GET TO COVER," the gunny shouted.
"I had to be fucking infantry..." I thought as I ran into a sleeping barracks. Wrong place to hide from the aircrafts' bombs. There were three Venomian soldiers in the barracks executing captured Marines and soldiers. One of them saw me and turned to face me. "Am I interrupting," I asked sarcastically, lifting my blaster to fire.
"Kill him," the one facing me said. The other two lifted their weapons and aimed them in my direction. I charged my blaster for about a second and took the first bastard's head off. I booked it behind a wall locker to take cover and began to charge my blaster again. After five seconds, it was fully charged. There would be nothing left of this bastard when this hit him. I put the weapon on safe and peeked around the corner. Nothing. I checked the other way and saw him coming toward me. I took the weapon off safe and rounded the corner.
As I aimed at the hostile, I heard the sound of an old-fashioned weapon that fired metal rounds. I hesitated, thoughts of that Marine's possible family rushing to my mind. Another mistake. The bastard attempted a shot at my chest. It would have killed me if it weren't for my armor. I flinched, recovered, and resumed aiming. Luckily, he had a bolt-action rifle. "My turn," I snickered. I released the trigger, and all I saw next was a pink mist where he stood.
"Now for the oth-" I was attacked from the back by the commander of the three bastards. He tried to stab me with his knife. Luckily, instinct and my MCMAP training kicked in. Quickly, I disarmed him and had him pinned to the deck.
"Go ahead," he said as he spat in my face. "Do it. It won't bring them back."
"Who said anything about bringing those Marines and soldiers back," I asked. "This is simply vengeance." With that, I thrust the knife into his mouth, and out the back of his head it came. And there it stayed. Quickly, I ran to the remaining POWs. "Are you alright," I asked the blindfolded troops. "I'm PFC. Semper, I'm a Cornerian Marine. Those Venomians are dead." I cut the troops loose and they took off their blindfolds.
"Thank you, private first class," one of the Marines, a staff sergeant, said.
"No problem, staff sergeant. I need to get back out into the fight. My squad's out there. I will NOT leave them to fight alone." I took my leave and headed back out into combat. As I ran out, the division of Land Masters the gunny was talking about hovered over the outpost's wall. I snickered. "You Venomians are fucked."
"Good news to all Marines at the Katina outpost," Gen. Pepper, the commandant of the Corps said via the in-helmet radios we all had. "The StarFox team is on their way to lend a hand."
"Halle-fucking-lujah," I whispered. "More help. The fuckers are dead."
In a matter if seconds, the roar of Cornerian dreadnought-class battle cruiser engines drowned the sounds of combat. Dreadnoughts a had be decommissioned years ago, so I knew it must be StarFox. I took the opportunity the arrival of the ship offered and resumed to kill the enemy while they looked at the arrival of our new ally.
Unfortunately, that didn't last forever. After a couple seconds, the Venomians had their fill if the spectacle and returned to the fight. I dove under a fragment of wall that had been blown from a nearby barracks. A grenade landed right next to me. I was about to take my kevlar off when I realized that it was indicator trimming was pulsing blue, not red. I picked it up and, as it turned purple, indicating an explosion soon, I threw it back at the fuckers. "Son of a-" was all I heard before the grenade went off.
I looked around and noticed one of the Marines pinned down, looking at a photograph and mumbling something. "Fuck it," I said and ran like hell to his position, diving into cover. "Hey, bro," I said, realizing it was another private first class from my unit.
"I'm going to fucking die here, man," he said.
"No you fucking aren't, bro. You're going to get back home. Who's that in the picture?"
"My boyfriend," he said.
"Never knew you were gay."
"There a problem with that?"
"None at all. Let's get you out if this position. The only useless Marine is a dead Marine."
I looked over the cover and immediately, a round struck me in the head. If it weren't for my kevlar, I would have went KIA. "FUCK," I shouted. "FFFFFUCK!"
"Dammit," the PFC yelled. "I'm going to get you out of here, man!" He dragged me to a point of cover high enough to stand and lifted me in a fireman's carry. "It's been good fighting alongside you in this hellhole," he said. "FFFFUUUUUCK!" He ran out from behind cover and made it to another safe haven.
"Set him down," I heard an accented female voice say. I was confused; we didn't have any female troops at the outpost. I looked up and saw who it was. It was a blue vixen. Everyone knew the members of the StarFox mercenary team; they were famous on just about every planet in the Lylat. It was Krystal, the teams only female mercenary, and the team leader, Fox's girlfriend. "Let me look at him."
"I'm going to set you down, bud," the Marine carrying me said as he lowered me to the sand.
"Ungh," I groaned in pain.
"I'm sorry about this," Krystal said. As I was about to ask what she was sorry for, she began to unclip my kevlar and remove it.
"Agh," I screamed in pain. The round that hit my kevlar dented it and pushed it slightly into my head. As Krystal pulled it off, it sliced my head open. Blood began flowing.
"Fox," she called. "Get over here!"
"What is it, Krystal," Fox asked, running to our position.
"His head."
"How did this happen, Marine," Fox asked me.
"I was shot in my kevlar," I began. "This devil dog ran me over here. She pulled my kevlar off, and, since it was dented into my head, it sliced it open."
"We're going to get you help. Slippy, get down here with a med kit."
After what felt like an eternity, I saw an Arwing hover down to the ground and land. A frog hopped out carrying a coyote-tan backpack. He ran over to our position. "Here's that med kit," he said. "Let me fix you up."
"I don't need it," Fox said. "He does."
"Alright. Let me fix YOU up then, devil dog." He pulled out a syringe and stuck it in my arm. "This is just morphine," he said. "You won't feel a thing." He proceeded to stitch my head up. After, he wrapped gauze around my head.
"Where's your IFAK, Marine," Fox asked.
"Right...here..." I stumbled over my words as I felt where my IFAK used to be. "Where the hell did it go?" I thought back to the start of the battle. What could have knocked it off? Then it hit me; the bomb when we first got there. Some shrapnel reached us, even from that far. It was believable a piece barely missed me and severed the straps securing the IFAK to my flak jacket.
"There," Slippy said. "You're all fixed up." Overhead, Venomiam fighters were dropping like rocks. "Show-off."
I picked up my kevlar and found out where the dent was. I pulled out a small hammer I always kept in my flak jacket and pounded it outward. "I still plan to fight," I said as I put it on. "My buddy here got me to safety. It's only right I should keep his life safe, too."
Without waiting for approval or objection, I ran from that cover and quickly found another. I was glad my blaster was on a sling. I began to engage a group of hostiles. They turned to me and opened fire. They kept missing. Only one round made impact, and that was in my leg. I didn't even feel it; I was under the influence of morphine. "Fuck you," I muttered. I ducked, primed a grenade, waited for it to pulse purple, and lobbed it into the group. "Eat that, fuckers!" The grenade went off, killing the entire group.
I began to notice that combat had died down a lot. Then it struck me: the Venomians were either dead, abandoned by their comrades, or retreating. Slowly, the morphine started to wear off. I knew that when the pain cam back, I'd black out from it. "Marine," I called to the PFC that saved my ass. "What's your name?"
"PFC. Ranning," he replied.
"Thanks for saving my ass," I said. Then I blacked out.