Corneria's Corps chapter 3
Chapter 3 of my war story.
Corneria's Corps
Chapter 3: Homeward bound
I awoke in some sort of sick bay. "Ugh," I groaned. "Where the hell am I?"
"Take it easy, PFC," I heard a voice say to me. "The drugs we have you on haven't worn off. We don't want you moving too quickly and passing the fuck back out because the drugs are still active."
"Ugh." I began to feel sick. I leaned over the side of the hospital bed I was laying on and vomited.
"That tends to happen."
I turned my head, slowly, to see who was talking to me. It was a Navy corpsman. He was a seaman, the equivalent to our lance corporal. "The drugs should wear off in a couple minutes. Just take things easy."
"What the fuck happened to me," I asked.
"Well, to put thus in comical terms: you got knocked the fuck out." There was a ding on a machine that was hooked up to my body. "Ok, the meds have worn off. Take things easy, though. You'll be on light duty for the rest of the day." I nodded, got up, and left the sick bay. I walked outside to see two lance corporals and a PFC picking on the Marine that saved my ass.
"Fag," I heard one lance corporal bellow and laugh.
"Shut the hell up, fucker," I retaliated for PFC Ranning. The Marine turned to face me.
"So," he said. "Why's a PFC telling a lance what to do?"
"You an NCO, bitch? No. You're a junior Marine like me."
"Yeah, but I still hold rank over you."
"By one. All you've got on me is a pair of crossed earth weapons."
"What the fuck is going on over here," the company 1stSgt bellowed.
"Nothing, 1st sergeant," PFC Ranning replied.
"Bullshit...you know what, not going to deal with it."
"Come with me, Ranning," I said. "Let's get away from these guys." He followed me to the bases e-club. "Thanks for saving my ass on the battlefield."
"Never leave a man behind."
I nodded.
"Attention, 'Hotel' Company," a voice blared over the base's intercom. "All platoons in Company H will be rotated back to Corneria."
"Home...," I thought aloud. "We're heading home."
"When the fuck do we need to be ready," Ranning asked to nobody in particular.
"All Marines from Company 'H' will be ready by 13:00," the CO concluded. I looked at my watch.
"It's 09:00," I said. "Let's get a coke or something then get packed to go."
"Oorah."
I walked out of my tent, bag packed and ready to go. I began the five minute journey to the airfield. "Semper," I heard a voice call from behind me. I turned to see who it was. It was Ranning. "Can I walk with you?"
"Why the fuck not?"
"I get to go home. I get to see him."
"Your boyfriend?"
"Yeah."
"Nice."
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The vessels taking us back home were CV-20 SkyHawks. There were four, each if which could fit a platoon. That was enough for Company "H".
"Throw your shit in the cargo bay and climb aboard,"one of the pilots said.
"Aye, aye, sir," we replied.
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The SkyHawk was spacious enough; I had room to stretch my legs a little. "We have reached our cruising altitude," our pilot, a Marine captain joked over the speakers. "Feel free to use your electronic devices and seatback trays."
"Aye, aye, sir," one Marine joked back.
"Dumbass," I snickered. He thought Ranning said it.
"Shut it, fag!" I unbuckled my safety harness and stood up.
"The fuck you just call him, lance corporal," I said, fuming.
"Both of you, shut the fuck up," our squad leader shouted at us. "Semper, sit the fuck down."
"Aye, aye, corporal," I replied through gritted teeth, staring the lance corporal down. As I sat, I flipped the lance corporal the bird.
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I awoke in the dropship. "We are entering Corneria's atmosphere," the captain said. I rejoiced in my head; that didn't last long. A warning light flashed in the SkyHawk's passenger cabin. "Fuck! Brace yourselves; we have a pair of VM-46 Cobra strike missiles locked on to us. Where the hell did they come from?" The question was quickly answered. Looking out the back hatch of the SkyHawk- the hatch was made out of explosive-proof glass- I saw a Venomian battle cruiser seem to materialize.
"They were cloaked," I thought
aloud. "Bastards."
"Brace! Brace! Brace! Impact in t-minus 5...4...3...2...1..." The first missile made impact with the armor of the SkyHawk. The second followed shortly behind it. "Mayday, mayday," the pilot said over his comms radio. "This is Cap. Miller, Cornerian Marine Corps. SkyHawk 015 is hit and is going down! We are accelerating toward the surface of Corneria. Requesting backup to help once we are on the ground. This goes out to all Cornerian forces."
"We won't get any help," I thought. "They'll just politely tell us, 'fuck you.'" I wasn't afraid. I didn't know if I was going to die, but, I wasn't afraid. I just reached for my blaster and spoke aloud: "time to kill some motherfuckers."
"Brace," the captain said again. "Impact with the surface in t-minus 10!" I grabbed the impact brace next to my seat and prepared myself. "5...4...3...2...1..." We collided with the ground. I was disoriented, but more or less alive. Suddenly, I felt like I was going to be sick. Then I remembered: I was on light duty. It was probably because my body needed to recover. This wasn't helping.
"Is everyone ok," our gunny asked. I didn't reply; I felt too noxious. "Semper, are you ok?" I couldn't hold it in anymore; I vomited. "Marine?" I pulled out a sick bay slip that classified me as light duty. "You didn't inform me, Semper," he scolded.
"No, gunnery sergeant."
"Why the fuck not?"
"He was getting me away from a group of assholes who we're picking on me, gunny," PFC Ranning vouched.
"Priorities still dictate that you were supposed to inform me of your medical status."
"Aye, aye, gunnery sergeant," I replied. I began to get dizzy. I fell and hit the deck. I tried to stand but couldn't. "I need to rest, gunny," I managed to say. "I'm too goddamn dizzy to stand."
"Very well, Marine. You have a fucking hour."
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My hour was up. It was time to move. I had to be extremely careful on the move; I couldn't fight.