Ok. When that :)
Fireteam Glory
Wed Apr 28, 2021 1:30 am
Fireteam Glory Part 140
By the time Parvisal and Booth had reached the fight, it had begun to turn in the favor of Kip’s people. Calvin, a police officer with a lean but athletic body, had gotten Cass’s arm pinned behind her back and was holding her there. Santos was barely holding his own against Kip and Jarvis, with Nelson standing hesitantly off to the side of the fight. Jarvis landed a powerful blow to Santos’s shoulder, knocking him off balance and making an opening for Kip to slam him into the mud. Just as he did that, Booth launched herself into Jarvis’s chest with a flying kick. The sudden attack caught Jarvis off-guard and sent him tumbling to the ground. Booth landed on her hands and knees, wasting little time rushing Kip after touching down. He didn’t have time to react to her fist finding its spot firmly in his gut. He coughed and let out a quiet wheeze as he fell to his knees, face-first into the mud. Moving to where Santos was laying in the mud, Booth helped him stand up. His face was coated in mud, which he quickly tried to wipe out of his eyes.
“Thanks.” Santos said, blinking a few times to clear his vision. “I’m getting real sick of all this nonsense.”
Booth nodded in agreement. “Let’s work on pacifying Kip and the others. Oh, and go easy on Kip. I think his injury was a lot more serious than we thought. Probably shouldn’t have even punched him like that, but in the moment I really just needed him out of commission.”
Santos looked over at where Jarvis and Kip were laying, the first of which was now getting up. “Got it! Don’t rough up Kip, but make sure soldier boy stays down. What about Cass?”
Booth quickly glanced at where Cass and Parvisal were finishing with making sure Calvin wouldn’t be anymore trouble, having rendered him unconscious for the moment. “I think they’ve got it.”
By now, Kip had also begun to stand up. “You two… you sided with that coward! You… you…” He was slurring his words now, and Booth noticed that he was beginning to shake pretty bad. “I won’t die for some… some… you all are…” Before he could finish, Kip collapsed to the ground.
Booth quickly ran over to the pilot and rolled him so that he was facing upwards. He was breathing heavily, like he was completely exhausted. She opened his eyes and saw how one of his pupils was severely dilated compared to the other. Cursing softly, she quickly called for Teresa to come over.
Having stopped her nose from bleeding, Teresa was quickly at Booth’s side. She saw Kip’s eyes and his condition and knew immediately what was wrong. “The aggression he’s been displaying, the headaches, suddenly passing out. Should’ve caught this earlier, but I was too busy moping.” She had Booth situate herself so that Kip’s head and shoulders were slightly elevated. “He’s likely suffered some kind of brain injury. I need to make sure he doesn’t start breathing irregularly and that he gets rest. That’s all I can do without any kind of medicine. Something like chorotazine would be useful right now, but for the moment I just need him to rest.” She undid her armor and removed her BDU’s shirt, leaving her with the shirt she wore underneath it. She bundled it up to make a support for Kip’s head and let Booth move so she could set his head down on it. “This’ll have to make due until I can get a better treatment for him.” Sighing heavily, Teresa looked up at the rest of her fellow prisoners.
Calvin had been taken out of the fight quickly and Parvisal was making sure Cass wasn’t hurt. Santos had managed to subdue Jarvis, holding him pinned to the ground as Jarvis attempted to fight back.
“Say uncle.” Santos said jokingly. “Or I’ll have to keep you pinned here!”
Jarvis struggled a bit more, but eventually gave in.
“That’s what I thought.” Santos said with a hint of satisfaction. “Now I’m gonna let you get up, so don’t make me regret that.” He freed Jarvis and stood up.
“Good work, Santos.” Booth remarked. “Thought I would’ve had to step in again to bail you out.”
Santos smirked. “Nah, I had them on the ropes before you got involved. I was luring them in.” He chuckled to himself a little. “Nice kick by the way.”
Teresa looked up to Santos. “Did you break anything, either yours or his?” She gestured at Jarvis, who was picking himself up out of the mud.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Jarvis said angrily. Teresa began walking over to check Jarvis for any injuries, but he stopped her with a grimace. “I said I’m fine.”
Parvisal and Cass, carrying the unconscious Calvin, approached the group. They set Calvin down next to Kip and joined the conversation.
“He should be alright,” Cass said as she pointed at Calvin, “he’ll wake up in a little while.” She looked at Kip. “That bad, huh?”
Teresa nodded. “I’m going to keep him like that. We can’t do anything with him until I can treat his injury and move him safely. If he doesn’t wake up within a few days, then I’ll really be worried. If he goes into a coma because of a severe injury, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to do for him.”
Cass rubbed her shoulder as it began to ache a little. “Without medicine, I guess that will have to do.”
By this time, the Brute pack had finally returned. Teresa hadn’t realized how long it had been, but the sun was now almost at the highest point in the sky. Cass, Parvisal, Booth, and Santos all moved to watch the returning aliens. They were whooping and hollering, surrounding the Chieftain, whose helmet crest they could barely see above the crowd, as they spread out and returned to their posts.
“Look at the ones that have stayed with the Chieftain.” Cass said as she pointed at them. “Armor’s just like the Brutes that ambushed us at the base, seems like they’re his personal guards.”
Santos gulped, then seemed like he was going to be sick. “Looks like they caught whoever it was that they sent into the jungle.”
From Santos’s words, everyone began to notice the carnage the Chieftain and his guards were covered in. The Chieftain was even holding something in its massive hand, and while they could all only barely see what it was, they could piece it all together from the glimpse they had. The Brutes had made their dinner, while the Chieftain had taken a trophy from that dinner for himself.
Cass tried to not let the disturbing image shake her too much, refocusing on their situation. “Teresa, we’re going with your plan. With Kip being in no shape to move and many of us rattled from the disputes taking place, breaking out right now would be even more foolish. So, we wait for a potential rescue. If within three days there hasn’t been any sign of an outside rescue or attack, we go back to the original plan.”
Teresa took Kip’s heart rate as she began to speak. “Sounds fair. And if the Brutes come for our pen during those three days, I’ll let them take me first. It's only fair that I go first if I’m going to be responsible for other people’s deaths.”
“No way, Teresa!” Santos shouted. “We need you to make sure people get treated if they’re hurt. I’ll go first if it comes to that!”
Cass interrupted. “No. Neither of you will go. Ivanoff… Richard sacrificed himself to make sure you all lived. I won’t let his sacrifice go to waste by letting one of you die now. I’ll do it, since if I can get away I’ll be able to stay unnoticed and find aid hopefully.”
“Well, I guess that settles it then.” Booth said as she wiped a little bit of mud off of her chest.
By the time Parvisal and Booth had reached the fight, it had begun to turn in the favor of Kip’s people. Calvin, a police officer with a lean but athletic body, had gotten Cass’s arm pinned behind her back and was holding her there. Santos was barely holding his own against Kip and Jarvis, with Nelson standing hesitantly off to the side of the fight. Jarvis landed a powerful blow to Santos’s shoulder, knocking him off balance and making an opening for Kip to slam him into the mud. Just as he did that, Booth launched herself into Jarvis’s chest with a flying kick. The sudden attack caught Jarvis off-guard and sent him tumbling to the ground. Booth landed on her hands and knees, wasting little time rushing Kip after touching down. He didn’t have time to react to her fist finding its spot firmly in his gut. He coughed and let out a quiet wheeze as he fell to his knees, face-first into the mud. Moving to where Santos was laying in the mud, Booth helped him stand up. His face was coated in mud, which he quickly tried to wipe out of his eyes.
“Thanks.” Santos said, blinking a few times to clear his vision. “I’m getting real sick of all this nonsense.”
Booth nodded in agreement. “Let’s work on pacifying Kip and the others. Oh, and go easy on Kip. I think his injury was a lot more serious than we thought. Probably shouldn’t have even punched him like that, but in the moment I really just needed him out of commission.”
Santos looked over at where Jarvis and Kip were laying, the first of which was now getting up. “Got it! Don’t rough up Kip, but make sure soldier boy stays down. What about Cass?”
Booth quickly glanced at where Cass and Parvisal were finishing with making sure Calvin wouldn’t be anymore trouble, having rendered him unconscious for the moment. “I think they’ve got it.”
By now, Kip had also begun to stand up. “You two… you sided with that coward! You… you…” He was slurring his words now, and Booth noticed that he was beginning to shake pretty bad. “I won’t die for some… some… you all are…” Before he could finish, Kip collapsed to the ground.
Booth quickly ran over to the pilot and rolled him so that he was facing upwards. He was breathing heavily, like he was completely exhausted. She opened his eyes and saw how one of his pupils was severely dilated compared to the other. Cursing softly, she quickly called for Teresa to come over.
Having stopped her nose from bleeding, Teresa was quickly at Booth’s side. She saw Kip’s eyes and his condition and knew immediately what was wrong. “The aggression he’s been displaying, the headaches, suddenly passing out. Should’ve caught this earlier, but I was too busy moping.” She had Booth situate herself so that Kip’s head and shoulders were slightly elevated. “He’s likely suffered some kind of brain injury. I need to make sure he doesn’t start breathing irregularly and that he gets rest. That’s all I can do without any kind of medicine. Something like chorotazine would be useful right now, but for the moment I just need him to rest.” She undid her armor and removed her BDU’s shirt, leaving her with the shirt she wore underneath it. She bundled it up to make a support for Kip’s head and let Booth move so she could set his head down on it. “This’ll have to make due until I can get a better treatment for him.” Sighing heavily, Teresa looked up at the rest of her fellow prisoners.
Calvin had been taken out of the fight quickly and Parvisal was making sure Cass wasn’t hurt. Santos had managed to subdue Jarvis, holding him pinned to the ground as Jarvis attempted to fight back.
“Say uncle.” Santos said jokingly. “Or I’ll have to keep you pinned here!”
Jarvis struggled a bit more, but eventually gave in.
“That’s what I thought.” Santos said with a hint of satisfaction. “Now I’m gonna let you get up, so don’t make me regret that.” He freed Jarvis and stood up.
“Good work, Santos.” Booth remarked. “Thought I would’ve had to step in again to bail you out.”
Santos smirked. “Nah, I had them on the ropes before you got involved. I was luring them in.” He chuckled to himself a little. “Nice kick by the way.”
Teresa looked up to Santos. “Did you break anything, either yours or his?” She gestured at Jarvis, who was picking himself up out of the mud.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Jarvis said angrily. Teresa began walking over to check Jarvis for any injuries, but he stopped her with a grimace. “I said I’m fine.”
Parvisal and Cass, carrying the unconscious Calvin, approached the group. They set Calvin down next to Kip and joined the conversation.
“He should be alright,” Cass said as she pointed at Calvin, “he’ll wake up in a little while.” She looked at Kip. “That bad, huh?”
Teresa nodded. “I’m going to keep him like that. We can’t do anything with him until I can treat his injury and move him safely. If he doesn’t wake up within a few days, then I’ll really be worried. If he goes into a coma because of a severe injury, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to do for him.”
Cass rubbed her shoulder as it began to ache a little. “Without medicine, I guess that will have to do.”
By this time, the Brute pack had finally returned. Teresa hadn’t realized how long it had been, but the sun was now almost at the highest point in the sky. Cass, Parvisal, Booth, and Santos all moved to watch the returning aliens. They were whooping and hollering, surrounding the Chieftain, whose helmet crest they could barely see above the crowd, as they spread out and returned to their posts.
“Look at the ones that have stayed with the Chieftain.” Cass said as she pointed at them. “Armor’s just like the Brutes that ambushed us at the base, seems like they’re his personal guards.”
Santos gulped, then seemed like he was going to be sick. “Looks like they caught whoever it was that they sent into the jungle.”
From Santos’s words, everyone began to notice the carnage the Chieftain and his guards were covered in. The Chieftain was even holding something in its massive hand, and while they could all only barely see what it was, they could piece it all together from the glimpse they had. The Brutes had made their dinner, while the Chieftain had taken a trophy from that dinner for himself.
Cass tried to not let the disturbing image shake her too much, refocusing on their situation. “Teresa, we’re going with your plan. With Kip being in no shape to move and many of us rattled from the disputes taking place, breaking out right now would be even more foolish. So, we wait for a potential rescue. If within three days there hasn’t been any sign of an outside rescue or attack, we go back to the original plan.”
Teresa took Kip’s heart rate as she began to speak. “Sounds fair. And if the Brutes come for our pen during those three days, I’ll let them take me first. It's only fair that I go first if I’m going to be responsible for other people’s deaths.”
“No way, Teresa!” Santos shouted. “We need you to make sure people get treated if they’re hurt. I’ll go first if it comes to that!”
Cass interrupted. “No. Neither of you will go. Ivanoff… Richard sacrificed himself to make sure you all lived. I won’t let his sacrifice go to waste by letting one of you die now. I’ll do it, since if I can get away I’ll be able to stay unnoticed and find aid hopefully.”
“Well, I guess that settles it then.” Booth said as she wiped a little bit of mud off of her chest.
Wed Apr 28, 2021 1:32 am
Very light return to form, just trying to get back in the groove of things.
Hopefully it's good but it has been a while since I've done this so it might be a little rusty.
Hopefully it's good but it has been a while since I've done this so it might be a little rusty.
Tue May 04, 2021 12:09 pm
Oh man I have no idea whats going on. Let’s go back and remind myself.
Am I really stiupid or does it go from part 139 to 141?
It might be the former, seeing that I misspelled it :/
Am I really stiupid or does it go from part 139 to 141?
It might be the former, seeing that I misspelled it :/
Tue May 04, 2021 6:47 pm
No I'm the stupid one, thanks for pointing that error out! The document I was writing in was labeled 141 and I forgot I deleted the original 140 to rework it!
Sat May 08, 2021 2:16 am
Fireteam Glory Part 141
All Lawrence remembered was the whine of a plasma grenade as it prepared to detonate and a wave of heat blasting up his left side as he had leapt away in panic. The wave from the blast had slammed him into a rock, leaving his ribs in agony. Luckily, he didn’t think anything was broken.
“And,” he thought to himself as he regained the ability to breathe comfortably, “I’m alive. That’s a big plus.”
Not wanting to waste any more time, Lawrence began sitting up. As he did, he noticed that his left arm was extremely stiff and something smelled like it was burnt.
Lawrence cursed softly. “Looks like I didn’t get out of that explosion unscathed however.” His forearm was a mess of darkened reds and browns, with a texture almost like leather. “Third-degree, up the entire forearm.”
He was shocked that it didn’t hurt at all, but he quickly remembered that it was because the nerves in and around the burn had likely been destroyed. He noticed that his left fingers felt like they were being stabbed by pins while the rest of his hand was numb. This had to be treated, and quickly. Lawrence, careful to not use his injured arm, got to his feet and made his way towards the Pelican. He was beginning to feel dehydrated and slightly weak as he found one of the medical kits on the floor of the troop bay. Opening it, he quickly surveyed the medicines and tried to work out how he could treat a burn as bad as this. He knew how to use a medical kit to deal with smaller injuries, but this was entirely out of his league.
“C’mon, think.” He began running everything through his mind, trying to connect the dots.
He took out a packet of antiseptic wound dressings and biofoam. Inside of the kit there was also a device that he recognized as a sterile field generator.
“Infection will be one of the big problems with this,” he said to himself as he looked at the disgusting mess that was his arm, “better make sure it’s disinfected before treating it.” He fiddled with the generator for a second before it switched on, bathing the Pelican’s interior with an orange glow. “That should do it.”
Next came the biofoam. He picked up the canister and put the long nozzle into the burn. It didn’t hurt when he injected the foam and he was grateful for that. He did notice that the area around the burn and his upper arm was beginning to sting, however. He quickly applied the wound dressings and took a small dose of painkillers to offset the burning sensation that was now beginning to torment his entire upper arm. Deactivating the field and putting away the medical kit, Lawrence turned his attention to scavenging what he could from the wrecked Pelican.
Returning outside, he found his backpack where he had lost it. The Brute he had killed was there too, the energy sword still hissing as it sat embedded in the massive alien’s neck. He used his right hand to grab the sword’s handle and tried to dislodge it from its resting place. It didn’t budge at first, but suddenly it deactivated and caused him to stumble backwards with the handle in his grasp. Regaining his balance, Lawrence looked at the weapon in confusion. He tried to activate it, but nothing happened.
“Must’ve run out of batteries, I guess?” he said to himself. “I don’t know why I even kept this thing for that long, probably not safe to have one of these.” He quickly tossed the weapon into the pile of Covenant bodies and began packing his things. Shoving the few items he had into the bag, he paused when he picked up Ivanoff’s picture box. Inspecting it for any damage, he put it away after he confirmed that it wasn’t broken.
“For you, Ivanoff.” he said. “I won’t let any of this be for nothing.”
Still feeling dehydrated, he went back into the Pelican and began looking around for supplies.
He found multiple MRE packages, along with water, which he stored in his backpack. The best find was a canteen that made a sloshing sound when he shook it. Opening it, he found clean water contained within. He happily drank at least three-quarters of the water then attached the canteen to his belt. Along with rations, Lawrence found another assault rifle plus a pistol with plenty of spare magazines for each. One small crate he took down from the Pelican’s cargo rack was loaded with explosives. Lawrence took two of the frag grenades out and stored them on the side of his belt. Something else in the crate caught his eye, a canister that looked similar to a can of spray paint. The label identified it as C-7 foaming explosive, something Lawrence was familiar with. He had signed up for a course that taught combat engineering, including work with C-7, to broaden his skills a little bit. The course had lasted six weeks and he even got to use the explosive foam to demolish a fake structure. Grabbing the accompanying detonator, he scoured a few more crates until he figured he was fully stocked on gear. He didn’t know how well he would be able to shoot his rifle with a numb hand and injured arm, so he stuck it to the magmount underneath his backpack and opted for his pistol instead.
“Still, aiming is probably going to be difficult.” Lawrence said as he picked up a helmet that had been discarded on the floor. “I should get moving. Somewhere out there to the east, everyone’s being held prisoner. They have to be.” The idea that the Grunt had been lying to him to buy time for arming a plasma grenade hadn’t escaped him, but it was his best chance right now.
He put the helmet on, arming the heads-up display as he stepped out of the Pelican and into the warm sun. Before he began his trek, Lawrence opened a protein bar he had found. It was chocolate-flavored, a welcome surprise. Eating half of the bar, he stored the rest for later in a chest pouch and took another sip of water from the canteen. Finding east on his compass, Lawrence set off into the jungles once again, determined to find the location of the Covenant camp.
“Hang in there guys,” he thought as he jogged past trees and climbed over rocks, “please hang in there.”
There was a small stream up ahead, so Lawrence decided to stop and fill his canteen. Quickly opening his bag and retrieving a packet for water purification, he dipped the canteen into the water and dropped the tablets in before closing it and putting it back on his belt. Some kind of bird squawked in the trees nearby, which startled Lawrence. He spun around and looked for the source of the noise. Not far from where he was, several birds were perched on a tree branch. They were covered in black and white feathers, complimented by a curved bill in a vibrant red. He remembered seeing them in a book at one point and he tried to put a name to them.
“Hornbills, I think?” he thought as he watched the birds. “That must be a pair of them, plus a young one.”
Suddenly, the birds took flight and vanished into the trees. Lawrence thought it was amazing to watch. Quickly refocusing, he turned his attention away from the birds and towards travelling deeper into the jungle. The path he took was winding and complicated, with many detours due to rivers or rock walls. What he was happy about was that he hadn’t run into any wildlife, but he wondered what kind of creatures were out there. He tried the comm channels as well, but either his helmet was damaged or the signal was bad because he only got static when he attempted to hail any frequencies.
He began to wonder why. “Maybe I’m really deep into the jungle? Or is it some kind of signal jamming?” He looked up into the trees, looking at the little rays of sunshine peeking through the thick leaves. “I wonder if the battle in orbit is still going on? The Navy must have gotten slammed in the initial attack if a ship made it to the surface.”
All Lawrence remembered was the whine of a plasma grenade as it prepared to detonate and a wave of heat blasting up his left side as he had leapt away in panic. The wave from the blast had slammed him into a rock, leaving his ribs in agony. Luckily, he didn’t think anything was broken.
“And,” he thought to himself as he regained the ability to breathe comfortably, “I’m alive. That’s a big plus.”
Not wanting to waste any more time, Lawrence began sitting up. As he did, he noticed that his left arm was extremely stiff and something smelled like it was burnt.
Lawrence cursed softly. “Looks like I didn’t get out of that explosion unscathed however.” His forearm was a mess of darkened reds and browns, with a texture almost like leather. “Third-degree, up the entire forearm.”
He was shocked that it didn’t hurt at all, but he quickly remembered that it was because the nerves in and around the burn had likely been destroyed. He noticed that his left fingers felt like they were being stabbed by pins while the rest of his hand was numb. This had to be treated, and quickly. Lawrence, careful to not use his injured arm, got to his feet and made his way towards the Pelican. He was beginning to feel dehydrated and slightly weak as he found one of the medical kits on the floor of the troop bay. Opening it, he quickly surveyed the medicines and tried to work out how he could treat a burn as bad as this. He knew how to use a medical kit to deal with smaller injuries, but this was entirely out of his league.
“C’mon, think.” He began running everything through his mind, trying to connect the dots.
He took out a packet of antiseptic wound dressings and biofoam. Inside of the kit there was also a device that he recognized as a sterile field generator.
“Infection will be one of the big problems with this,” he said to himself as he looked at the disgusting mess that was his arm, “better make sure it’s disinfected before treating it.” He fiddled with the generator for a second before it switched on, bathing the Pelican’s interior with an orange glow. “That should do it.”
Next came the biofoam. He picked up the canister and put the long nozzle into the burn. It didn’t hurt when he injected the foam and he was grateful for that. He did notice that the area around the burn and his upper arm was beginning to sting, however. He quickly applied the wound dressings and took a small dose of painkillers to offset the burning sensation that was now beginning to torment his entire upper arm. Deactivating the field and putting away the medical kit, Lawrence turned his attention to scavenging what he could from the wrecked Pelican.
Returning outside, he found his backpack where he had lost it. The Brute he had killed was there too, the energy sword still hissing as it sat embedded in the massive alien’s neck. He used his right hand to grab the sword’s handle and tried to dislodge it from its resting place. It didn’t budge at first, but suddenly it deactivated and caused him to stumble backwards with the handle in his grasp. Regaining his balance, Lawrence looked at the weapon in confusion. He tried to activate it, but nothing happened.
“Must’ve run out of batteries, I guess?” he said to himself. “I don’t know why I even kept this thing for that long, probably not safe to have one of these.” He quickly tossed the weapon into the pile of Covenant bodies and began packing his things. Shoving the few items he had into the bag, he paused when he picked up Ivanoff’s picture box. Inspecting it for any damage, he put it away after he confirmed that it wasn’t broken.
“For you, Ivanoff.” he said. “I won’t let any of this be for nothing.”
Still feeling dehydrated, he went back into the Pelican and began looking around for supplies.
He found multiple MRE packages, along with water, which he stored in his backpack. The best find was a canteen that made a sloshing sound when he shook it. Opening it, he found clean water contained within. He happily drank at least three-quarters of the water then attached the canteen to his belt. Along with rations, Lawrence found another assault rifle plus a pistol with plenty of spare magazines for each. One small crate he took down from the Pelican’s cargo rack was loaded with explosives. Lawrence took two of the frag grenades out and stored them on the side of his belt. Something else in the crate caught his eye, a canister that looked similar to a can of spray paint. The label identified it as C-7 foaming explosive, something Lawrence was familiar with. He had signed up for a course that taught combat engineering, including work with C-7, to broaden his skills a little bit. The course had lasted six weeks and he even got to use the explosive foam to demolish a fake structure. Grabbing the accompanying detonator, he scoured a few more crates until he figured he was fully stocked on gear. He didn’t know how well he would be able to shoot his rifle with a numb hand and injured arm, so he stuck it to the magmount underneath his backpack and opted for his pistol instead.
“Still, aiming is probably going to be difficult.” Lawrence said as he picked up a helmet that had been discarded on the floor. “I should get moving. Somewhere out there to the east, everyone’s being held prisoner. They have to be.” The idea that the Grunt had been lying to him to buy time for arming a plasma grenade hadn’t escaped him, but it was his best chance right now.
He put the helmet on, arming the heads-up display as he stepped out of the Pelican and into the warm sun. Before he began his trek, Lawrence opened a protein bar he had found. It was chocolate-flavored, a welcome surprise. Eating half of the bar, he stored the rest for later in a chest pouch and took another sip of water from the canteen. Finding east on his compass, Lawrence set off into the jungles once again, determined to find the location of the Covenant camp.
“Hang in there guys,” he thought as he jogged past trees and climbed over rocks, “please hang in there.”
There was a small stream up ahead, so Lawrence decided to stop and fill his canteen. Quickly opening his bag and retrieving a packet for water purification, he dipped the canteen into the water and dropped the tablets in before closing it and putting it back on his belt. Some kind of bird squawked in the trees nearby, which startled Lawrence. He spun around and looked for the source of the noise. Not far from where he was, several birds were perched on a tree branch. They were covered in black and white feathers, complimented by a curved bill in a vibrant red. He remembered seeing them in a book at one point and he tried to put a name to them.
“Hornbills, I think?” he thought as he watched the birds. “That must be a pair of them, plus a young one.”
Suddenly, the birds took flight and vanished into the trees. Lawrence thought it was amazing to watch. Quickly refocusing, he turned his attention away from the birds and towards travelling deeper into the jungle. The path he took was winding and complicated, with many detours due to rivers or rock walls. What he was happy about was that he hadn’t run into any wildlife, but he wondered what kind of creatures were out there. He tried the comm channels as well, but either his helmet was damaged or the signal was bad because he only got static when he attempted to hail any frequencies.
He began to wonder why. “Maybe I’m really deep into the jungle? Or is it some kind of signal jamming?” He looked up into the trees, looking at the little rays of sunshine peeking through the thick leaves. “I wonder if the battle in orbit is still going on? The Navy must have gotten slammed in the initial attack if a ship made it to the surface.”
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