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Journal of a Mobile Infantry Marine

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The Journal of Marine #13

Journal Entry 1 - I refuse to date these entries because it will only remind me of how long I've been doing this in the long run, and that is one of the things I don't want to remember. I decided to start keeping this journal because the medical officer told me it would help me with my stress issues. I'm not here because of any ideology I hold or any hatred I have against our enemies. I joined the crew of the ICV Death Wing because the pay is good and I thought I'd get to see the universe. Question, was I wrong? Answer, YES! The pay IS good this is true, but I don't get to see anything! They should tell you when they're recruiting you that, while your ship will be all over the galaxy, you won't be able to see it because most likely your ship doesn't have any windows where you'll be!

This is only my third day on ship and already I'm starting to get bored. The first day here I reported to someone named Paul. He was supposed to be an officer but when I approached him on the deck he was staring at a blank vidscreen and I swear I think he was drooling a little bit. To get his attention I tapped my rifle lightly against his station, before I knew it I had a Scat pistol pointing at my skull and Paul had a wide eyed look of a rabbit about to get run over on his face. Once we'd sorted out who was who he gave me my orders, which consisted of a poorly drawn map of the ship using what appears to be tomato soup, highlighted with smashed peas to designate my patrol route. On my way out another officer downloaded an actual map of the ship into my personal computer complete with patrol orders for the next six months.

After this I checked into my bunk where 19 other marines of various qualifications also live. At that time most of them were out on patrol or sleeping so I didn't want to bother any one. The crew quarters are cramped, very Spartan I believe they say back on Earth. I checked what little I had into my bunk, lucky number 13, and started my first patrol. For the first week of deployment I'm scheduled to patrol the lower decks, apparently all I have to do is walk and keep alert and my helmet will update waypoints for me, I don't even have to know where I am. . . . .boring. My first eight hour patrol ended without event, my helmet even pointed me to my own bed and told me to sleep, thanks mate I had NO idea that is what a bed was for . . . This isn't what I had in mind when I decided to join up.

Journal Entry 2 - Today I got my first piece of action on board. As I was trudging along on the low mile a general intruder alert was sent out through-out the ship. The low mile is a tunnel that runs from the nose of our Megaron carrier all the way to the launch bays at the back. It is poorly lit and has no purpose other than a direct route from one end of the ship to the other, however in the past intruders have been known to hide down here so . . . At any rate the alert went out while I was in the middle of the mile, either way I went it would be half a mile until I had access to the rest of the ship so unless they beamed right into my corridor I wasn't going to see any action. My helmet told me to head towards the front of the ship so that is what I did, low and behold what do I find by two Earth Com soldiers running down the corridor in my direction. Get this now, they were lugging between them a entire replacement engine for a fighter craft!! I have no idea where they got it or why they wanted it, but they didn't see me in time. I opened fire with my issued rifle and managed to pick them both off in my first burst. I radioed back to command that I had down two intruders in the low mile, this was the first time they informed me that I was supposed to take them prisoner if at all possible . . . whoops hehehe.

Journal Entry 3 - Well I'm the only MI marine on board with any kills now, and that has earned me a measure of respect among the other marines. They admired the fact that I take no prisoners, sadly the commander did not! I have been given a violtion on my record because I smoked those EarthCom idiots instead of taking them to the brig. Even worse the entire situation is under review because it turns out it is also against the rules to kill unarmed enemies in the first place, how did I know they were unarmed? Oh well it doesn't effect me all that much, my patrol route is the same and I've still earned a rep around here for being a real killer. These feats of man slaughtering has earned me the nick name Predator among the marines but I doubt it will stick. Just to update I have no idea where our ship is, as again I havn't seen a window since I got on board. I heard we managed to take over Wraith station, which I believe is in the Terran quadrant other than that I have no idea where it is. The worst thing that has happened since my last entry however, is when the ship cloaked.

I was on patrol, once again in the low mile, when a general alert went out across the ship that we were about to enter combat and that the ship was going to cloak. Aparently the people that build these things havn't perfected this technology yet, and after a few minutes my RAD meter started ticking like crazy. We were only cloaked for about 5 minutes in total but it was enough time for an alert to sound in my helmet that I had been exposed to high levels of radiation, but did not require medical attention. I guess I'll have to stay away from the micowaves in the mess hall for a while eh? My friend #12 says I'm starting to glow in the dark . . . what a jerk.

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Journal Entry 4 - It has been several weeks since the last time I wrote in my journal. Things have been rather boring as of late. From what I hear our fighter pilots have been doing rather well with about six kills between them. That is all well and good but it doesn't really give me anything new to do. My patrols over the last several weeks have been varried and I even got watch over the detention hold for a few days even though it's empty. . . I write now because the ship has docked at Wraith station for upgrades. Aparently one of the GalCom ships we destroyed was transporting surface to orbit missles and we were able to recover a few. The commander now has enough money to upgrade the ship due to sale of these missles to Wraith station, and they're going to take a few days. With the ship in dock I am more or less on shore leave, though the station is just as boring as the ship. The rec room and library are almost exactly the same as the one on board so I've decided just to hang out at my bunk and get some rest whils I write here.

Journal Entry 5 - Well we're planet side now, or so I hear. I'm back on full patrol duty since we left Wraith station and I felt a bit of a jolt as we made planet fall, made my stomach flip a few times I think. According to one of the recon force marines a military base has been under air raids from a near by Galcom base and requires our support. The command landed the ship right next to the base and now our PTA system is working as an extremly expensive anti-air system for the base. Patrols have been stepped up now that we are landed and we are to be prepared to depart the ship for combat at any moment. This is the most exciting thing that has happened so far, I just hope they choose me for the next away mission as I still have more kills than any other marine.

Journal Entry 6 - Dear journal. I write this entry with a robotic arm. I got my wish a few days ago when my helmet buzzed with the orders to make my way to the shuttle bay. When I arrived there were four other marines there of various types. I was the only mobile infantry marine, it seemed, the rest were recon force and medics. I was told that it would be my job to drive a heavily armed APC into a combat zone on a misison to rescue a downed pilot named Lace or something like that. All I had to do was drive the team as close to the base as possible and the recon force marine would sneak in and spring the pilot. I don't know why they didn't just clone the guy but I wasn't about to question orders.

I loaded directly into the APC driver seat along with the other marines and the downed pilots co-pilot flew the shuttle. The ride was bumpy and the pilot saw fit to deploy us about 10 feet above the ground whilst he was still in flight. The APC fell 10 feet to the ground without warning and jarred us all. The medical force marine checked everyone else for injuries as I kicked the APC into high gear. The controls were very simple, much to my surprise, and before long our team had arrived at the deploy zone. I could see in the distance through the thin viewing portals the enemies buildings in the distance. Everything went fine up until that point and the team deployed without being detected. The three recon force marines departed and left myself and the medical marine behind in the APC waiting for their arrival.

It was night when they left and they were suposed to be back before the sun came up, so when the alarm at the base went off we could see the search lights flare on in the camp. In no time gunships and fighters were flying here and there scowering the land scape for us, and I knew it would only be a matter of time before they found us. Still, my orders were to stay there until the team returned or die. Sadly the team never made it back to the APC as a phantom gunship found us shortly after the alarm went off. The incoming missle set off so many alarms in our APC we didn't know what to do so we both jumped out the rear exit moments before the missle impacted. I supose command was watching the entire situation from the ship as second later I found myself in the transporter room along side the remains of my medic friend.

Bad news is my arm was cut clean off by a flying piece of the APC's armor plate, the good news is the Recon force marines managed to make it out of there after all and radioed back to the CC that they weren't going to be able to make it to the APC. At that point the carrier went into orbit so they could beam everyone up, I guess they really do care about us eh? Oh well, the medical office on board fitted me with a powerful robotic arm and set me as off duty for the next few weeks while my body gets used to it. Obviously I can already write with it so I'm hoping they'll put me back on duty sooner than this.

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Journal Entry 7 - Times are good, with my new arm and combat stories my rep among the other marines is on the rise. I've been promoted to a captain of sorts over the rest of the marines. The ships medical officer has cleared me for active duty, for right now it is back to the same boring patrols through-out the ship. A big change here however, is that I now assign the patrols instead of follow them. I've made some drastic changes to the ships patrol patterns so that the areas intruders generally beam into are more covered and every nook and cranny is checked on a daily basis for any one smart enough to hide from the perscan computers. I have a posiiton on the bridge now just behind Paul Resing. To be honest I'm literally doing his job while he plays with clay and tells toy soliders what to do, I'm NOT kidding.

Word from the officers is that we are being deployed to Sol to harass and destroy shipping in the area. Aparently this is in prep for a full out asault on the system from the newly claimed Wraith station. This are looking up for me here, I've been tasked with planning the assault on the station itself. They havn't told me the name of it yet, as I really don't need to know, but I do have a detailed internal lay out. Once I've finished with my plans they will be transfered to a Genris class armed transport and I will command their assualt from our ship via the tac-ops computer. I'll be safe on sound on this death machine while those marines fight and die on my command . . . feels good to be the big dog for a change. On another high note the Genris has been named Predator in my honor and the troops aboard have taken to calling themselves Preadtor's Hunters. I guess everyone needs a hero in times like these, I just never thought it would be me.

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