The First Human

In the hut

	They had just made it out of the rain and into the abandoned habitat.  The construct was once a towering complex, now transformed into ruined stone work by the orbiting fleet of the Brotherhood.  Though this was in no means an invasion.  

	The defenders of the Brotherhood come from many worlds in the galaxy.  Each one pledged to serve and protect the systems within their influence.  Now they come to a world deep inside their reach, a world habited by a race that has yet to explore the void, yet besieged by the Insectoid spawn of the Vex.    
	This was not the first time the Brotherhood had conflicts with the Vex and it would not be their last.  The Vex once invaded Earth and that is what brought John Hill into the Brotherhood and likewise what brought the Brotherhood to Earth.    
	The Vex are an insect race, John met several up close before joining the Brotherhood.  They looked like giant ants.  Two large bowl shaped eyes shimmered like diamonds in their heads, John learned that much like a fly, each dome contained thousands of eyes.  Two twig thin antenna probed the air over their shovel shaped heads.  Their mouths were shielded by four thick mandibles that seemed to close into a perfect point.  John made it a goal to push the muzzle of his Pulse gun deep into their maws before squeezing the trigger or at least aiming so the blue pulse of heated plasma would burst their fragile heads.    
	Too hate the Vex was to soft a word to use for John.  He was utterly disgusted by them, both in their appearance and their reckless disregard for life.  He remembered what they did to the people of Earth every time he saw one.  He loved killing Vex.  He was the first of his family to push in and make the death blow.  His Gun bore the kill count in hash marks along the casing of his gun.  Any that were a definite head shot were marked at the barrels head with a bug skull.      
	  
The four Brothers made it inside, with the ceiling still intact too keep the rain off them and out of the dwelling.  Their cloaks shed the last remnants of the rain from it's surface as they pulled back their hoods.  For Rann'kar it was difficult as the hood wrapped around his curling horns, the Fabric just melted back into his protective blue skin.    
	John and Rann'kar sat down in the ruin husk of the stone works.  Their helmets cracked in key locking points and released the internal pressure before decoupling and sinking into the armor skin's collar.  They each took a breath of un-recycled air into their lungs, ignoring the tangible dust of the habitat.    
	    
	John spoke, taking time to breath between words.  "Ranky."  
	"Yea." Rann'kar swallowed the fluids building in his mouth.  
	"Remind me...to never eat groo...before a mission."  John felt a slight belch form in his mouth, but it did not pass.  He placed a hand on his belly to settle his stomach.  
	"Likewhyz."  Rann'kar gagged slightly, his teeth gapping slightly showing off his lips just behind the second row of teeth. "Damn Vedareeyan spice."

	The last came down at their own pace down the ruins, finding refuge from the rain.  They sat opposite of their two brothers, John and Rann'kar.  The giant amongst them was Tusst, their commander on the field and a veteran of the Brotherhood for millennia.  When he walked, his steps carried the weight of his bulk, but it wasn't the protective armored skin that made him heavy, it was just him.  His steps nearly made new imprints in the stone work as finally sat down in a large area, just beside the room that used to be a dinning center.  He crossed his legs as his helmet decoupled and locked around his gorget.  When John saw Tusst for the first time, he imagined him as the Elephants from Africa.  Though his nose was less pronounced and his ears were smaller in comparison.  Two long ivory tusks protruded from his upper jaw line, each one lined with rings made of alien brass.  His head was bald, save for a few thin hairs.  He snorted through his trunk, and John thought it was the sound of a trumpet horn blowing dry hollowed air.       
	But where Tusst was slow and cumbersome his subordinate and brother, Salen was more precise and swift in his motions.  Taking a spot between two stone slabs and resting his arms on each as though he were settling into a couch, all he needed was an .  But in contrast, Salen was smaller and far more fragile than his elder brother.  Where Tusst was slow and massive, Salen was smaller and frail.  Without his armor Salen was like an empty nut shell to him.   pulled out his torch from his belt and ignited the small ember flame at the length of the shaft before throwing it between the four of them.  The ember grew info a full fire bit as the cold rain continued to wash the over.  John thought it looked like a veil over the massive hole in the shelter.  The rain was heavy and thick, he couldn't see the other side of the road, but knew the other members of the Brotherhood were doing as they were: keeping dry and warm.  The rain relaxed him as he remembered the storms back in Texas, the sound, the smell, the color.  For a brief moment, he felt he was home.  He felt a cold shiver run up his spine, it was an old sensation he thought long gone.  
	"We'll hold out here until the weather clears up." Tusst clasped his large arms across his shoulders, his way of keeping his hand warm.  Though his armor already did so, it was nothing but reflex on his part.  
	"That might be a while, Boss."  John replied, exhaustion present in his voice.  His armor generated the sand brown cloak over his armor and he draped it over him like a blanket, even curling his knees inside the fabric.  "Reminds me of the storms back on Earth, they'd last all day and to the night.  I could hear the rain bash against my window and rattle the vents to my stove.    
	Rann'kar snorted as he pulled his cloak over his frame.  "We don't have weather like this on Karradon.  Water should stay on the ground, not in the air.  Bloody menace."  
	Salen was warming his hands, the gauntlets retracted into his armor.  His palms were a pale white to his browned skin.  "Needless it is something that all life needs, Brother Rann'kar.  Some life forms cannot move about as we do."  
	Rann'kar only snarled, refusing to be bated into debating with the philosopher.  He turned on his side putting his back to John and trying to rest his quad horned head on the stones.  
	There was a hovering silence between the four.  The only amiance was the burning torch burning in the stone floor and the roar of the rain outside.    
	John was staring out of the various openings of the structure, watching the rain and listening too its sizzle as it fell.  
	  
	Two hours into the Campaign.

	Tusst changed his seating, facing the openings of their shelter.  His helm kept an ear open on the network for alerts.  Brother Salen was asleep, his helmet encasing his head as he lay on the ground.  Brother Rann'kar gave up reclining against the rubble and did as Salen, sleeping on the ground.  His armored tail curled under his hooves too keep inside his cloak.  John was still awake, watching the rainfall from his spot, occasionally closing his eyes to remember his life and home before joining the Brotherhood.  

	A FLASH of Light.    
	  
	'One-onethousand, two-onethousand, three-onethousand, four-one...'  
	A Crash of thunder roared and boomed in the air, muting the rainfall for a brief moment.  The sound vibrated the stone works and John's armor for a brief moment.    
	'About four and a third miles away.'    
	Rann'kar growled, "Was that Artillery?" he did not move, his voice was low as he drifted between consciousness and a dream.  
	"Na, just the weather."  John replied, still fixated with the rain and his memories.  
	  
	Sixteen Minutes into the Campaign.

	Another Flash of Light.

'one-onethousand, two-onethousand, three-onethousand, four-onethousand, five-onethousand, sixe-onethousand, seven-onethousand.'  
	The Crash was distant, like a low roar that seemed to crawl over the skies before dying out.  
	A Loud Roar came a minute after the thunder.  It rocked the shelter and loosened dust.  Salen and Rann'kar pushed themselves up from the ground, listening and scanning the skies.  
	"That wasn't thunder!" the words left John's lips.    
	Another one, farther away and less volatile than the first shot.  Another, slightly closer.  
	As the trio lay still like curious birds their eyes darted back and forth, hoping to see the shells or the explosions.  Tusst remained still with his eyes closed and hands pressed together in a form of a prayer.  
	John looked to Tusst, hoping he would have reacted to the bombardment.  He whispered the Sergeants rank at first, but when Tusst did not respond he began crawling on his hands and knees towards the Sergeant to gain his attention.  But Rann'kar grabbed his arm before he could get closer, hissing for his brother to wait.    
	"He's meditating."  
	"He picked a lousy time fer it."  
	"I've seen him do this before.  If he isn't moving, then neither do we.  Understand?"  
	"Not really."  
	"I'll tell ya about it latta.  For now, leave em be." 

<to be continued ... incomplete>

Any News?

	It was raining on Argash.  The rain soaked the bare ground as it came down.  The Brothers were waiting inside the trench works at the front line.  They were waiting for news, any news about their distant cousins in the Red Company and Alabaster Hordes.  The Brotherhood drew the short straw, holding the line as they waited for news about the developments on Argash.    
	The Night was taxing as the rain fell over John's cloak.  He grasped his collar trying to keep his robes from flailing open to the rain as he trudged through the mud.  He had been on guard duty since morning and was ready for a break now, making for the bunker and eager for a meal.

	A yellow lantern flickered low in the trenches just outside the bunker.  He knocked on the wooden door.  John couldn't help but laugh at the comical irony of a wooden door used by a conglomeration of aliens.  Star Wars, Star Trek and many other films had envisioned self opening doors when dealing with aliens.  But the reality was, trench warfare on a distant alien world, assailed by hostile insectoids did not allow for "high tech" doors.    
	It opened and Rann'kar let his soaked kinsmen enter.  John pulled back his hood as the water ran down his cloak.  He shook his bare head, shaking free any stray drops that might have built up.  He looked around and found more Brothers resting for the night.  Some huddled together for warmth in their cloaks.  Others were eating their bars or drinking from bowls served by the cook.  A few seemed focused on their personal effects, a smoker with his pipe, one reading his book, another reading letters from home and others in silent prayer.  John felt like he was reliving a life during the first world war, watching his allied comrades mimicking the same events as the aliens he know called kin.  He wondered if those past veterans of his world felt the same as he did: home sick, cold, hungry and scared.    
	The Bunker was built underground support by pillars of wood erected in the room.  Squared off plates of scrap metal littered the ground as a quick make flooring, recovered from earlier fighting.  John could make out one of the pieces was an armored skin plate from a ground gun of the Red Company.  Another was from a transport ship belonging to the Brotherhood.  Lanterns flickers their yellow light through the room as they hung from the walls.    
	  
	John turned to Rann'kar, who closed the door and moved the locking pin in place.  
	John spoke in a low tone,  "Any news yet?"    
	"None.  Been quiet all day."  
	John sighed, more upset with this news than his time on watch.  He turned to their cook at the make ship griller.  "Anything to eat?"  
	Rann'kar leaned back against the door, keeping his ear for anyone else coming up.  "Tepp's got somethen goin, still warm."  
	John flapped his arms inside his robes to flake off the last of the water.  "Works fer me, I'm outta bars."

	John went over to Teppion, or Tepp, the cook.  He was a four armed beast built like a gorilla and as furry as a brown bear.  John thought he looked like a Wookie when he first met Tepp.  On more than one occassion he thought about introducing him to George Lucas, if he ever returned to Earth.    
	John nodded to Tepp as he approached.  The pot was steaming hot from the cooker below.  John could smell what was cooking, he wasn't sure if it was good or not. "What's on menu today, Tepp?"    
	Tepp grabbed a metal bowl from a stack behind him in one hand, filled it with the broth cooking in his pot.  He growled as he prepared to speak, handing the bowl to John.  "Gresk'ket brroth."  The way in which he pronounced 'broth' seemed like he was trying too explain the word to John.  
	"Just be aware, human, it's got some of his 'special sauce' in the mix."  Came one voice at the walls.  
	"I was on the job all morning without a bite, at this point I don't care if it talks to me, Ardvill."  John smiled as he took a piece of what he assumed was a potatoe cube and threw it in his mouth, it wasn't a potato but wasn't bad either.    
	Tep barked a laugh as he aimed his waddle spoon at John, "Ya see here boys, here's a brother who knows fine cooking!"  
	"That and I'm all outta bars."  John and a few of the Brothers chuckled.  

	He took a seat next to one of his larger kinsmen, who was reading through a letter on a data pad.  John examined the contents more closely with his finger and found one of the floating pieces in the mix looked like a zucchini slice.  It was soft between his fingers as he ate it and was happy too see it was sweet and seasoned.  His reaction changed, however, when he tried to drink the broth straight from the bowl.  He nearly gagged on the small alien veggies in his mouth.  He wanted to spit it out, but forced it down his gullet instead, his parents taught him better than too spit in public.  
	"What in this?" He asked, trying to clean the taste from his tongue.  
	The cook aimed his cooking waddle at John, "It won't kill you.  Got all the nutrition you need, son."  
	"Its not that bad, Pozze."  Rann'kar added.  "I'd have three of those if we weren't on ration call."  
	John leaned against as he stuck his finger into the mix and tasted the broth on his gauntlet, "Well I'll gladly trade my share for a few bars."  
	A towering Brother looked over at John from the other side of the room.  He had the features of an Orangutan with a military grade beard and hair cut.  "I'll give ya two bars for it?"  
	"Deal."  
	The creature was Organjah.  He walked with a military man's grace as he reached into his supply pouch and presented two silver wrapped bars about five inches long and two inches thick.  John traded his bowl for the bars, placing one in his bare supply pouch and ripping the silver wrapping off the other.  The bar was a dark chocolate color, but was soft and mushy in his mouth.  

	"You'll haff ta ration those."  Rann added.  
	"Oh aye mow."  John was still chewing the first bite.  He swallowed it at last.  "I can make it on just one bite a day with these."

	Bars were a nutritional meal for the Brothers in times of fighting.  One bar was a seven coarse meal in itself.  It could keep a person alert, awake and well feed for a single day in one bite.  Although, the quality of the meal varies for each species, Tusst had to eat a whole bar too satisfy his hunger.  Corin could only eat pinched off pieces, any larger and he would risk increasing his heart rate and go into hyper stimulation.

	Another knock at the door.  
	Two more Brothers entered, one of whom was Salen.  He immedietly turned to Rann.  "Any news from the Captain?"  
	"None."  
	"I hope we hear from our cousins soon.  Won't be long before the Xer make another push."  
	"I guess we won't be home by the months end after all."  John added, putting the bar in his supply bag at his belt.  
	Rann'kar snapped his talon in an affirmative point at John, his attitude was a typical snarl remark.  "Hey, Lord Acaji said weed be done by this monthss end." He aimed his finger point to the ground, anchoring his statement with the weight of his words.  "And if Lord Acaji says it's the monthss end, then IT IS FACT!"  
	  
	It was difficult, more impossible, to argue with those words.  Lord Acaji was the founder and leader of the Brotherhood.  He was the brightest of all the Brothers when it came to planning out the length of a campaign.  Every encounter he examined played out in his mind and calculated the time it would take for his founding too accomplishes the task.  Some times it was a week or earlier than anticipated and only twice was he off by no more than a day or two.    
	John had never met Lord Acaji in person, only faint glances during briefings at the Great Hall and once during his trial before the Brotherhood.  He had never seen Lord Acaji on the battlefield.   
	But John's mind wandered to the historical knowledge from World War two: Just when it seemed the Allies were about to make it into Germany by Christmas, the war was extended.  He couldn't help but be a little optimistic.  He hadn't been in the Brotherhood that long.

	"I'm just keeping an open mind, Rannie.  Things could happen."  
	Rann'ka snorted and leaned against the door.

	John was nearly asleep when he heard a Brother enter the room.  It was the Bunker's Communications operator.  He came in with a slight cheery glow in his face, though it was hard too tell with someone who looked like an armadillo.    
	"Just got news.  The Founders are pushing into the flanks.  Lord Acaji just got the approval too have the Brotherhood mobilize."  
	"How soon?" Asked a Brother?  
	"Don't know.  But he's expected to give the order in an hour."  
	John let out a huff of air, "Well...at least we heard something."  
	A light chuckle grew from the room.

<to be continued ... incomplete>