Location: En Route to UNSC Forward Operating Base, Virek
Date and Time: May 22, 2553 – 1200 Hours
The squad was racing the M12 LRV over the rough terrain, every bump sending a jolt of pain through my side. I grip the edge of the seat, trying to stay focused, but the wound is making it harder to keep my head clear. Blood seeps through my armor, and I can feel my strength starting to slip away.
"Hang in there, Kowalski," Santiago says from the back seat, his voice steady but urgent. "We're almost there."
I nod, gritting my teeth against the pain. The base isn't far, but every second feels like an eternity. O'Neill pushes the Warthog to its limit, the engine roaring as we tear across the landscape, leaving a trail of dust in our wake.
In the distance, I can just make out the outline of the UNSC Forward Operating Base—a small cluster of buildings surrounded by makeshift fortifications. It's not much, but right now, it's the safest place we can be. The sight of it gives me a small surge of hope, and I force myself to stay conscious.
"We've got the intel," Dash says, glancing at me over his shoulder. "You did good out there, man."
I manage a weak smile, but the truth is, I barely remember what happened. The recon mission was a blur of movement, tension, and then pain. All I know is that we have the information we need, and now we just have to get it to command before the URF makes their next move.
The Warthog skids to a stop at the entrance to the base, and Santiago and Dash are out of the vehicle before it even comes to a full halt. They move quickly, helping me out of the passenger seat and supporting me as we make our way toward the med tent.
"I can walk," I mutter, though the words come out more like a groan.
"Not a chance," Santiago replies, his grip tightening around my arm. "You're in no shape to argue."
I don't have the energy to fight him on that, so I let them help me into the tent. The familiar smell of antiseptic fills the air, and as soon as we step inside, Emily is there, her eyes wide with concern.
"Oh my God, Tom," she says, rushing over to me. "What happened?"
I open my mouth to answer, but the world tilts suddenly, and everything starts to go dark. Before I can say anything, Santiago speaks for me.
"He took a hit during the recon mission. We've got the intel, but he's bleeding bad."
"Get him on the table," Emily says, all business now as she takes control of the situation. Dash and Santiago guide me to a cot, and Emily immediately starts working, cutting away my armor and inspecting the wound.
I try to stay conscious, but it's getting harder to focus. The room spins around me, and Emily's voice becomes distant, like it's coming from underwater. I hear snippets of her talking to the other medics, calling for supplies, issuing orders, but it all feels like a blur.
The last thing I see before everything goes black is Emily's face, her expression a mix of determination and worry.
When I wake up, the med tent is quieter. My head feels heavy, and there's a dull ache in my side, but the sharp pain is gone. I blink a few times, trying to clear the fog from my mind, and then I realize that Emily is sitting beside me, her hand resting gently on mine.
"You're awake," she says softly, her voice filled with relief.
I nod, though it takes more effort than I'd like. "Yeah… I'm still here."
She smiles, but there's a shadow of concern in her eyes. "You scared me for a minute there."
I squeeze her hand weakly. "Didn't mean to."
She shakes her head, her smile growing a little brighter. "You never do."
For a moment, we just sit there in silence, the tension from earlier slowly ebbing away. The med tent is quiet now, with only a few other injured Marines resting on nearby cots. It's a stark contrast to the chaos of the battlefield, and I can't help but feel a sense of calm settling over me.
"How bad is it?" I ask, glancing down at my side. There's a bandage wrapped tightly around my torso, and while the pain is still there, it's manageable.
"It wasn't as bad as it could've been," Emily says, her voice steady but serious. "You were lucky. The bullet grazed you, but it didn't hit anything vital. You'll be sore for a while, but you'll be okay."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "That's good to hear."
"You need to rest," she adds, her tone softening. "I know you want to get back out there, but you need time to heal. You can't do that if you're pushing yourself too hard."
I nod, knowing she's right. The mission was a close call, and as much as I hate the idea of sitting on the sidelines, I know I need to be at full strength for whatever comes next. The URF isn't going to wait for me to recover, but I'll be damned if I go down without a fight.
"I'll take it easy," I promise, though we both know that's easier said than done.
She gives me a knowing look but doesn't push the issue. Instead, she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "I'm just glad you're okay."
"Thanks to you," I say, smiling up at her.
For a while, we just sit together, the quiet of the med tent wrapping around us like a blanket. The war is still out there, and the URF is still a threat, but right now, in this moment, everything feels manageable. The intel we gathered is crucial, and once command has it, we'll be one step closer to stopping whatever the URF is planning.
But for now, all I can do is rest. And with Emily by my side, that doesn't seem so bad.