Welcome to Gaia! ::

"Sadly no, it looks like they had no time to put up any kind of fight. What I seen I wouldn't even wish on my worst enemy. Nobody deserves what I seen."

"After seeing what I seen all I want to do is kick some alien a**, but those were the only three bodys we found, and I coverd alot of diffrent areas and didn't find any other bodies. Oh yea, everyone has been ordered to stay with someone, no one is to be alone at any time. We don't want to end up dead and mutalated."

Howie stod close to the SPARTAN as well, this would be a good chance for him to figer out more information for himself. The whole thing just seemed weird.

"Alright, Rose, you fill me in on the stiuation, then." Furon pulled his rifle back up to his front.

The SPARTAN closed out the report he'd been reading on his HUD as he glanced over his shoulder, hearing some other Marine speaking to him. He quickly recognized the 'other Marine' as being the other commanding officer of this operation. He resisted his usual urge to salute, since they were technically in the same rank with different titles. He heard him mention something about bodies, and glanced at the corner of his helmet, where the report had been just moments ago. He nodded slightly in response to his words, having heard from other teams that had tagged along with the Pirates. "Yes, we have found some remains, but they're too far gone to provide us with any decent information on what occured here. For now, all we can do is stay on guard, make sure we keep the back door open, and await further orders from the Titan." With the Titan in mind, he headed over toward the COM Tech who had been sent down from the Carrier with them, watching as he tweaked the controls of their portable COM system. They'd need a direct line to their forces above, just in case they'd need to call for some form of aid.

Pulling out a Cuban cigar, an ODST beside him nudged Mendez in the side. "Hey bud, lemme get a puff of that." Mendez lit the cigar, took a long draw from it, then handed it to the other ODST. As he exhaled the smoke, he formed a small little ring in the air, then threw his hand through it, breaking it in half. A couple more of the ODSTs came over and had a smoke, then they went back to their normal duties.

Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a book. It was a copy of the vintage books from the Author, Stephen King. It wasn't in the best condition but that's what 500 years does. It had been rewritten by Jack Gandolini, an old italtian author. The book had to be at least 50 years old if not more. It was supposedly from a series called the Dark Tower Series. The fifth novel, if he wasn't mistaken. He had all seven, but he was only on number five. Wolves of the Calla. The bright light from the sun shined down upon him and the slightly tanned pages of the book. He read.

..............................Chapter VII:
...............................The Wolves


...................................ONE

See this now, see it very well:
....Here is a road wide and as well-maintained as
any secondary rod in america, but of the smooth
packed dirt the Calla-folk call oggan. Ditches for
runoff border both sides; here and there neat and
well-maintained wooden culverts run beneath the
oggan. In the faint, unearthly light that comes
before dawn, a dozen bucka waggons they are
the kind driven by the Manni, with rounded canvas
tops roll along the road. The canvas is bright
clean white, to reflect the sun and keep the interi-
or cool on hot summer days, and they look like
strange, low-floating clouds. The cumulus kind,
may it do ya. Each waggon is drawn by a team of six
mules or four horses. On the seat of each, driving,
are either a pair of fighters or of designated child-
minders. Overholser is driving the lead waggon,
with Margaret Eisenhart beside him. Next in line
comes Roland of Gilead, mated with Ben Slight-
man. Fifth is Tian and Zalia Jaffords. Seventh is
Eddie and Susannah Dean. Susannah's wheelchair
is folded up in the waggon behind her. Bucky and
Annabelle Javier are in charge of the tenth. On the
peak-seat of the last waggon are Father Donald
Callahan and Rosalita Munoz.
....Inside the buckas are ninety-nine children. The
left-over twin---the one that makes for an odd
number---is Benny Slightman, of course. He is rid-
ing in the last waggon. (He felt uncomfortable
about going with his father.) The children don't
speak. Some of the younger ones have gone back
to sleep; they will have to awakened shortly,
when the esggons reach their destination. Ahead,
now less than a mile, is the place where the path
into the arroyo country splits off to the left. On the
right, the land runs down a mild slope to the river.
All the drivers keep looking to theeast, toward the
constant darkness that is Thunderclap. They are
watching for an approaching dust-cloud. There is
none. Not yet. Even the seminon winds have fallen
still. Callahan's prayers seem to have been
answered, at least in that regard.


...................................TWO

Ben Slightman, sitting next to Roland on the
bucka's peak-seat, spoke in a voice so low the gun-
slinger could barely hear him. "What will'ee do to
me, then?"
....If asked, when the waggons set out from Calla
Bryn Sturgis, to give odds on Slightman's surviving
this day, Roland might have put them at five in a
hundred. Surely no better. There were two crucial
questions that needed to asked and then
answered correctly. The first had to come from
Slightman himself. Roland hadn't really expected
the man to ask it, but here it was, out of his mouth.
Roland turned his head and looked at him.
....Vaughn Eisenharts foreman was very pale, but
he took off his spectacles and met Roland's gaze.
The gunslinger ascribed...

Someone tapped on Michael's shoulder. It was a gloved hand, he could tell that at the very least. He turned his head away from his book, folding down the corner to mark his page. He shut it closed and stuck it in his pocket on his vest. It was Jacob's. "What are you doing, sir?" the young recruit asked him. Strangely enough, the boy had a grin the size of the Titan. Funny thought, but he discarded it. Michael tapped the pocket the book was in and said, "I was reading a book. But I'm about to take a nap." Jacobs grinned even bigger, if that was even possible. "Alright, sir, I'll leave you alone" he said and stood up straight walking over to the 'Baracks'. Michael watched him go and decided he wouldn't read anymore for a while. He leaned all the way back and rested his head on the crate. Closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of the planet. The fresh air that calmed him, soothed his thoughts, sent him to sleep.