Point of Documentation: Marshall, Phoenix 11

The path to this nearby town was something akin to a goat trail. Cadence had explained it was next to impossible to establish well-traveled roads and paths like they were used to for locations out in the Badlands. Most of the larger paths were pre-Fall and dated back to before things fell apart. These lead to city and village ruins that now harbored either Voidlings, Raiders, or mutated people in hiding. Sometimes all of the above, each of them scraping out a section of the ruins for themselves. The paths themselves were sometimes even the homes of raiders, which just made far too much sense to Marshall. The best place to attack a convoy or traveler was on the way, not the destination.

Years prior to this was a memory of a patrol he had to go out on. The ship he served on at the time, the Judicator’s Triumph, was nothing more than a frigate with some supporting scout fighters that they piloted. There was a crew of close to thirty pilots that manned the scouts in turns; the dual-seated scout fighters only numbering ten. Spare pilots were typically brought on rather than spare fighters for some reason or another. Marshall couldn’t remember as he reminisced about his training days, but instead was reminded of his time in the cockpit with another. Her blue-dyed hair with a black strip at the back she always seemed to miss.

His mind must have wandered too far, as he tripped over a piece of broken concrete from the broken back-road they were walking on. Cadence turned, seeming to be mid-stride of crossing over a pothole that shared the same genes with a lake, and looked him over. Her gaze was judgmental, but not overly hostile. It was obvious to Marshall that Cadence cared for him very little, but for the life of him, he could not figure out why. That was the reason he felt so surprised when she spoke to him again with a question.

“So, Outlander -Marshall, was it?-, what was it like flying in one of those sky-coffins?” Her words came out in the same tone as she always carried, no extra malice added from her gaze prior. Marshall raised an eyebrow at this, to which Cadence shrugged and turned back to the walk while saying “I was just curious is all. You don’t see them much outside the United Coalition or the rare Roman Bombard coming to level a city.”

Ah, so it was simple curiosity was it? Her wording put a question in his mind, but he snuffed it down. “It was… fun. Exhilarating, even. I’d never felt as free as I did the day I was finally accepted into the Academy. They started me out on the scout planes, and eventually I went up to a striker-class fighter. I was preparing for a promotion in the next year to a gunboat-class fighter, but…” His words trailed off and a heavy feeling hung in the air as the unspoken fact loomed.

Cadence made an odd noise with her mouth that sounded like a click before she spoke. “Sounds neat. Going from the smallest up to the biggest. Sounds like what happens down here too.” She gave a shrug and started to mantle over a tree that lay across the road. It didn’t seem to have been down long, and even had a red ribbon wrapped around one of the branches. Marshall hadn’t paid too much mind, but he noted that the farther they got from towns and cities, the more lively the area felt. They could have also been traveling closer to the wall, but it was hard to tell through the geography that he barely knew.

“Uh… kinda. Scout-class fighters were actually pretty large for what they were. You had a pilot and the co-pilot. One would work the scanners and navigation for the day, and the other would fly. It was double the size of an interceptor, but only boasted a single laser mount that required the sensors to be turned off before it could be fired. The batteries on those things were… well, underwhelming.” A small sigh escaped his lips as he thought of it. “The interceptor-class was a one-seated fighter, however. It could defend itself pretty well, but was mainly built to hit first and blow things up. My striker-class was a two-seater, but the second seat was in the rear of the fighter. I had a partner… but they didn’t end up making it down to Terra with me.”

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Cadence made no move to comfort him, but just looked back at him. Not a judgmental look, but one that seemed to be more studying than anything. It didn’t make Marshall feel better; even if Marshall wasn’t looking for pity. Cadence just seemed more curious than caring.

Marshall looked around at the scenery as they continued along the road. It was becoming less and less like the flat-ish, desolate scene that he was used to and more of a forested area that still held some green in the browning leaves. The road curved up ahead and blocked some sight of what was around the corner. He wondered how much longer of a walk they really had to do at this point, as it had already been an hour’s hike on this destroyed road into the hills.

His thoughts were broken when Cadence spoke again, her back to him as they walked. “I started my career in the mills, and eventually got a spot on a Skid. Think a scrap-gather rover built from a pre-Fall military vehicle. Thing was used to gather materials and haul them back from just outside the Wall. We had a crew of ten that ran with us, and my brother and sister were in that mix. By the time I changed professions, the crew was five. I moved to making fire-arms and repairing vehicles for the city attached to the Wall where I’m from. When my brother died, I met the Captain.” She stopped and Marshall could see her shake her head and heard a chuckle. “I know what it’s like to lose people, even if you cushy Outlanders claim we’re unfeeling savages down here.”

Marshall was slightly stunned at her words. Only slightly, that is. He had thought the same thing when he first came here. He would make contact with the savage Terra-bound humans and get off the planet as fast as possible. It had been told to him as an undisputed fact that the Terrans were all stuck in the past and fighting a lonely fight to stay alive. So much so that they didn’t even want the help of the Castle’s own. And yet… here he was: redefining what he had thought each minute of the day since he had been here. Even with that… it still stung to know that the Terrans knew how much those above looked down on those below.

He was about to speak and reply to her when Cadence held up a hand to stop. They were nearing the bend in the road when they came to a stop, nearly fifty feet from it. Cadence seemed to go rigid, but Marshall couldn’t see what she was so worried about.

That soon faded as Marshall took a slow, painful step up to her and looked where her head was aimed.

A horse lay on its side in a divot a few feet past the road, not moving or breathing. Beside it lay the lower portion of a person with some kind of satchel about their waist where it once hung off them from a strap. The upper portion, however, was not present with the lower. Instead, it was currently in the mouth of a monstrosity the size of a pony and the shape of a dog with its mouth extending half way down its throat. The black, swirling skin rippled as it chewed on the man's shoulders, the head already seeming to have been consumed. The Voidling seemed to revel in the kill, thrashing the body around as it broke apart the shoulders and ribs for easier consumption.

Cadence looked to Marshall, who could see the fear palpable in her eyes. He must have looked the same, for he felt a pit in his stomach starting to form. Marshall looked to the bend and tried to go through what they could do. The village was supposed to be not more than a mile up the road, and yet this thing was here? Could they go around, possibly through the woods? Maybe even–

A hand came from Cadence and motioned to go back. Marshall hesitated for a moment before backing up a couple slow, agonizing steps. When he had taken two steps back, Cadence began to back up as well. They took a shared two more steps before the worst thing happened: the wind changed directions.

The still air that lightly stirred around them from down the hill shifted and began blowing up the hill instead. The Voilding stopped its action and turned towards where they stood, causing both Marshall and Cadence to freeze for a moment. A silence hung in the air that stretched for several seconds as the two groups looked at each other. As if it was waiting to see who would take the first move.

Whether it was out of fear or lack of training: Cadence grabbed for her rifle. That was enough to cause the Voidling to drop its kill and howl an ungodly howl. It leveled its head and began to charge on them.

Marshall fucking hated these unnatural Hell-spawn.