Chapter 18: Action Figures

Night had fallen over the forest, fireflies flitting between trees and crickets chirping in tune with one another and the rest of the Faewood’s chorus of insects. The green light of the half-full moon shone down between the leaves, replacing the earlier umber sunlight with a viridian hue. Michael was just now beginning to wake up, based on the rustling Hoplite could hear in the tent. Lance had perched back up in the tree again once they finished speaking, still looking down on the valley below. She had said that she didn’t have to sleep tonight, as again, elves only needed two hours of rest a week on average. A serious benefit for keeping watch… as Hoplite was beginning to grow weary again. How many days had he gone without sleep this time? He shook his head, it was time to get some rest…

He would be removing his armor as well, he needed to get cleaned. He turned and entered the flap, right as a scream of terror tore through the nighttime peace. Michael stared wide-eyed at nothing, scrambling away on all fours to back himself further into the tent, continuing to scream in sheer fright.

“Marine!” Hoplite yelled, moving toward the naked man's side.

“Dark!” He screamed, eyes bulging as his head darted this way and that “Dark! It stinks-” He gagged “I can’t-” His breathing quickened then “It’s so dark! Get me out please!”

Michael then began tearing at the canvas wall he had backed into in an attempt to breach it and make it outside. Hoplite quickly bumped his chin then, engulfing Michael in a brilliant white light. The marine froze suddenly, his hyperventilation slowing fraction by fraction until Lance rushed in through the tent, long daggers drawn and face hard.

When she saw what was happening she let out a breath, sheathing her daggers and picking up Michael’s discarded blanket. She then walked over to the marine, wrapping it around Michael’s shoulders with a sigh as the marine hugged himself.

Hoplite put a hand on Michael’s shoulder “Get a hold of yourself private.” Hoplite said as gently as he was able “I can leave the light on for you, it can stay on even when I’m not wearing the helmet.”

Michael nodded slowly after a moment, looking up to Hoplite “That’d be nice sir, thank you…” He rasped “I… When I woke up, I thought I was back there, in the pod…” He gagged “Just gimme a minute… here…”

Lance looked to Hoplite, her brows knit together and lips drawn in a tight line. She looked concerned, as was Hoplite. This wasn’t good, there would likely be missions in the future that would require them to hide in the dark, or simply sleep without any light… Well, they would need to work on getting him adjusted to normal levels of darkness again, it was as simple as that… right? Hoplite wasn’t sure, he wasn’t a trained psychologist… It was the best he could think of though.

Michael shuddered as if he were freezing cold, scrunching up his nose while wiping at his skin as if something horrid clung to it. He gagged occasionally, shaking as he continued to wipe his skin and stare off into nothing. Soon, his hyperventilation calmed into an even rhythm, and he stopped wiping his skin and began breathing through his nose once more. He leaned back in the light, his shadow copying the motion in the helmet’s light.

“...Thank ya kindly.” Michael said after a long sigh.

Lance suddenly stood up, and Michael looked at her with a frown “Whatsup?” He asked her, eyes shifting to the still-lit helmet before back to her.

“I’ll be right back, I have an idea but I’ll need to run down to the camp and get something.” Lance said “Don’t worry, no one will see where I came from.”

Hoplite paused for a moment before giving a nod. He had a feeling that he knew exactly what she was going to do.

“Great, be back soon!” She said giddily as she darted out of the tent flap.

A moment of silence passed between the two men until Michael said “I’ll get over it sir. I just gotta have some time… Ya know to… just get over it. Time’s the best healer right?”

Hoplite nodded “I believe so. Will this be a problem for future missions?”

Hoplite knew that it would, but it felt appropriate to ask anyway. Michael frowned, leaning forward and blowing out his lips with a long exhalation.

“Probably sir. Not gonna lie.” He said, his eyes darkening “Just… don’t take me out at night, I’ll be fine during the day but… well, I don’t think I’m ready for the dark yet.”

Hoplite nodded, removing his helmet and placing it against the wall of the tent. Michael looked up into Hoplite’s face then, his eyes widening.

“Wow… Do you all got eyes like that?” Michael asked him.

Hoplite blinked in confusion before replying “Yes.”

That wasn’t what he thought Michael would say upon seeing his face. Hoplite had been expecting him to bring up the fact that he was now growing hair on his head and face. Hoplite himself had been more fascinated by that; considering that he hadn’t felt hair on his head since before his first deployment in the field. His golden eyes had been with him ever since his first infusion… he didn’t even remember what they used to look like anymore, they were just something that always was at this point; something he took for granted.

“So… while we wait for Lance to get done with whatever she’s doin’...” Michael began nervously “Can ya tell me how the hell you managed to merk an Admech?”

Hoplite blinked in surprise, that had been about one-hundred and fifty years ago now… looked like it was still being talked about among the troops if Michael knew about it. Should he tell the marine about what really happened that day? Well… simply talking seemed to be calming Michael down a fair margin.

Hoplite took a deep breath before he began “I was lost in the forests of Caliston after an op went bad.” Hoplite explained, receiving a nod from Michael. That day had been a nightmare for him… three Hoplites dead and countless other soldiers with them… all save for Hoplite himself.

“The admech had killed everyone on the squad sent to destroy it, all save for me.” He told Michael, causing the young marine to lean forward expectantly “I survived because I got separated from the main group, my pod and the squad with me flew off our target destination by fifty miles.”

Hoplite paused “That was what saved our lives initially. The admech had a lock on both our pods in the atmosphere, and would have fired on my shuttle if everything had gone to plan.” Hoplite said “The Hoplites in the targeted shuttle… were vaporized in an instant. We never even saw where it shot from.” He said, clenching his fist tightly. He had known those Hoplite’s since the training days beneath Commander… He softened his features as much as he could once he saw Michael flinch from his expression “I wasn’t wearing this Phalanx model at the time, adium plates were still in development so I wore the standard titanium alloy version. Still should have been enough for the mission, four Hoplites and two squads of marine support crews to take out the admech while it slept…”

Michael gulped “But it wasn’t asleep.” The marine said quietly.

Hoplite shook his head “It wasn’t.”

He took another deep breath “We had thought it was, after an admech purges a world they tend to shut down for a brief period of time… command thought we would be able to disable it after it destroyed Caliston’s human population… but it woke up sooner than expected.” Hoplite explained, narrowing his eyes as he remembered the horrid biomechanical monster coming upon him and the marine squad attached to him.

“It found us soon after we crashed… It was a massacre private.” Hoplite said, lifting his chin to stare at the ceiling of the tent “The marines with me didn’t stand a chance. I didn’t stand a chance…” A feeling of frustration bubbled within him as he remembered just how he had ‘defeated’ the admech.

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Michael leaned forward even further “Sir? I don’t get it, if ya didn’t stand a chance, how’d ya beat it?”

Hoplite shook his head, looking down to stare into Michael’s eyes with a hard gaze “I didn’t. It shut down before it killed me… and I killed it then.” Hoplite said “It hadn’t really shut down yet when the mission was planned… but it had reached that point after finding us.” Hoplite’s face hardened further “I got lucky, and the Ternan military spun it as Hoplite superiority to Final Kind super-soldiers, but that isn’t the truth.”

Michael gasped and sat up straight “So ya didn’t actually kill one?”

Hoplite shook his head “No, I did kill it. But it couldn’t fight back…”

The frustration was not from denying the Final Kind super-soldier a fair fight, Hoplite knew that no such thing existed in war. He was frustrated from the constant praise heaped onto him by officials and troops that didn’t know the real truth of the mission. Those that did know the truth kept their mouths shut about it, and let Hoplite continue to get praise he simply didn’t deserve. At least it was just the soldiery that thought he destroyed it. Hoplite could understand the reasoning for allowing the idea of his victory to spread… It was a huge morale boost for the troops. He shouldn’t have cared about such things… but the praise and awe irritated him for a reason he could never explain.

A leftover vestige of humanity within him? No, he was a Hoplite. A tool. A thing, just as Commander had always said. So why did Hoplite let it bother him so much? He didn’t know…

“Well, considering that those alien freaks only had five of em’ I still think it’s cool you gotta kill one at least.” Michael said, flashing a thumbs up “Hell, I still think you’re cool. You know that there’s action figures of you right? Or at least there were…” Michael continued, scratching his beard “Had one when I was a kid even, you had bendin’ limbs and all that, but you were wearing your classic suit.”

Hoplite stared, his eyes going wide.

“...What?” He asked, a strange, uncomfortable feeling welling within his chest and spreading to his face.

“Yeah dude. You don’t get it sir, you were famous; ya had songs about you, movies, and like I said, action figures.” Michael told him in a tone that grew more excited the more he went on “How haven’t you heard of that? I think everyone knows who you are. I mean every person from every world, you were taught about in school and everythin’. Used as an example that the Final Kind’s strongest soldiers still pale in comparison with our own.”

Hoplite blinked “I… We- that is to say, Hoplites stay frozen when not in use, private.” He explained his face growing increasingly warm at the new information being fed to him. What was this feeling? He did not like it “And we aren’t allowed to watch media of any kind. We have to stay focused on what we are.”

Was that… was that why people stared at him in awe rather than avert their gazes as they did with most other Hoplites he had seen? He was taught about in schools? He shook his head. Clearly Michael had hit his head… and then Twindil had healed it and it sealed together wrong… or… or something! Hoplite had been told that it was only talked about to military staff, had they lied to him? He hadn’t cared when the Fiendwallers had heaped praise on him as a hero, so why should this information bother him so much?

Action figures.

“Oh yeah.” Michael said with a nod of his head “You’re a celebrity bro.”

Hoplite shook his head “Negative.”

Michael laughed “Positive sir, absolutely positive. Beside’s, it's not like killin’ the admech was the only thing yer known for.”

A long silence passed between the two men then, both losing themselves in their own thoughts before the quiet was interrupted by the appearance of Lance through the flap of the tent. That strange feeling in his chest and the warmth in his face still persisted though… She was holding a glass jar in her hand, a dozen fireflies flitting here and there within. A gentle glow seeped through the glass as Lance approached Michael, handing him the jar when he stretched out his hands to take it.

The young marine smiled at the little insects gently flying about, moving back over to his bedroll and tucking himself back in, keeping the jar of insects next to his head.

“Thank’s… guess girls with cosmetics ain’t all that bad after all…” Michael said, his voice drowsy.

Lance stared with a furrowed brow as Michael passed out, the exhaustion he felt apparently being too much for his body to handle; likely the earlier adrenalin rush had burnt out, and he had begun to crash hard. Lance then looked to Hoplite, reading his eyes before he could look away and lifting a confused eyebrow.

“You’re embarrassed?” She asked him, surprised “Why?”

“Negative.” Hoplite said simply “I… just need to rest.”

He was embarrassed earlier? Preposterous… right? Either way, he really did need to get some rest. The bags beneath his eyes were beginning to weigh heavy. He reached over to his helmet, clicking it off and seeing the little fireflies in Michael’s jar dancing more clearly. The glow cast dancing shadows against the floor of the tent it surrounded. He needed to remove his armor first… he could sleep in it, but he needed to take care of other needs later and it would need to be removed for that to happen.

So he put his helmet back on, and bumped his chin, the sections of his armor clicking free for removal. Lance began backing out of the tent when she saw what was going on; likely still uncomfortable with his nudity.

“Thank you for your assistance.” Hoplite told her.

Lance turned to smile at Hoplite “Of course my friend.”

And then she was gone out of the tent flap. Removing the rest of the armor was a simple process, the part he dreaded was putting it all back on later… Perhaps Michael could help him with that in the morning? Once he was free of the plate, he moved the individual sections to one corner of the tent and tucked himself into his own bedroll once he was finished.

He stared up at the ceiling of the tent for a long while before sleep took him. His last thoughts being of his trainer… Commander.

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