Keep Your Humanity

December 25th, 2513
Eridanus II
0646 Hours
"Hey Tim, what day is it?"
"Um...I don't know. Hang on."
As his comrade Tim Roberts started fiddling with his assault pack, looking for a flashlight so he could take a look at his watch, former Eridanus People's Republic infantyman Gregory Dawson sighed, looking out of the tiny hideaway amongst the rocks at the snow falling outside. Turning his sight back to Tim, he asked "Got anything?". "Uh-huh. It's December 25th." he responded. "Christmas." Dawson thought solemnly as he looked at his friends. 
Despite what help had been given to them by members of the Eridanus Colonial Resistance, everyone looked like they were on the verge of death. In the light of the flashlight, Dawson could see Tim's face. His cheeks, adorned with bandages from where a United Nations Space Command bullet had found its mark, were sunken. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he was pale like a ghost. While he could not see how the rest of the seven looked, he could only assume they looked equally poor or worse, and silently thanked God he could not see his own what he assumed sorry condition.
Finally, Dawson spoke. "What a helluva way to spend a Christmas. I thought that we'd all be back home on an independent Eridanus. But I guess fate had other plans." he said, his words awakening some of the sleeping rebels. "It's Christmas?" one asked. "Yeah." Dawson responded, and it was obvious the fact it was that date struck a chord with the rebel, who's face took on a look of sadness at Dawson's affirmation. 
"Anyone got any food?" Dawson asked, and a chorus of shaking heads followed.
They were going to die here, Dawson thought. They were cold and starving. And who knew how far the nearest Eridanian who would help seven walking corpses was that they would have to trudge through the bitter cold and snow outside to get to. With shaking hands, and tears streaming down his face, Dawson grabbed a rock from the area the rebels were sitting, and hucked it at a nearby tree. The object made a clunk against the wood as it impacted.
Soon enough after his outburst, Dawson heard an "Over here!", and the rapid crunching of boots on the snow. "No. No, please not here!" he thought as he reached for his shoulder pack. Unbuttoning one of the side pockets, Dawson drew an M6C/SOCOM, pointing it at the entrance to the tiny crevice in the rocks. As his one hand began to shake uncontrollably, Dawson gripped it with his other, taking deep breaths as he attempted to bring himself under control.
As a silhouette came into the sights of his pistol, Dawson tried to pull the trigger. But he could not. It was a UNSC soldier, that was evident from the 'pasta shell' helmet and modern equipment. So he settled for something else. Flipping on the flashlight attached to his pistol, Dawson moved closer to the figure. "Get on your knees Oonskie!" he yelled with a trembling voice. As the enemy soldier turned to face him, Dawson realized that he was not much different from him. The UNSC soldier was no older than twenty, and even through the other's goggles, Dawson could see the same fear that he was sure that shined in his own eyes.
The enemy raised his hands, MA5B rifle in one, nothing in the other. "Reb, it's Christmas. Please." he choked out. "Don't fucking move!" Dawson yelled as the trooper began to move his free hand. But the man did not listen. Grabbing his balaclava, he pulled it down, and brought his goggles onto his helmet. Staring at Dawson, he once again spoke, with a trembling voice "There's no reason to kill tonight. Please, can we just be fellow men for once, and not Innie and Oonskie?"
Slowly squatting to the ground, the UNSC trooper placed his rifle on the ground, and nodded, silently asking Dawson to do the same. He obliged, putting his pistol on the ground. Behind him, Dawson heard the others put their weapons on the ground. Standing stone stiff as more UNSC troops emerged from the blizzard, the rebels waited to be shot dead. But there was going to be no killing tonight. They too placed their weapons down.
Dawson wondered what to do. Taking a few shuffling steps towards the UNSC soldier, he extended his hand. His counterpart took hold of it. "I'm Samuel. You?" he asked as they shook. "I'm Ser-I'm Gregory." he responded. "Do you have any food?" he continued. The UNSC trooper smiled. "Yeah, we do." he responded. "Come on guys." he said to the rest of his unit. As the UNSC personnel entered the rebels' hideaway, Dawson saw the faces of the rebels light up as who was supposed to be their enemy sat down next to them, and they began to talk.
Looking at Roberts, Dawson saw a medic squat next to him, and began tending to his bullet wound. Turning to Samuel, Dawson smiled. "Thank you." he managed to speak. "No, thank you reb. Now you asked if we had food?" Samuel responded as he produced a self-heating MRE. "You got water?" he continued. "Um...ya." Dawson said as he reached and grabbed his canteen, holding it out to the UNSC soldier.
Samuel grabbed it, and poured a bit of the liquid from the olive drab container into a brown plastic package. Taking a grip of the package, Dawson's face lit up as he felt the heat coming off of. "It's...it's a hot meal." he said in excitement. "Thank you." he continued as he sat down. "Is it ready?" he asked.
"Yeah, should be." responded Samuel. With all the patience of a starving man, Dawson opened the package, and, using a plastic spoon that was with it, began eating the contents of the meal, noodles with some meat and vegetables. Despite trying to savor the taste of his first hot food in who-knew-how-long, Dawson went through the meal in a matter of minutes. 
Turning to Samuel, he said again "Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Don't mention it. Here." Samuel responded as he gave several more instant meals to Dawson. "A gift." he continued.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Thank you Samuel. I'm sorry, I don't have anything to give you."
"It's no problem Dawson. Best of luck." Samuel said. Turning to the other UNSC troops, he said "Give them something gents. My best of luck gentlemen. I wish we could share this one day of peace with one another, but our superiors don't find that very tasteful. Let us not meet on the battlefield again."
Category:The Eridanus Runs Red