Chapter Fifteen: The Ideological Rift

The part of the caverns where the realist were standing was no doubt natural. It was a wide open space. There were crates of supplies and machinery piled about, much of it in ruins. mechanics scavanged parts from teh old machines even as Grinder paced up and down infront a ragged line of what might, under the right circumstances, be called troops.
Jonathan was in the group. Marcelle had originally protested his inclusion in the force; he was the only Earthling that could guide them. Jonathan had retorted with the fact that Marcelle was the leader of the Realist colony, and they couldn't afford to lose her either.
Grinder looked up and down the double line of men and women, about twenty-five altogether and took a deep breath. "This could get ugly. But - if we get those records, we might be able to get to win the war with no more fighting - no more killing." The crowd was silent. "We're not going to have any cover, we are our own backup. Stay in your teams, and be careful, damnit! Get in, find the ship and try and get a data modual. Once you have it, radio in, we'll converge and try and make it back here. Everybody in the base will be armed, and our best machines of war" Grinder gestured to one of the contraptions the mechanics were working "will be ready to cover us.
"We cannot take the Idealists on this world. They outgun and outnumber us immensily. But, we don't need to take them. We just need to steal this data from them. You know your jobs." Grinder hoisted a rifle in his hands and started towards what looked like a boulder. He was wearing light combat armour tinted in the earthy brown tones that matched Vaudeveldt's terrain. The rest of the troops, dressed in a mix of different types of armour and carrying a hodge podge of weapons fell in line solemnly behind him.
Jonatan had what felt like a leather tunic and a combat helmet for protection. He was holding an angry looking pistol in his hand and had been issued a knife. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with either, he had never fought before. War was entirely in the history of Earth. After the horrors of the Dstruction, even the minor skirmishes did not have many casualties and were generally solved very quickly.
The boulder rolled aside as if on it'sown - Jonathan had been told that it was actually a hidden door - and they broke into the daylight. It had been months since Jonathan had seen a sun. The one in the sky looked deceptively like Earth's. The light here, Jonathan noted, was not wrong.
Almost immediately, the troops began jogging off towards the horizen. Jonathan moved up to travel with Grinder and Marcelle, at the front of the coloum.
The ran in silence for hours. Where they were going, any kind of vehicle would be noticed far too fast.
Jonathan soon began to realise a flaw in their plan. If they were pursued by a vehicle, they would quickly be overcome. Either Grinder and Marcelle knew something he didn't, or they hadn't thought of it.
A city developed on the horizen, it grew as the time passed. Soon Grinder came to a halt and lifted his rifle to his shoulder, looked through the scope, and pulled the trigger.
Jonathan could not see the effect of the shot, but as soon as it was over, they began running again.
One of the people in the coloum suddenly twisted around and hit the ground. The entier troup dropped to the ground. A woman crawled to the fallen man. she pulled out a medikit and began working on the man.
"He's not good good, sir." She said.
"They're going to send a runner! They know we're here!" one of the men said.
"Relax, Johnson." Grinder said. "Hegel, Reinders, take up sniper positions, stay low, and cover the ground between the city and the yard." Indeed, the troops had been advancing on what looked a like a camp set away from the city. It was the scrap yard.
"What about communications?" Jonathan asked.
"That's what my first shot took care of" Grinder said. Jonathan nodded.
"they know we're coming, lads," Grinder said, "but we have the advantage still, because the city doesn't know we're here. Move carefully." Grinder went into a crounch, then sprung forward in a sprint. This time, Jonathan heard the shots coming from the yard ahead of them and a few of the people behind him. he ran with grinder, forward.
It was not an easy task, Jonathan had never been under fire before.
the scrapward was surrounded by a corrugated steel wall. It was topped with barbed wire. There was one tower by the wide chain-link gate. In the tower, there was the marksman who had shot one of the realists. There were a few other men on a walkwat around the top of the wall. they were not particularily accurate, but they were lyaing down enough fire to make things difficult. Marcelle dropped to the ground, and carefully aimed her rifle. Jonathan saw the shot blast through the thin metal wall and saw the man drop off the platform.
The Idealits moved forwards. It wasn't too long before seventeen of them had their backs pressed up against the metal wall on either side of the gate. There were a number of bodies out on the plains. At the time, Jonathan had no way of knowing whether his compatriots were wounded or dead.
One man wearing particularily heavy armour was cluthing a hand to a large dent and seemed to be winded.
"Are you okay, Gentry?" Grinder asked.
"Just... winded." The man replied.
"Alright, stay here, cover the bodies in the feild. Make sure the Idealist don't try and pick them up."
"Yes sir."
A girl stepped forward - yes, Jonathan though, a girl. She coulnd't have even been eigteen years old. She had a set of fence clippers in her hand. She went to work on the gate, creating a hole in on the edge of the chain link.
Marcelle was first in line through the hole. She dove and rolled behind an old oil drum. Covered by their leader, the men and women slowly made their way in and took defensive positions inside the gate. A few people stayed outside with Gentry to cover the feild.
Grinder gave teh silent command to move out in teams. Jonathan paired up with Marcelle and a man he had been introduced to as 'Buck'. Jonathan liked Buck, he had had a chance to talk to him before they shipped out. There was some sort of deep sadnedd in the man's eyes, though.
they began working through the large compound slowly, trying to locate the ruins of the ship. There was no doubt that they would be about somewhere.
Jonathan was astounded by the sheer number of ruined hulks in the yard. There were a number of space craft, miltary vehicles and various machines of any sort. They all sat, broken, burnt and rusted, in some cases sinking into the ground.
"They gaurd this pile of junk because they're afraid we're going to steal useable materials form them." Marcelle explained before Jonthan asked. "It used to be a big pile of garbage out on the plains, before we discovered the truth about the universe. Then they put up the big fence to gaurd their trash."
They moved slowly and quietly, checking behind parts and around corners carefully, just to make sure Idealist weren't waiting to ambush them.
A quick message over the headset radio said "Tower secure. Taking up covering position."
The yard was quiet. The only sounds were those of the boots crunching on the dry soil beneth the feet of the realists.
Not too long after the last message, another one was sent. "Third team - we've located the wreck. Request rendezvous near the north-eastern corner of the complex. Commencing search for data modual."
"That's our que." Marcelle said. She bagan moving towards the ship with Jonathan and Buck in tow.
They came across a small building on the interior of teh complex. Marcelle raised a finger to her mouth to indicate quiet. She backed herself up agaisn teh wall beside the door and listened hard. It sounded quiet inside, but she knew better than to trust that. She motioned with her hand towards Buck, telling him to go in the building.
He walked in the door and dissapeared inside the building. After a few moments, Jonathan heard a quiet sob from inside the building.
"They told me you were dead," a small voice said. Jonathan risked a peek inside the door. Marcelle was still standing with her back against the wall on the other side. The quick glance revealed a lot of important information to Jonathan. there was an idealist inside the building. She was behind buck, holding a pistol to his head. It was on an upward angle, because the woman was shorter than he was. Buck had his hands raised in the air. the woman was crying.
"I'm not dead, sweetie." He whispered.
"Where have you been? Why did they take you?" The woman cried. "They told me you were dead!" she spat out the word dead as if it gave her a vile taste in her mouth.
"Sweetie, things are changing around here. I've seen another way to live."
"You're a realist?" Jonathan heard the voice say.
"Yes."
"You're not my husband." Jonathan heard the ring of a gun shot, and heard a body slump to the floor.
Marcelle immediately peek inside. "Shit," she murmered. "Do you have a clear line of fire?" she wispered at Jonathan.
He nodded.
"Take her out."
Jonathan raised his pistol. He'd never even imagined killing somebody before. With a shaking hand, he raised it around the corner. The woman kneeling over the body of Buck, looking at him, weeping. Her hands were in her face, and tears were falling on the body of her fallen husband.
Jonathan looked are Marcelle, his eyes pleading. He didn't want to kill her.
Marcelle stepped into the room and clubbed the woman in the head with the butt of her gun. The woman slumped to the ground, but she was still breathing. Marcelle looked at Jonathan's shocked face. "She murdered her own husband over an idea, Jonathan. It's better than she deserved." She said bitterly. "Buck was a good man."