Chapter: 6 Ghost

The papers revealed a lot more than she would have liked, for example, the name of her second-in-command, Sergeant Joseph Bear. A model Marine with eleven years of service to the Corps... Marine Corps... followed by a smooth transfer to the Naval Intelligence, three years there, and then shipped off to fight the Great War. Model soldier. Perfect record.

And... well... that's about it.

The first and last trained soldier, but the rest of her new Platoon? Not so much. The rest were civilians with blowsticks instead of firearms and hand trowels for trench shovels. The document mocked her with line after line of 'Farmhand' followed by 'Clerk,'

'Farmhands, farmhands, farmhands, farmhands, clerks, clerks, clerks... Oh! A fancy name!'

Sergeant Christopher Murphey!

Maybe he's a trained soldier? But the bubble burst with the next couple of lines: "Conscripted Thief." 

Helen stared at the profile of the conscripted thief... real fancy name but he was just a street rat from somewhere in Florida, probably Orlando, likely with more experience picking pockets than picking off enemies.

Whelp, the list continued like a fukin' cruel joke. More farmhands, a couple of nurses (bless their hearts, they were in over their heads), a pair of doctors,

'Lost their way to the local dispensary and accidentally walked into the army recruitment center after having a bit too much to drink the night before?'

And a lone lawman from Texas, probably used to chasing tumbleweeds, not dodging artillery shells.

'Well, isn't this just peachy?'

{Hey, at least you've got a colorful bunch to work with. It'll keep things interesting, right?}

Helen shot a glare at the virtual interface, not in the mood for its attempts at humor.

'Interesting is one way to put it.'

 she grumbled.

'Suicidal might be another.'

{Details, details. Well, you better figure it out quickly. They're your responsibility now,}

The voice of the interface chimed in, sounding even more amused by Helen's predicament,

'Yeah, f*ck you too.'

{Anyway, you got a couple more gifts too. A Fiction-Soldier Card! Well... it's more of a summoning/absorbing card, you can absorb some of the soldier's aptitude and abilities in exchange for accessing your memories... briefly.}

'Ahhh... how about, no!?'

{Your choice. Just remember that you are missing out on a lot of physical augmentation and a capable soldier.}

Now that she thought about it, Helen didn't really feel like sharing her memories with some stranger but... 'a capable soldier,' was tempting,

'What kind of 'capable' are we talking about?'

{Does the word Simon Riley ring any bells?} 

Helen searched for what? Ten seconds? And then shook her head... or tried to at least,

'Never heard of the man.'

{Well, that's a shame. Ghost is a Tier-2 soldier, boasting an acute sense of stealth and marksmanship abilities bordering superhuman. Think of him as a particularly talented and experienced SAS soldier.}

Helen chuckled,

'The SAS was founded in 1941, about 24 years in the future.'

{Exactly! A soldier from the far future isn't it?}

Helen considered the offer once more, how exactly would she explain an unknown personnel in the middle of a war-hospital? He might be a valuable asset for her possible survival, but the exchange of memories with a total stranger made her uneasy.

{Don't worry, he's got all the identification. As for the memory exchange, well, you do gain access to his abilities. It's a fair exchange, don't you think?}

Helen hesitated, weighing the pros and cons. The potential benefits of having a Tier-2 soldier and a physical augmentation. And the con would be someone else delving into her memories.

She decided to probe further,

'What happens to my memories during this exchange?'

{They're sort of in a documentation mode. He would have access to them as a one-time tape recording, but it will wear off soon enough.}

'And he won't snoop around in my hand?'

She asked doubtfully.

{Well, it's not in his best interest to dig around. He's got his own memories and skills to deal with. Just think of it as a symbiotic exchange of skill and memories.}

Helen sighed, hesitant and not entirely convinced. The offer was tempting, but she didn't really like the idea of someone in her head. In the end, she conceded,

'Fine, let's do it.'

{Excellent choice. I will start the exchange process right away.}

Helen took another deep breath, flinching at the pain spreading to her ribs, maybe her wound was opening again?

The interface blinked furiously before a flurry of strange sensations washed over her, memories flooded her mind, images, thoughts, feelings, and a flood of pain. She saw through the eyes of this Simon fellow, it was both exhilarating and disorienting, like being caught in a blender.

And... well... she fainted right after.

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That day, and that night, she woke up twice more, just in time for the regular checkup with the nurse Rita, and the attending doctor, Dr Richcar. 

He was a strapping young man, in his late thirties with short blond hair and deep black eyes. A perfect young man except for one little defect, his legs. He lost his right leg a couple of weeks back in an artillery bombardment and had just recently re-started his trade in a wheelchair. 

Dr. Richcar had some real bad news for her, the injury was centered around her lower abdomen and he had to remove the... 'reproductive' organ due to some surgical complication. Still, at least there she won't be getting any more periods, not to mention it was enough that she was alive and well, not listed in the ranks of casualties.

As soon as she was alone again... she fainted once more.

'You're taking this awfully well, aren't you?'

And there, before her very eyes, stood a figure half-hidden in the darkness of her subconsciousness. A tall male, roughly 6' 2", dressed in all black, and his face covered under a black balaklava,

'And you're in my head.'

The figure paused before continuing,

'You died what, less than 24 hours ago? And woke up in the middle of the First World War, remarkably composed, I must say.'

Helen simply repeated,

'You're in my head.'

The figure seemed puzzled, but still, he nodded his head,

'Yep. And you're in my body. Well, sort of.'

Helen stared at the mysterious figure, unable to discern much about him except for the piercing look in his concealed eyes and a sense of slight unease.

'You are Simon?'

'Call me Ghost. It's as good a name as any.'

'Fair enough,'

She nodded,

'What's the deal with the memory exchange?'

'Simple. You need an augmentation, I need a new place to haunt.'

'Haunt?'

She questioned,

'Well, occupy might be a better term, I don't have a body of my own at the moment, so I'm renting yours. Don't worry, I won't cramp your style.'

Helen groaned in a mixture of confusion and irritation, she could do that now, apparently, her wounds didn't follow her to the subconsciousness. Having someone else in her head, even if temporarily, was not something she had on her bucket list,

'How long do you plan on sticking around?'

'Until we can find a way to separate or until one of us kicks the bucket, maybe until you find me a new body. Whichever comes first.'

'Fantastic. Just what I needed.'

'Look at the bright side, you've got amazing ol' me at your disposal.'

Helen couldn't argue with that, it wasn't really a unique advantage, there were lots of people who heard voices in their heads. But being sane, and the voice in her head being sane too, was a rather unique case.

'So, what can you do?'

Simon, or rather Ghost, chuckled, a sound that echoed in her mind,

'Nothing! Absolutely nothing until you find me a body. Remember to find a fit one, preferably a tall one with wavy blond hair and a handsome face.'

Helen stared at the phantom, a flicker of anger sparking in within her chest,

'So, I'm stuck with you in my head, and you're useless until we find you a new body?'

Ghost chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth,

'Look on the bright side, Captain. You've got the legendary Ghost at your disposal. Think of it as an... upgrade?'

'An upgrade that can't even hold a spoon,'

Helen retorted, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Ghost's amusement faded,

'Not yet, Captain. But trust me, when I'm back in the game, you'll be glad to have me around. Now, let's talk about this body situation. Any ideas?"

'We'll... figure something out, I guess...'

She replied, resigning to her current situation.

*^*^*^*