Chapter 12

15:15 20th October 2552 (Military calendar)

Shimanzi Underground fuel depot.

New Mombassa West

The complex was quiet. he covenant had not attacked for over half an hour. Duncan would occasionally shoot something down the alleys and road, but nothing serious enough to spur the entire troop into action. Not just yet at least. Rachel found herself sitting against the wall next to the front door of the building she sniped from. The warm mid afternoon sun was moving over in favour of the thick clouds that loomed in the distance. Rachel sat there, like a lot of the other marines, eating their MREs'.

Having not eaten in over eight hours, her chicken breast and cornbread stuffing tasted remarkably nice. Once she was done, she discarded the wrapper on the floor and took out a poor looking cigarette from its packet. Bent, but surprisingly still intact. She smoothed it out and lit it from the match that came with her MRE. She puffed away on her cigarette in thought for a few minuets, watching the clouds creep ever closer.

"Do you think we scared them off?" Asked a nearby marine to his friend. His eyes nervously darting around the road the covenant had attacked from.

"Too right!" His friend confidently announced. "They saw how bad-ass we are, and turned tail! Probably gone to cry to their prophets." He laughed.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that if I were you." Rachel announced from her sun-speckled corner.

"And what makes you say that? Pilot." The arrogant marine asked, putting special emphasis on her rank.

Rachel ignored his insulting tone and stood to her feet. "Have you not once read the intel reports from the other colonies? From ONI? Or is your head so far up your arse that you fail to accept the facts?"

The marine's friend gave a low whistle at her words and chuckled at his friend. The bitter marine, who was sat on a supply case, shot his friend a look of hate before trying to stare down Rachel. Rachel drew on her cigarette before continuing.

"The Covenant never retreat. They never back down and surrender. You better keep your wits about you. Private. Or You'll be getting tea-bagged by an elite before you know it."

The friend laughed at this but received a swift punch to the stomach by his seated team mate.

"You think your so smart don't you pilot?" He said as he stood up, ignoring his friend's gasps for air. He walked over to her and stood only a foot away from her. Rachel stood up to confront him. He was easily a head taller than her, and of a broader build too. He jabbed Rachel's armour in the chest and sneered at her. "You fly-boys keep your eyes on the sky, and do your job of ferrying real troops to where they need to go."

Rachel's eyes narrowed at his words. Despite the marine being taller and stronger than she was, she didn't feel the least bit intimidated. She batted his hand away from her and looked directly in his eyes. "I'll remember you." She said. "You had better remember me. Because next time you need an evac... I might just leave you there. See how well your swollen balls work on the enemy." The butch marine's face showed a hint of concern behind his stone features, although he did well at not showing it. Rachel didn't let him say another word. She turned and walked away before he could retort. The man spat at the ground, following her with his eyes as she walked out into the open courtyard.

While Rachel surveyed the scorched and peppered scene ahead of her she retraced her thoughts back to the academy. How there was always tension between the marine and naval corps. 'Fly boys do the flying, marines just do the dying.' They used to say with spite. True, the Naval corps spent most of their time in the air, away from most of the fire. But the 'fly boys' did their fair share of dying too. Did that marine not know that the odds in space are 3:1 in favour of the Covenant? Asshole She thought. He had no idea what her and her colleagues went through. Maybe he should have been in the crash when she was. Then maybe he'd have a bit more respect.

She pushed the thoughts of the marine aside, knowing that he wasn't worth her time. Her eyes drifted from one Covenant corpse to the next, wondering what their home worlds were like, and what kind of creatures they would have been before they joined the Covenant they have been peaceful? Swayed by lies to help the other Covenant gain an advantage? Who joined first? And what sparked the attack on the whole human race? These were questions that no one knew, and the last question was one that every human being had asked more than once; Why us?

After about ten minutes of pacing around with her thoughts, Rachel was pulled back to her current surroundings by the sound of vehicles approaching. The sound was unmistakable - Warthogs. She looked around at the rest of the defence team to see that they too heard the noise, and were all staring in the general direction of the sound. Some marines got to their feet or walked towards it a few paces. Two members of the squad ran ahead to the road to get a better view. Both of them were of a higher rank. Probably a captain and lieutenant, Rachel figured. She decided to investigate also, and half jogged to a group who had assembled by the road-side too. The two officials were about ten feet ahead when the first Warthog rounded the corner. then another, and another. The lead vehicle came to a steady halt beside the higher ranks and introduced them selves, while the other two Warthogs fell in behind the first.

Rachel took a step forward, intrigued by the back up that had arrived. Her curiosity paid well. For as the occupants exited their vehicles, she saw a familiar face hobble out from behind the last car. A tall man who had been driving that particular Warthog jogged round to meet her and took her arm around his shoulder, helping her to the curb. Rachel's adrenaline spiked and her heart rate increased. She ran towards the hobbling woman, past the officers who glanced at her in confusion as she called out to her friend.

"Nikki!" Cried Rachel, as she sprinted forward. Nicole only had a second to lift her head before Rachel was upon her.

"Rachel!" Nicole gasped in surprise. "Jesus, I'm so glad you're alive!" She sighed as she embraced the spontaneous hug Rachel had just put on her. Mike instantly ducked out of the way and smiled at them both. He didn't say anything. Instead he decided it was best to leave them to it, and help unload the convoy. Nicole held Rachel's head close to hers and together they swayed a little.

"I'm relived to see your ok too." The pair raised their heads and looked at each other.

"I'm ok," Nicole announced. "Apart from a plasma burn to the leg. But I'll be fine in a day or two."

"We'll get you to the medical tent then. They will patch you up proper." Rachel told her as she broke from the now loose hug. She took Nicole's arm and put it over her shoulder to support her.

"We found your Pelican by the way. What happened?"

"EMP." Rachel told her as she helped Nicole walk. "That Carrier's slip space rupture caused a huge shock wave that killed my controls. Thankfully I missed the water, or I would have sunk like a brick." She looked puzzled for a moment. "Speaking of birds, wheres your Longsword?"

"Safe. I hope." Replied Nicole. "At Fell's Garrison."

"Fell's Garrison? I was temporarily stationed there. On paper, I still am! Did they survive the attack? I got word that they had been engaged by the enemy."

"Overwhelmed more like." Nicole's face was grim. "Mike and I were there to help hold off the first attack, but they came back in force while we were off on a bombing run."

While the two pilots made their way to the medical tent, the rest of their convoy comrades were busy talking to the lieutenants.

"It's a good thing you got here when you did." The lieutenant told Amy. "The unusual silence is concerning, but with your warthogs' and supplies, we can take advantage of this momentary cease fire, and rebuild our defences." He looked to the junior lieutenant by his side and gave him a nod. The junior LT turned on his heel and briskly walked over to a nearby group of marines, issuing orders and pointing at sandbags. "I need your 'hogs unloaded, and two of them positioned by the forward barricades." Continued the lieutenant. "The last one I'd like you to put on scout duty. Back the way you came, doing a wide circle around the area. If things kick off, they are to head back here and hold this rear entrance."

Amy snapped a crisp salute to the CO, and her squad did the same.

"Consider it done, sir." She said. The lieutenant gave her and her team a slight nod, before turning his back on them and walking back towards the complex. Amy faced her crew, all of them eagerly awaited her orders. "Joe, Louise," She called. Her two friends were close to Laura's warthog, with Laura stood right next to it. "You two unload the 'hogs. Once they are empty, accompany Laura and and Mike to the forward barricades."

"You got it K." Acknowledged Joe. He and Louise began unstrapping the weapons and ammunition, ready to be collected by a few waiting marines. Amy turned her attention to her last two squad mates, who since the lieutenant had left them, were now casually leaning their backs against their warthog.

"Pete." She said, stepping up to them.

"Ma'am." He replied with a smile.

"Your my best and fastest driver." She told him. " I can't entrust anyone else for this task." She looked to Chris next. "As ever Chris, you'll be by his side." Her eyes looked over them both for a few seconds. A hint of concern emerging on her face. finally, she swallowed a small lump that had developed in her throat, and wished them luck. "Look after each other out there. And come back in pone piece, okay?"

"You can count on us Amy." Pete reassured. Chris chuckled as he climbed up to the turret.

"Yeah Amy, don't fret." Chris told her. "We'll find out what the coo is and be back in an hour."

"Make it less than that." Amy urged. "I don't want you two out there any longer than you need to be. Find out what's going on, then get your asses back here."

"No problem." Said Pete, climbing into the driver's seat and starting the engine. Amy forced a smile as she watched Pete turn the warthog on a dime, and drove towards the end of the road. She only looked away once Pete and Chris had turned left onto the main road and out of sight.

The warthog crept cautiously along the highway, like a timid horse being coaxed forward by its rider. Chris was forever turning his turret this way and that, keeping an eye out for any Covenant movement. Nothing in their area moved, other than the odd banshee or phantom that glided overhead, which for some reason, refused to engage them.

"Here comes another one." Chris told Pete. "Shall I let it pass, or take it down?"

Pete looked up from the road and buildings, to the sky and the lone banshee that was heading in their general direction. He briefly studied the angle of the craft and noticed that it was not dipped in a dive. Pete brought his eyes forward to the road again, and without another glance, he told Chris not to engage.

They're not interested in us bro." He said to Chris. "Shooting at it will only bring shit our way. Try not to use your gun until it's absolutely necessary." The Overhead banshee passed by quickly, without so much as gesturing a twitch towards them. Chris resisted the urge to track the vehicle until it was out of sight, and concentrated on covering Pete's blind spots. Still, nothing on the ground moved. Pete carefully manoeuvred around the odd marine and civilian bodies that lay in the road, yet made no attempt to avoid the Covenant casualties. The hydrogen fueled engine pushed it's large tyres over the alien corpses, splitting armour and crushing bones. The sounds were mildly satisfying to the rocking warthog's occupants, as it trundled forward. Ten minutes later, Chris and Pete heard a commotion up ahead. Pete stopped his vehicle and tried to listen. "Dude," He whispered. "You hearing that?"

Chris leaned forward into the gun stocks, placing an ear between the two armoured defence plates. Within seconds, Chris had heard it too; Covenant shouts of anger, things being thrashed about, and the muffled sounds of aliens dying.

"What the fuck is that?" Chris exclaimed, pulling his face away.

Pete eased his warthog forward again. "That's what we're here to find out." He said, as he drove left and parked up on the pavement. When he cut the engine and jumped out, Chris gave him a perplexed look.

"Pete man, what are you doing?" Pete reached over his seat and unclipped his assault rifle from the passenger foot well.

"The 'hog makes too much noise Chris." He told him. "If we're to get closer, it's going to to have to be on foot." He checked the clip in his rifle before looking up at Chris on the turret. "Did you wanna come with? Or stay here and look after the car?"

Chris jumped down from the gun and smiled at Pete. He unclipped his own rifle from the roll cage and cocked it. "We're a team Pete. I'm not going to let you you run off and have all the fun!" Pete smiled back at his friend, happy to know he's by his side.

"Thanks bro." He laughed. "Although I don't think theres much fun to really be had. Come on, let's find out what these bastards are up to." They left the warthog behind and jogged for a few minutes to the end of the street, where it it split at a T-junction. They pressed their backs against the tall building and crept their way to the corner, with Pete in front. Chris dropped to a knee and scanned the area around them, while Pete poked his head around the corner. Not five seconds had past before Chris felt a tap on his helmet. He looked up to meet Pete's puzzled eyes. Pete jerked his head towards the corner and the two soldiers traded places. Chris cautiously leaned around the bricked corner and was bemused by what he saw.

The sounds of alien commotion had died down, and littered across the road were dozens of Covenant bodies. The majority of the dead appeared to be elites', with some brute bodies nearby. Grunts cowered in doorways, in front of the remaining brutes. One brute in particular stood in the middle of the road, wearing res and black armour, with an elaborate dead dress. In one of it's hands, it held an enormous hammer, the head resting on the tarmac. In the brute's other hand, it had grasped in it's claws, the long neck of an elite. The elite was a Sanghieli commander, clad in gold coloured armour. It's helmet lay scattered a few meter away. Chris noted from his teams intel briefings, that this particular brute was a chieftain - one of the most feared Covenant warriors. The brute snarled in the face of the beaten elite, holding it a few feet off the ground. the Sangheili looked defeated, yet managed to spread it's mandibles and roar back. Before it could fully raise it's four fingered fist, the brute threw its head forward, smashing it's helmet against the elite's face.

The elite's body went limp, now literally dead weight in the iron grip of the brute. It's head fell against it's chest, and Chris could see that it had been caved in from the impact. Dark purple blood ran down it's armour and dripped to the floor. The brute chieftain growled again at it's victim and threw it to the ground. It then turned to another brute nearby and grunted a single word in it's ape-like language. Without moving, that second brute faced the others and nodded. The detained grunts started crying out and screaming as the rest of the brutes slaughtered them. Some simply filled their bodies full of spikes, while others felt content enough to beat them with their arms, clubbing them to death.

Chris heard a loud roar and flicked his eyes to the source. To his horror, he saw the brute chieftain staring at him. Right at him. Through sharp black eyes. It bared it's teeth as it wielded it's hammer in both hands.

"Oh shit!" Chris exclaimed as he ducked out of sight. He legged it past Pete, who had to do a double-take of his friend before giving chase.

"What!" Pete asked, calling out to him. "What happened!"

Chris didn't look back. He ran towards the warthog that waited a short way ahead.

"They saw me Pete! He shouted back. "We've gotta get the fuck outta here!"

"Jesus Chris!"

They ran as fast as they could, trying not to listen to the war cries of the brute not far behind.. Pete and Chris made it back to the warthog in less than a minute, and only once they had climbed in, were they face to face with their new threat.

Six brutes had rounded the corner and were charging their way towards them. The chieftain was leading, holding its mighty hammer at the ready, waiting to smash anything that came within a four foot radius. Pete hastily started the engine and kicked it into reverse. Just in time for Chris to start firing. Chris concentrated his sights on the chieftain, trying to keep the shots level with it's head.

Brute armour had shields similar to the eliets. Only, this brute's shield was different. A dozen rounds from Chris' machine gun had barely hit, when the chieftain's shields flared a blinding white. No matter how many rounds hit the living flare, nothing broke through.

Pete pulled a hand brake turn, spinning the warthogs nose away from the enemy. Spike rounds struck the drivers side and rear as he put the vehicle into drive and tried to put distance between them. After the manoeuvre, Chris swung his turret's attention to a low ranking brute on the left, and fed it a long burst of bullets. It's own shields couldn't stand up to the powerful, armour-piercing rounds, and hit the floor within seconds, easily overwhelmed. Chris mocked the brutes with a small whoop as they sped away, but was swiftly punished by a lucky shot to his left thigh. He fell to the deck and clutched his leg

"Ahh..!" He hissed through clenched teeth. "Rude..!"

Pete took his eyes off the road for a second and glanced back to his friend. He could see the six inch metal spike protruding from his leg, just above the knee.

"Hang in there buddy!" Pete told him. He face the forward again and pushed the accelerator closer to the floor. Like an expert rally driver, Pete swerved around abandoned cars, mounted adjacent sidewalks, and drifted around corners.

Pete brought his wounded team mate back to the complex in record time. His tyres screeched in protest as he rounded the final corner, announcing their arrival to the defending marines. He quickly parked his vehicle in a defensive position and called out for a medic. They arrived moments later, and while they eased Chris onto a stretcher, Amy sprinted over to them. Chris groaned in pain as the two medics picked him up and carried him off to the field hospital.

"Pete, what happened?" Amy asked, watching Chris pass her. Pete had taken his friend's place on the LAAG gun and looked down to his sergeant. He gestured to the eight metal spikes that peppered the side of the car and explained what had happened.

"Did they follow you back here!" Amy queried, looking down the road before them.

"I'm hoping they gave up." Pete answered. "But we're not taking any chances right?"

"Right." She mimicked. "You stay put with these marines," She told him, nodding to some soldiers crouched behind a wall of sandbags not far away. "I'll be with you when the Covenant return. I need to see how bad Chris is and report your findings." She dismissed herself and jogged back through the courtyard, and to the field hospital.

Amy was only a few steps from the door of the tent, when a booming voice called out to her.

"Sergeant!"

Amy stopped dead in her tracks and spun around to see the lieutenant striding over to her. She gave him a quick salute and addressed him as he stood before her.

"Lieutenant!"

"At ease Huddleson." He said, taking off his cap and rubbing his forehead. Amy let her arm drop to her side and her shoulder relax. "I heard your scouts returned. But the gunner is injured."

"Private Cochrane. Yes." She informed him. "I was on my way to check on him now sir."

"I see. How was he injured?"

"Spike round to the leg sir. Hopefully nothing serious."

The lieutenant voiced no concern for her friend. Instead he only made an observation as to what would have shot him.

"Brutes..." He grumbled. He stared off into the distance a moment, his face went slightly pale. After a while, he brought his eyes back to Amy's. "What did your men find out?" He asked.

"It would appear that the brutes and the elites are engaged in some sort of dispute or power struggle." She explained. "My scout driver, Private Nicholson, reported seeing evidence of elites and their grunts being attacked by the brutes."

The lieutenant scratched his stubbled chin thoughtfully.

"Just when we think we're beginning to understand them... I'll pass this on to command. No doubt ONI will want to hear about this. Thank you sergeant, that'll be all." He saluted her to which she returned, then they went their separate ways.

Amy walked into the field hospital and was welcomed by the strong smell of disinfectant, along with a loud yell from a familiar voice. The painful sound was followed by the voice of another man, who swiftly retorted.

"If you move, it's going to hurt more! Nurse, hold him down!"

Amy stepped around the curtain to see Chris lying on a bed. The doctor had one hand on his leg, and one around the spike, while a nurse tried to hold him down by the shoulders.

"Ma'am, I', going to have to ask you to wait outside." The doctor told Amy.

"I'm this man's sergeant." She replied. "I'd like to stay."

"Suite yourself. In which case, as your here, you can help hold him down. Your private's a bit of a wuss."

Chris laughed through pain at the doctors remark.

"Oh, rude! I wouldn't be complaining so much if you gave me some morphine!"

Amy was now my her friend's side with a hand on his shoulder. She shot a look to the doctor, almost offended.

"You haven't given him any painkillers?"

"He's had two shots already." The doctor stated. "It's not my fault the drugs haven't taken effect yet. And before you ask, no. He can't have another. We are on limited supplies here." He looked up to Amy for the first time. "Can we get this over with? I have other patients to attend to."

Amy accepted defeat and nodded to the doctor. She turned to Chris and gave him a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry Chris. Looks like your going to have to suck it up." Chris groaned and threw his head back against the pillow. After a long sigh, he clenched his teeth.

"Do it." He said. Amy took his hand in hers for emotional support and held his shoulder down with the other. The doctor pulled hard on the brute spike and tried to keep his Chris' leg still, as his patient shouted and writhed in agony. Amy had to close her eyes and turn her head away from the scene, fighting blindly to keep Chris in one place.

The long scream ended as the spike released its grip from inside Chris' leg. As the doctor pulled it clear, and arterial spray erupted into the air, covering part of the bed and floor as it landed. Pressure was instantly applied to the open wound, covering the doctors rubber gloves in shiny red blood.

"Nurse, apply a tourniquet!" Ordered the doctor over the sound of Chris' cries. The nurse did just that, and within minutes, the blood flow had slowed enough for the doctor to begin cleaning the wound. By this time, Amy had her hand back and was asking how long it would take for her team mate to recover. The doctor handed over the rest of the treatment duties to the nurse as he answered Amy's query. "He's going to be out of action for a few days while the wound heals." He said, taking off his gloves and throwing them into a nearby bin. "It doesn't look like the round hit the bone, so he's lucky, I'll give him that. In the few days he needs rest, the wound will need to be treated regularly, and monitored for any sign of possible infection. I know our current circumstances aren't ideal, therefore I'd advise you try and get him out of the city."

Amy thought a moment at the possible places Chris could go. One place stuck in her mind

"Could we get him aboard the UNSC saviour?"

"I'd imagine they could accommodate him, yes."

"Is that the giant hospital ship?" Chris interjected.

"Yes," Answered the doctor. "Currently stationed in low orbit over the Mediterranean."

Chris looked up to Amy and met her stare. "I hate hospitals'." He said. "And that, is one BIG hospital."

"Chris," She began. "I'd rather have you battle ready in a few days, than to suffer here, and possibly die if this place gets blitzed." She told him. "Your going, and that's an order."

Chris looked down to his leg, to which the nurse was currently dressing with a bandage. He nodded and sighed.

"Understood..." He said.