Chapter 28: The Battle of Jeannette 5, Pt. 1

"No."

"You don't get to tell me no, Gunnery Sergeant. I outrank you."

"In this world," Frost said sternly, motioning to the silver bulkheads of I'm Alone's Hangar 01. "Where we're going, that's my world."

Vivian didn't plan on entertaining the conversation for much longer. Already, Pelicans and Albatrosses were lifting off the deck and hovering in place. Deck crew in green, yellow, blue, and red jumpsuits waved orange signal lights and made a number of gestures with their hands. Before each departure, the pilots and the deck crew exchanged salutes. Then, the dropships were spun around and flown out of the closest exit of the hangar. She shouldered the MA5B she was carrying before donning the rugged, olive drab CH252 helmet. Tucking the few dirty blonde locks free from her regulation bun underneath the helmet, she finally secured the chinstrap.

Just as she was about to lower her hands, Frost came over to her and grabbed her wrist. Her immediate instinct was to shake him off and she couldn't help but flinch. The veteran Marine seemed to tower over her. Behind him was a bright white light embedded in the titanium ceiling of Hangar 01 and it outlined his armored form. He appeared more like a shadow in that instant, his eyes hidden behind the orange-tinted goggles attached to the lip of his helmet. His lips were pressed into a thin but ultimately menacing line. For a brief moment, Vivian blinked and thought she saw more shadows around him. Unlike him, they were slender, feminine, with wild, billowing hair that came past their shoulders. They were black as night save for the streaks of red coursing through their hair, down their faces, and over their torsos. Fingers seemed like claws, eyes were a pale, milky white. Only when Vivian blinked again did they disappear.

Frost's expression seemed to ease and he offered a long sigh. "Cap', if you think you have something to prove—"

"I'm going to restore morale no matter what," Vivian told him firmly. "Even if that means going down there myself. I don't care if the Marines think I'm a coward or not. I've spoken with Colonel Hayes and Major Holst. Gunnery Sergeant Frost, I'm coming with you. If not you, then it'll be another squad."

The Marine was stone-faced; he didn't blink, his lips didn't move, even his eyebrows remained stock-still. His posture was extremely stiff and was made all the more severe by his sturdy Battle Dress Uniform. When he finally did relax, he looked over his shoulder without letting go of Vivian's wrist. Behind him, his squad was gathered in or around the Pelican's hatch to the passenger compartment. Most of his squad mates were visibly surprised but not apprehensive. From the angle she was at, she couldn't see Frost's face and assumed was searching their faces for a democratic decision. A couple shrugged, seemingly neither against or for it. Nobody seemed to be outright against it. The clincher, as she suspected, was Corporal Steele. The junior NCO, standing between the crew chief and Lance Corporal Grant, folded his arms across his chest, adopted a no-nonsense stance Vivian could only equate to an unimpressed Western cowboy, and then gave a firm nod before disappearing into the Pelican.

Once his friend was out of sight, Frost looked back at Vivian. His expression was beginning to ease and his gray eyes softened.

"Don't let her go, Nate."

Both Vivian and Frost turned to find Jasmine standing abreast of them. The doctor was clad in her white lab coat and had her hands in the pockets. She stood in a rather relaxed fashion in stark contrast to the upset expression upon her face. Slowly, she walked over to the pair and stood close enough that Vivian could smell the medical-grade gel Jasmine used to sanitize her hands. Glaring at them both from behind her glasses, she sized Vivian up. Frost finally let go of Vivian's wrist and stood up straight. Before the Captain could speak, Jasmine leaned closer. "What do you think you're doing, Viv? The battlegroup commander does not deploy with the Marines in a planetary landing. You are of more use by staying on the bridge and issuing orders to the battlespace from there. The Marines have plenty of rifles and enough troops to carry them. You are not needed."

"We've had some knocks, Jas. Morale is low and I can't in good conscience send these men down there thinking they're just expendable tools to be used on a whim. I'm going with them and that's it."

"You can't do this. It's not right. It's not safe."

"We're at war, Jasmine, nowhere is safe. Not even the I'm Alone."

"Vivian—"

"Lieutenant Commander Ebrahimi," Vivian began sharply, "I will remind you that I am the overall commander of this battlegroup. You are junior to me and are not a member of my command staff. You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do."

Jasmine noticeably bristled at the rebuke, her eyes narrowing and brow furrowing angrily. Such an emotion never came to her easily and nobody knew that better than Vivian. But her own blood was up. Before she even set foot on the hangar deck she was resolved to go down to the planet no matter what. She made that abundantly clear to Colonel Hayes, who agreed almost immediately, and then made her position quite clear to a surprised but ultimately accepting Major Holst. Her bridge officers and staff had not commented on her decision; perhaps they were too shocked to do such a thing. If they had, she would have given the same comment she was currently giving Jasmine. Just because she was her best friend didn't exempt her from Vivian's authority. As much as it pained her to do it, the Captain of the I'm Alone would not stand for it, especially when time was of the essence.

Sensing that arguing with her friend would get her nowhere, Jasmine turned to Frost. She put an imploring hand on his arm.

"Nate, please. Tell her she can't go, that she shouldn't go."

Frost looked down at her, blinking. He smiled at Jasmine warmly and his gray eyes became the softest she'd ever seen them. One might have assumed it was the expression that came ever so naturally to two people so deeply in love. But there was some utterly unique and genuinely special about the smiles Frost afforded Jasmine. To all, he was wreathed in myth and legend stemmed for a career built on the corpses of Insurrectionists. He was a cold looking person, exemplified by his gray eyes, often veering between the colors of rainclouds to the dull, unpolished silver. Ever present were the small, sharp, blue shards in his irises, making them even icier. Outside his barracks, he was fast, rigid, and reserved. Only his friends and fellow Marines knew the warmer side of the man, the one Vivian had caught glimpses of over the past two years. But even they were unaccustomed and unaware of the affection which Frost so rarely yet so easily drew upon for his little lover. Naturally, his head bent and his shoulders fell affably. The smile that came was soft, as if Jasmine's mere presence settled all that was troubling him. To him, nobody was more intelligent, kind, or brave than the good Doctor Ebrahimi. And by his expression, one could see he was not only proud of her but admired her constantly for her hard work and diligence towards her fellow man.

And just how Jasmine gazed up at him, her hazel-brown eyes glittering like gems. A giddiness came to her, an excitement one thought kept only for the youthful who were just discovering what it was to be special to someone else. The quiet, dignified demeanour of an excellent Navy officer and doctor was shed. The nervous, shy, young woman Jasmine had shared only with Vivian over the years came out, but was not the same. She was happier, more open, and keen to smile. All her smiles were just for the man standing over her. He was brave, kind, dedicated, hardworking, and could make her laugh. He was her hero, the best man she'd ever met.

It made Frost's expression all the more tender, sweeter, but ultimately sadder. Uncaring for the multitude of Marines and seamen scurrying all over the deck, he leaned down and planted a kiss on her cheek. Jasmine could not help but blush.

"I'm sorry Jasmine," Frost sighed, "I think this one is out of my hands."

The doctor blinked. Her hand fell from his forearm and her surprised gaze shifted to frustration. She became so angry she was practically shaking. Even Frost was rather taken aback by the shift. Then, Jasmine wheeled around and stormed away. She covered the distance from the center of Hangar 01 to the aft exit in less than a minute, her shoulders cocked and head down as if she was about to tackle somebody. Behind her, the tails of her lab coat swept back and forth, back and forth.

Vivian glanced at Frost and cleared her throat.

"Sorry."

The Gunnery Sergeant didn't speak until Jasmine disappeared through the doors. Glaring at Vivian, he shifted his MA5B on his shoulder, turned, and began heading for the Pelican.

"You stick by me, keep your head down, and you don't bother me. Understood, Captain?"

His tone was venomous but Vivian, understanding, refused to interrupt with a comment or reprimand. He earned that one, she thought to herself. Quickly, she followed behind him to the edge of the Pelican. Everyone was now inside and he turned around to help her up. Vivian took his hand and was lifted in. Taking the seat closest to hatch on the starboard side, Vivian settled into the seat and pulled the harness over her. Across from her was Frost, his face now dark as the hatch slowly closed and the dull red light flooded the passenger compartment. Isha went through his takeoff procedures then gave his confirmation to Jasper. The pilot conferred with Pajari, went through the proper procedure with the deck crew via radio exchanges and hand signals, and the Pelican's engines hummed to life.

The power of the engines seemed to flood the entire dropship. It shook as if tense and excited with energy. There was a slight jar as it lifted from the deck and slowly spun around. A moment later, it accelerated forward and left the confines of the I'm Alone.

It was mostly quiet inside the Pelican. Nobody spoke other than an occasional two or three word sentence responded to be a grunt. There was a rhythmic clicking and padding sound as the Marines checked over their equipment. Magazines were taken out of their chest rig pouches, checked, and then seated in the pouches once more. Every strap was tightened, loosened, and tightened again until they were not only secure but comfortable. Spare magazines was slid into modified clips or slots built into the armor. Corporal Bishop looped belts of shotgun rounds around his mid-thighs and had a slot with eight shells attached to each forearm. Grant, armed with an MA5B with a forty millimeter grenade launcher underbarrel attachment, had a belt of shells attached to the rear of his rig. Carris was armed with an M379 light machine gun and the large drum clips were stuffed into larger pouches along her waistline. On one hip was an M7 submachine gun while on the other was an M6C sidearm. Bandoliers stuffed with magazines for both weapons were strapped to her tailbone. Frost went the extra strap of taping spare MA5 mags to his out calves.

KA-BAR knives were attached to their chest rigs or to other easily accessible parts of their webbing. Vivian, checking her own gear, placed the black metal sheath on the left side of her chest. If she needed it, she could reach across and yank it out. Several times, she tested the method to ensure the blade wouldn't snag on her webbing or didn't get caught inside the scabbard.

Beside her, Maddox leaned over with a codebook. He began tapping each code and frequency with his index finger.

"This is the SQUADCOM access code, you can put it in via your wrist module. SQUADCOM gets you patched into your squad comms, the platoon net, and the company net. Platoon call sign is Gladius, we're Gladius-One. Let me and Frost do the talking."

Vivian nodded as she patched herself into the comms. She was already aware of the battle plan. The joint Army-Marine task force was in a large defensive perimeter on a plateau beyond the burning woods. General Amsterdam was in overall command and had chosen the position well. The cordon ran four mile to the north and five miles to the east, creating an upside down L shape perimeter. Running diagonally from both ends was a semicircular jagged ridge. Topography reports indicated that it was so steep and rock it was almost impossibly for infantry to take from a ground assault. Amsterdam had placed Kodiak self-propelled artillery units on the top via airlift as well as a detachment of Wolverine for anti-air support. A battalion of Rangers was also stationed on the ridge in the event the Covenant attempted either an air or ground assault.

The landing site was well entrenched. Prefabricated defenses ranging from blockhouses to guard towers had been shipped planetside by Vice Admiral Travers's fleet and Amsterdam used them to strengthen the perimeter. As well, the main operating base was supported by a headquarters, supply pads, a field hospital, and repair and refit station for vehicles. An airpad was also being built under Covenant artillery fire.

Covenant forces had two operational bases on the planet with layers of automated defenses and production facilities. Reports indicated that Banshees were rolling off their assembly lines, were given a pilot, and were immediately entering combat. A large infantry battle took place in the woods, resulting in Amsterdam ordering a tactical withdrawal back to their perimeter. Even with the forest on fire, the Covenant were attacking through it. Other assault units, supported by Banshees and heavy vehicles, were attacking the main perimeter. The lines were holding but the Covenant were getting too close to the linchpin connecting the north and eastern lines. It was a fortified, two-story blockhouse that had an automated defense suite. Three turrets armed with three M202 XP machine guns and augmented with railcannons, were devastating the approaching Covenant. Now, the aliens were massing for an attack on it. Alpha Company, including Gladius Platoon, were going to deploy there.

The Pelican rocked as it entered Jeannette 5's atmosphere. Vivian was jostled around even though she was wearing the harness. As the ride began to grow smoother, Lieutenant Conroy's voice came over the comms.

"Gladius Platoon, this is Six. This is going to be a hot drop. There are Covvies in the wire. One, push right to the blockhouse and add security. Two, left flank, Three, you're on the right. Four, provide cover fire and then get to One's position. Do not stop for anything. Six, out."

"You heard him, Marines!" Frost yelled. He flicked the safety off on his MA5B. "Hot LZ!"

"One minute!" Jasper yelled from the cockpit.

Everyone held up one finger and looked at each other, echoing the pilot. Vivian did the same. She found her breath rapidly increasing and her heart was beginning to pound. The Pelican was drawing closer to the battlefield yet it was utterly quiet inside the passenger compartment. It seemed as though there was no battle, that was it was theoretical, like in the training sessions she participated in on Luna OCS. Such training seemed so unnecessary for a Navy officer but now Vivian was replaying it all in her mind. Her bones, her sinews, remembered the movement, the speed, and she trusted her training to get her through. "Thirty seconds!"

Everyone held their thumb and index fingers apart by an inch, repeating after the pilot. The dropship leveled out and Isha stepped forward, his back to the hatch.

"Stand up!" he yelled, raising both hands. Harness were removed and the squad got to their feet. They formed two parallel lines along the blood tray, standing close to one another. Isha tapped his shoulders. "Equipment check!" Vivian patted her equipment down and felt Maddox doing the same behind her. Finally, Isha stepped aside and monitored his watch. Then, he hit the release button on the panel beside the door. It began to open and white light flooded the compartment.

Vivian immediately raised her left hand to shield her eyes. As the roar of the engines filled her ears, her eyes recovered. The Pelican was flying low over the heads of countless Marines and soldiers rushing towards the forward lines. Warthogs and Scorpions joined them, their guns thundering away at the enemy. Plasma mortars landed among them, destroying Warthogs and engulfing dozens of troops in a crackling white-blue cloud. The Pelican got close to the ground, so close Vivian realized if she knelt she could reach out and touch , she heard Jasper over the comms.

"We ain't even gonna touch the ground, Marines! Give them hell!"
Isha poised himself next to the hatch and pointed out with the flat of his hand.

"Go! Go! Go!"

Vivian leaped from the Pelican, landed hard on the ground, ran a few feet, and then wheeled around. The rest of the squad filed out of the Pelican, as did hundreds of Marines from other dropships. Everyone turned and began charging the blockhouse. On the top, the three turrets continued to blast away at the incoming Covenant infantry. UNSC Marines and soldiers lined the perimeter consisting of titanium barricades, entrenched sandbag positions, fighting holes, gun pits, and hesco bastions. Clots of infantrymen fired at the enemy swiftly approaching. Like torrents of water smashing against a riverine rock, Elites led swathes of Grunts and Jackals through the perimeters in several parts of the line. Infantrymen retreated, regrouped, and poured relentless fire on the infiltrators. Most were killed but some broke through, pushing deeper into the UNSC position. Red, green, and white tracers flew overhead from other automated defenses and from an elevated secondary, interior line. Warthogs raced up, providing covering fire, while transport types loaded up the bleeding, screaming wounded.

There were so many detonations, so much gunfire, and an orchestra of screaming, Vivian couldn't make anything out. She tried to train her sights on Covenant infantry but they were either too fast, were dispatched before she could fire, friendly troops got in the way, forcing her to lower her weapon. Pelicans touched down, disgorged their complements, and flew away. More bodies were being added to the battle. Albatrosses landed everywhere they could, allowing Scorpions to join the battle.

Vivian felt like a whirlwind, already having lost the squad, being knocked over by nearby plasma mortars, her skin bristling from the heat, and trying to fire at the enemy. Suddenly, someone grabbed her chest rig.

"Come on!" Frost screamed in her face. Vivian followed him as they rushed towards the blockhouse. Ahead, Marines were battling hand-to-hand with Skirmishers trying to break into the facility. Some succeeded, but others were stabbed or beaten to death by the Marines. A purring sound filled the air; Vivian looked left and saw a trio of Ghosts fling themselves over the perimeter. One was instantly blown in midair by a round from a M68 Gauss cannon standalone turret. One Cobra rolling towards the fray, was able to destroy a second as it landed. But the third broke through and the occupant, an Elite, accelerated the vehicle. Frost and Vivian dove and hit the ground hard, narrowly avoiding the craft. As she got back up, she saw a Scorpion destroy the Ghost at point-blank range. The vehicle became a fireball and the Elite was thrown into the air, its legs nothing but blood stumps.

Vivian followed Frost into the building. To her left was a Marine smashing in the skull of a wounded Skirmisher with the butt of his MA5B. Each time the weapon landed on its head there was a sickening crunch. When she finally entered the complex, she was greeted by the sight of a Skirmisher being thrown against the wall. Corporal Bishop stormed up to it, planted the barrel of his M90 against its chest, and squeezed the trigger. Bam! The report of the weapon rang in Vivian's ears while the alien's body, holed through the chest, slumped over. Behind it was a streak of flesh and blood on the wall.

Marines and Army troopers lined the long slits and firing ports. Firing from the hip and shoulder, they mowed down droves of Covenant assailing the building. Sometimes, they ducked as blue and green plasma bolts bombarded their positions. Wounded men sitting on the ground behind them handed the standing infantrymen full magazines and hand grenades. Outside, the M9 grenades detonated with such frequency it seemed like a mortar barrage was taking place.

Suddenly, a pulsating blue plasma grenade was flung through the window. Everybody dove from it amid cries of 'get down!' The grenade stuck to a box of seven-six-two millimeter ammunition and exploded right after Vivian hit the deck. Ignited by the blast, bullets went over and ricocheted inside the room. UNSC men and women cried out as they were struck in the arm, calf, or thigh by the rampaging rounds. Army medics and Navy corpsmen went to their aid as soon as the firing stopped. While personnel tended to the fire that threatened their other ammunition stories, Vivian saw Frost by the staircase to the second floor. He was waving at her.

She made her way to him. As she approached, Langley suddenly dropped her weapon. A squawking Skirmisher thrust its head through the firing port and tried to grab her. But Langley quickly hit it across the face and grappled with it.

"Gunny!" she shouted. Frost drew his KA-BAR knife and drove it through the back of the Skirmisher's neck.

"Second floor, go!" Frost ordered. Langley picked her weapon back up and stormed up the stairs. When Vivian was about to ascend, she felt Frost shoved her on back. "Keep moving! Keep moving! They need us up there!"

Vivian bounded up the steps. She reached the landing and tore into the room so hard she nearly fell over. The second floor was taking a lot of fire. Troopers could only stand and shoot through the windows and firing ports for a few moments. Heavy plasma repeatedly drove them back. Infantrymen wounded by needler and carbine rounds tumbled back. A corpsman had established a casualty collection point and was tended to the wounded as best she could.

On the far side, an Army trooper was firing an M247 mounted on a tripod out the window. Just then, he fell onto his back. Rushing over, Vivian found he had been shot right in the forehead by a carbine round. Suddenly, Steele, who was standing nearby, shifted his sniper rifle and peered down the scope.

"Fucker, I got you now," he seethed and squeezed the trigger.

"Target down!" the Army trooper spotting for him declared.
"Somebody get that fucking gun up!"

Vivian shouldered her MA5B, grabbed the gun, and took aim. Below, lines of Covenant troops were charging the structure.

"Five to eight round bursts, Captain!" she heard Frost shout.

Controlling the weapon, she began rattling off bursts at the enemy. Droves fell under the heavy automatic fire. Entire squads of Grunts were chewed up, their light armor blasting into pieces from the large caliber rounds. Limbers were severed, heads blown upon, methane tanks exploded. At first, Vivian had difficulty maintaining the weapon. Its recoil, although dampened, was still hard to control. It had been a long time since she used one and only then it was a brief course outlined in OCS. But her training kicked in, she found her footing, and was reliably slowing the Covenant down.

She saw someone run up beside her. It was Frost and he was looking out a firing port with a pair of binoculars. "Traverse left, let'em have it on the left!" Vivian turned the gun and began cutting down waves of Covenant on the left. The gun ran dry and an ammunition bearer brought her another canister. Together, they reloaded the weapon. "Right flank, ninety degrees!" Vivian turned the weapon again. Elite Majors were rallying a platoon-sized force of Grunts and Jackals. The Jackals took the lead, locking their wrist-mounted shields and advancing against the UNSC line. Vivian started firing longer bursts and used the weight of the bullets to overload the shields. One after the other, the shields winked away and the Jackals were subsequently cut to pieces. Behind them, the Grunts began to retreat. Elites bashed and kicked them, but they too were shot down.

Vivian directed the M247 back towards the center of her field of fire. Coming right towards the building was a pair of Hunters. Frost lowered his binoculars. "Knight, get that fucking AT up here!"

Knight went up to a larger firing port. Frost went around Vivian and pointed out the targets. While they prepared to fire the rocket launcher, Vivian peppered the Hunters with the M247. The two mammoth creatures raised their shields and the rounds bounced harmlessly off. Shifting the sights, she squeezed off three round bursts at the exposed orange flesh. Despite their ungainly weight and lack of agility, the Hunters ably defended their weak points with their shields.

To her right, Knight stood up with the rocket launcher. Marines and soldiers cleared the way. "Backblast clear! Fire!"

Knight fired the first rocket. It struck the Hunter on the right on its shield; although the explosion halted it and the armor plating was scorched, the blast was deflected. But before it could recover, Knight fired again and the second rocket struck the beast right on its helmeted head. When the dust cleared, the headless Hunter collapsed. Before the AT Marine could reload, the other Hunter poised itself with its weapon. The green plasma modules flared and a huge beam barreled towards Vivian.

Diving back, Vivian landed on her side and looked back just in time to see the M247 melt under the plasma. The green beam then burned through the firing ports, forcing Frost, Knight, and several other troopers back. Some did not escape in time and their upper bodies were blown away. Scrambling back to her feet, Vivian ran back to the closest firing port and began firing her MA5B at the hunter. Grant came up beside her, loaded a shell into his underbarrel grenade launcher, and aimed.

"Forty mike-mike out!" he hollered and squeezed the trigger. The first grenade he fired bounced off the Hunter's shield. The second landed in front of her, spattering the creature with dirt, grass, and shrapnel. But the third hit in the arm, damaging its gun. By that point, Knight reloaded his weapon and fired two rockets in quick succession. Both struck home and the Hunter was destroyed.

The Covenant infantry attacked seemed to abate. Vivian hoped they had given the Covenant a decent blow and would grant the joint task force some breathing room. But Steele soon culled such wishes.

"Nate-boy," he said, gazing through his scope. "I got Wraiths in abattle line at the edge of the woods. Those bastards might try a push. Somebody get the FO. Hang on, more movement. I got Banshees up top." He lowered his rifle and turned around. "Everybody get down!"

Vivian got as low as she could and covered her head. Thirty tense seconds passed. She heard the quiet whoosh of approaching plasma. Suddenly, the entire world seemed to shake. Plasma mortars bombarded the structure and the green spikes from Banshee fuel road guns pummeled the rooftop. Even through the thick, titanium walls of the building she could feel the intense heat. Rolling onto her back, she slid her hands under the sides of her helmet, and held her ears. Streaks of blue and green plasma lashed through the firing ports. It reminded her of lightning strikes during a rainstorm. So much plasma was striking the building the titanium armor was melting in some parts.

A particularly loud series of crashes shook the rooftop. For a moment, Vivian thought it would collapse. But the bombardment subsided. As she got up, Maddox was the first on his feet.

"We just lost all three turrets," he informed Frost, lowering the handset of his radio. Frost received this news without reply. Lieutenant Conroy appeared with his systems operator and the platoon forward observer. The FO and the systems operator began calling out targets on the net, calling Kodiak artillery on the Wraiths that were now advancing on their position. Just as the counter-bombardment began, Vivian saw Phantom dropships approaching.

Maddox began calling in the targets but the Covenant formations began to split up. Five of the dropships sped towards their position.

"I don't have any shots," multiple Marines and Army troopers reported.

"We got Phantoms right on top of us!" Conroy approaching, monitoring the SQUADCOM. "Brutes on the roof!"

A plasma explosion tore through the ceiling, throwing Vivian and several others back. Before she could even stand, Brute Minors jumped down wearing blue helmets and body armor. They roared at the UNSC troops and brandished their Spikers. Drawing her MA5B, Vivian squeezed the trigger and fired all sixty rounds at the nearest Brute. The monster bellowed and stomped towards her. Bullets tore into its flesh and broke up its armor. Raising the barrel, Vivian fired the last twelve rounds into the alien's face. Its jaw was ripped away, the eyes shot out, and blood poured from its maw. Dead, the Brute slumped over.

She was now confronted with a horrifying sight. More Brutes were entering via the rooftop. Marines and Brutes were firing point blank in each other. With so many Covenant in front of her, she was cut off from the others. But then Carris appeared. Dropping her M379, she deftly kicked a Spiker from the Brute on the left side of the room. Delivering several quick blows to its chest and face, Carris nimbly dodged one of its disoriented punches. Then, she took a running start, jumped, pushed herself off the wall with her right left and smashed her fist over the Brute's mouth. Vivian could see teeth flying through the air. As it recoiled, Carris ducked low, turned, drew her knife, jumped on its back, and opened its throat.

After the beast collapsed, Carris picked up an M90 from a fallen Marine. Turning, she tossed it to Vivian. Shouldering her MA5B, Vivian caught it, checked to see that it was loaded, and then pushed forward to rejoin the others. Carris fell in step with her, drawing her M6C and M7. Together, they shot at the nearest Brutes who were closing in on the casualty collection point by the door. Marines and Army personnel were struggling to get the wounded out before they were overrun.

"Captain, duck!" Carris shouted. Vivian got out of the way just as a Brute, just having jumped through the breach, swung the bayonet of its Spiker at her. Carris grabbed the Brute's outstretched arm, dropped her pistol, and delivered a devastating blow right on the Brute's elbow. The beast howled in pain as the bone in its arm turned to powder and it fell by its side like the empty sleeve of a shirt. Kicking her pistol back into her hand, Carris forced the weapon into the Brute's mouth and emptied the magazine. The final round burst through the back of the Brute's skull.

Another Brute attempted to attack them but the strong report of a sniper rifle filled the room. A high caliber round went through one side of its head and out the other. Both Vivian and Carris turned to see Steele and a clot of Marines by the door, providing covering fire.

"Get the fuck over here!" the sniper cried frantically. Beside him, Frost fired off accurate brusts, careful not to shoot too closely to Carris and Vivian as they approached.

"We're moving to the first floor, let's go!" the Gunnery Sergeant shouted.

"Cover the wounded!" Vivian shouted to the remaining fighters as the others continued to ferry the wounded downstairs. More Brutes, now supported by Grunts and Skirmishers, flooded the second floor. M7 submachine guns, MA5 assault rifles, M90 shotguns, and countless other weapon systems opened up on the attackers. Bodies began to pile up but they still came on, landing on the corpses like they were cushions.

Vivian ran out of ammunition with the shotgun, dropped it, reloaded her MA5B, and kept up the fire. She was horrified to see Skirmishers clawing and crawling their way through the firing ports. They were jumping to the second floor and climbing up the sides.

"Go, move it!" Frost began shouting. Vivian began to back up slowly, too afraid to turn her back and leave herself exposed. Beside her, Carris picked up Steele as if he was a bridge and began to fall back.

"What!? What the fuck!?" Steele hollered as he drew his pistol and kept trying to shoot at the enemy. "Put me down! I can walk! Ah, my fucking ribs! Jesus H. Christ! Stop carrying me, woman!"

Vivian felt someone grab her under the arm and begin pulled her down the stairs. She looked back and saw it was Frost.

"C'mon, Cap', c'mon!" When they were finally shoulder to shoulder, he pulled an M9 off his chest rig. "Frag out!" He pulled the pin and lobbed the grenade in. Vivian did the same with one of her own M9's. As they darted back down the stairs, the grenade exploded behind them. When they were about to hit the landing, the wall adjacent to it exploded. Several Marines were caught in the plasma charge and were killed. Others were hit by the chunks of titanium blown back. Elites and Jackals stormed through. Frost drew his M6C in his left hand and struggled to control his MA5B in his right, firing both weapons at the stream of Covenant cutting them off. Vivian turned around and aimed her weapon back up the stairs. More Brutes were coming after them. After firing off a few bursts, she lobbed another grenade at them. It stalled them but only for a few moments.

Frost had cleared some of the landing but the Elites were now turning their attention to them. There was no cover and nowhere to go. Frost dropped his rifle, drew his KA-BAR knife, and charged into the fray. The Elites were not surprised and did their best to hit him. Vivian did the same, joining Frost and slashing with her dagger. It was a tangle of limbs, hands, kicks, punches, screaming, roaring, mandibles, teeth, plasma rifles, pistols, and knives. At one moment, Vivian found herself face-down on the floor and a second later she was being thrown around. An Elite roared in her face, she slashed off a mandible with her blade, and a fist struck her chest plate. When she was on the ground again, she saw an Elite towering over her. Then, another high caliber sniper round blew through its head.

She looked back. Carris was approaching with Steele's sniper rifle, using it at point blank range. Snapping the weapon between the enemies, she deftly fired off three more rounds. She dumped the magazine, reloaded, and cut down several more. Vivian felt somebody grab her webbing and drag her. Frost and Bishop got her away from the Elites and then helped to her feet. As the remaining defenders began to filter out of the building, Vivian stood fast with the squad and began to fire at the Covenant that were flooding in. Steele was firing diligently with his M6E next to Carris. When Lieutenant Conroy finally gave the order to retreat, he turned to the heavily armored Navy operative.

"C, give me back my rifle!" he insisted. Carris kept firing. "Hey, c'mon, it's mine!

Wordlessly, Carris turned and scooped him back up, throwing him over her shoulder. Steele pounded her fists on her back. "Stop picking me up! What in the flying fuck, c'mon, I can—"

His protests faded as he was taken outside. Frost and Vivian were the last ones to exist. Joining the flow of retreating troops, they took cover behind a line of Scorpions. Once they were safe behind them, the tanks began firing at the structure. The tower disappeared in a cloud of dust and fire. All the Covenant troops that came out were obliterated. When the tanks ceased firing and the dust cloud cleared, there was nothing left but bodies strewn in the twisted metal ruins.

The infantry wasted no time.

"Get back into position and prepare for another assault," an officer ordered. Vivian, dirty, sweaty, and covered in alien blood, slowly reloaded her rifle, took a breath, and fell in line.

Words: 6,186

Pages: 14

Font: Garamomd

Font Size: 12

Line Spacing: 1.5

Author's Note: More action on the way next week! No way to start a New Year then with a frantic, confused planetary assault!

Comment Responses:

MightBeGone: Glad you enjoyed the previous chapter and I hope you look forward to the incoming action!

Qrs-jg: Yeah, I briefly thought about it back in the beginning of the story when he appeared in Jasmine's flashback chapter Bandages. As cool as it was to have there and the prospect of an interesting encounter between Vivian and him, I ultimately decided that's probably not going to happen. The timeline is really tight and I'd like to keep things focused since we're already well over halfway through the story. Sorry about that. Oh, and Happy New Year as well!

CarlosInferno: Steele really is one of the most dynamic, flexible characters. He's surly, rough around the edges, doesn't have too many qualms about doing wrong/illegal things. But he has his lines and he won't cross them, and I think he's recovered from the past to the degree, as you've pointed out, he's a counter-balance to Frost's more killer tendencies. I think what makes him very engaging is that he's still his own man despite being very important to Frost as a storytelling device. Lots of fun to write with him.