A/N: TWO chapters in one day, I hear you say! Well, this chapter and Welcome To Reach were originally written as ONE chapter, but the length got WAY out of hand (just over 9K words!) and I decided to split it into two, for better pacing and whatnot.
Hope you enjoy the second lot of excitement I have in store for you all :D
P.S. song lyrics taking from Without You by Breaking Benjamin. which is, sadly, a song that really fits the Spartans in general
The flight out was muted, save for the quiet banter that the other Spartans partook in. The lone wolf chose to opt out; it wasn't really her thing, and besides that, it felt like she was intruding. She was not a part of this team like the others were; nor would she ever be. She was just a replacement; only there to get the job done, without affecting the team otherwise.
B312 was all but a statue, save for the fact that she'd pulled one of many combat knives out of its sheath, and was spinning it around in her fingers. It was not so much as she needed something to do, as it was an old habit of hers. And it had never harmed anyone. Well, unless she'd intended it to, of course.
After fifteen minutes of this, a trickle came to the back of her mind, music of some kind; could not really remember who had sung it or when it had been released. It was old, and familiar, was as much as she knew, and it was impossible to resist half-singing, half-mumbling the words aloud over TEAMCOM. "Search for the answers I knew all along. I lost myself, we all fall down. Never the wiser, of what I've become. Alone I stand, a broken man." So what if the others heard her? It wasn't like they were—
It felt like a cold shock ran down her spine. Someone else had joined in, and it was the person she'd least expected. Just for a beat, two beats, she listened, before harsh irritation cut in and she'd decided that she'd heard enough.
"All I have, is one last chance. I won't turn my back on you. Take my hand, drag me down. If you fall, then I will too. And I can't save what's left of you."
"Don't do that, Commander." she said coldly, and it felt like ice had seeped into her bones. Damn him. Why did he think he had to join in?
"Don't do what?" To her, it sounded like he was pretending to be innocent, or perhaps he really didn't know what she'd meant. Either way, it pissed her off worse than before.
"You know damn well what!" she snapped, feeling her control over her temper fraying. Once again, was he trying to get under her skin? It sure as hell felt like that, and she didn't like it.
"Ooh, temper, temper." Emile chimed in, and it seemed as though he were enjoying the altercation.
"Oh shove it, Warrant Officer, or I'll shove your kukri up your—"
"Enough." Carter intervened. Evidently, he'd changed his mind on the matter; his tone was businesslike, and brooking no argument. "Save it, both of you." Even through the golden visor, it felt to her like he was looking at her sternly, until he tore his helmeted gaze away, shaking his head. "Listen up, Noble Team. We're looking at a downed relay outpost, fifty klicks from Visegrád. We're going to introduce ourselves to whoever took it out, and then Kat's going to get it back online."
"Just get me under the hood, Commander." The team's second was quick to answer, and her manner was all-too-casual about potentially hacking into a communications relay.
Jorge's question as to why rebels would want to cut off Reach from the rest of the colonies left the lone wolf pondering, and wishing she'd paid attention to the earlier conversation between Carter and his superior, Holland. So, the suspected cause of this mission out to Visegrád was insurrectionists. Were they truly the cause behind all of this? Why send out a Spartan team for something so simple? ONI had been right in thinking that NOBLE were a misallocation of valuable resources – this op should have been assigned to a team of ODST specialists, instead. Maybe Holland was uptight, maybe he wanted to show what else his Spartans could do to the rest of the UNSC, maybe he suspected that it wasn't insurrectionists at all – that it was something far, far worse.
A chill shot through her chest, and she banished that last thought. There was no way that they would be at Reach. They could not have found humanity's military stronghold, the literal doorstep to Earth.
"You get a chance, maybe you can ask 'em, Jorge."
Right. Because asking rebels always worked out nicely. B312 suspected that he was being mildly sarcastic in that remark; the rebels would be more likely to shoot first, ask questions later, with the presence of Spartans.
"Commander, we just lost our signal with HQ." Kat announced after a momentary lapse in conversation.
That's always a good sign, isn't it she thought sardonically.
"Backup channels?"
"Searching…" Kat's voice was almost washed out by a metallic crackle from her datapad, and so she raised her voice a fraction as she finished with a shrug, "Nada. Can't say what's jamming us."
Proof that their enemy was smart. One step ahead, even. The signs were pointing to the situation becoming worse and worse, and the battle had yet to begin.
"You heard her," Carter informed the rest of them, as though they weren't privy to what was going on, despite all communications thus far being on the same channel. "Dead zone confirmed. Command will not be keeping us company this trip."
"As if they were going to anyway." Emile retorted scornfully. "I'm lonely already."
The Covenant were on Reach. The lone wolf felt like she had precog; how the hell had a random guess been right?
She'd wondered why whatever had destroyed the Troopers' Warthog had had so much firepower; at the time, she'd thought that it was explosives. And the dead soldiers they'd found; the way they'd been interrogated hadn't seemed like something humans would do, although she had known some rebels to be particularly bloodthirsty. Oh, how wrong they'd all been. Jorge hadn't wanted it to be the Covenant. None of them had, although the heavy weapons specialist had lamented about it in particular when Emile had suggested plasma had been what had caused the first mess they'd encountered.
She silently hoped that wherever the rest of this Trooper squad was – because there was more unaccounted for – they were in one piece. It was bad enough that some of the soldiers were dead. What was worse was that there were civilian bodies, too – even ones they hadn't seen, but had been given an account of by a few frightened, native farmers.
And now the aliens were right outside the building.
B312 listened as the rest of the team rushed into the room behind her, yelling out exclamations and curses alike; she drowned them out in favour of raising her M6G, steadying her breathing, and firing off a pair of pinpoint headshots at the Skirmisher atop a nearby roof. Snap! Snap! The birdlike alien crumpled, and the Spartan moved away, steps flowing like water as she wound around a staircase per Carter's instruction to move down to the lower levels of the building. She paused only for a moment to pilfer a trio of frag grenades left scattered beside the corpse of yet another unfortunate Trooper lying in a pool of his own blood.
She reached the ground floor, and saw a trio of Skirmishers darting out towards her, firing their plasma pistols as they ran. Without second thought, the Spartan pulled the firing pin on one of the 'nades, lobbing it towards the Covies, ducking behind Jorge for cover as he entered armour lock. A beat, followed quickly by a whump as the grenade detonated; the Spartan picked over the alien bodies and made her way outside.
It would not do her justice to describe what she was doing as simply 'fighting in combat'. Because oh, was it so much more than that. Her body language was that of power, and of fluid grace. Her movements were not simply acting and reacting; she was dancing, pure poetry in motion. Indeed, while her combat prowess had been foretold, notes and files could not compare to seeing her in action. Speed, stealth, cunning; these were all her skills, and more. She was not just a Spartan; she was a hunter, a predator, and each and every Covenant alien was her prey. Brutal power and beautiful lethality were hers to command; they were what set her apart from the others.
Another birdlike alien screeched from close by, and she swung around to face this new threat. As the Skirmisher leapt towards her, the Lieutenant's hand shot out and caught it by the throat in midair. She wrenched the avian downwards, stunning it on the way with her fist, and then stepped on its head, crushing its skull beneath her armoured boot and killing it instantly.
"What the hell?" Emile breathed over TEAMCOM, stunned, breaking the silence. "Man, I thought that I was brutal in how I killed those alien sons of bitches. But that takes the cake… and terrifies me."
"Stand down, Noble, stand down." Carter disrupted any further banter with his orders; he was clearly not in the mood for any further light-hearted conversing. "Contacts neutralized."
"Contacts?!" Jorge sounded aghast. "It's the damn Covenant! How can you act so casual when the greatest enemy man has possibly ever faced is here on our military stronghold. Earth's metaphorical doorstep, Commander. Need I remind you how many light years away we are from humanity's home planet? You do the math, same as me. What does it give you?"
"Cheer up, big man." Emile interjected, before the heavy weapons specialist could continue his agitated ranting. "This whole valley just turned into a free-fire zone. And with that goin' on, you can be sure that you'll be the one to send the Covies packin'."
The Spartan-II cursed under his breath, shaking his head at his younger compatriot before striding past. Something told B312 that his grip on his machine gun would have been white-knuckle tight. She could see where his anger was coming from, and it wasn't just because Reach was his home. For a moment there, she'd felt the same way, until she'd buried the emotion down deep, and lost herself in the combat, and the freedom it entailed.
Perhaps it was that some of Jorge's current mood had rubbed off on the Commander, because he sounded tense as he demanded, "Kat, we've got to warn Holland. I need you at that relay outpost now."
Even Jun had begun to sound ruffled, and he was almost as calm as Carter was. "Boss, I'm showing more activity to the east! Picking up a small number of heat-sigs on the thermal."
"Copy that, Jun, we're on it." She could feel his stare through that golden visor as though it wasn't there, his tone cold, but familiar as he spoke once more. "Six, you've got point. Time to make 'em regret coming here."
It was inevitable that they'd wound up entering a protracted seek and sweep firefight while searching for the survivors of 3 Charlie – if there were any left. It seemed like there were endless hordes of the damned aliens, crawling out of the woodwork of nearly every human building they'd come across, just for a chance to shoot at the soldiers they considered to be 'Demons'. Because of course the bastards had managed to get themselves dug in without the UNSC knowing. It wasn't even so much a matter of their technology giving them the ability to sneak around better than humanity – they were just very, very good at dropping in unawares.
And so, of course, it was inevitable that the Spartans would begin to have issues. Indomitable supersoldiers in expensive, technologically advanced suits of armour were still only human. They still made mistakes, the same as everyone else. They just did it on a less frequent basis.
Mistakes such as Jorge spraying suppressive fire too low over the top of Carter's helmet, causing him to duck and miss a Skirmisher, giving the alien free reign to run at the Spade and latch itself onto his armour. It was only quick thinking of B312's account, and mastery of combat knives, that the birdlike creature was dead, and Carter had come out of it unharmed. Mistakes such as the Lieutenant getting up close and personal too many times with the Covies; two rounds bouncing off her visor when her shields had been drained hadn't damaged the material, but they had caused her HUD to become buggy, and it was no longer functioning correctly. Which meant that she had to swap seats with Carter, since she was the one driving and he was not, and take her helmet off to work on fixing her HUD.
The Commander was not impressed with that maneuver, and the Spade's engine died out as he brought the vehicle to a stop. Even with the helmet in the way, she knew he was scowling at her; as it was, it bled into his tone of voice as he scolded her for doing something so foolish. "What the hell are you doing? You shouldn't have your helm off in a combat zone. We might not be engaged in a firefight as of this moment, but that doesn't mean a damn thing when it comes to what's safe and what's not."
B312 looked at him slowly, one eyebrow arching in a manner all too casual that belied her lax attitude about the situation. "Is there a problem with me doing some on-field repairs? You expect us to be at our best, but how can we when our technology is failing us? My HUD is acting up, and would you rather I had that going on in the middle of heavy fire?"
The other Spartan grunted in distaste, and shook his head. "Fine," he assented, "But I'm not driving until you're finished. I can't risk you because you're leaving yourself open like that." The way he settled back in his seat was a finality to his statement; proof that he would not back down on his word.
"Fine," she answered nonchalantly, "But don't go blaming me if whoever's left of 3 Charlie wind up dead because you lingered here waiting for me to finish repairs because you're scared."
Carter slapped his open palm against the steering wheel of the Spade. "Damn it." He was silent for a few minutes, before re-opening the COM frequency which Jun was using, questioning whether the rifleman had yet noted any signs of the missing Trooper squad.
"That's a negative…" Noble Three paused a heartbeat, followed quickly by, "Hold on, picking up a distress signal now, boss. Patching you through."
There was a wash of static, after which the tired-sounding voice of one of the missing soldiers came through. "Mayday! 3 Charlie Six, does anyone read? We were attacked by Covenant forces. The Covenant is on Reach. I repeat: the Covenant is on Reach."
A quiet groan of frustration escaped the team's leader, and he shot the Lieutenant another unseen look that expressed his resentment at what she was doing, before he engaged the truck once more, and it growled as it resumed the journey forward. He'd barely driven a click when the 3 Charlie Trooper squawked over the COM again, and this time, he sounded somewhat panicked. "We're under attack! I repeat: mayday, mayday. 3 Charlie 6; we're under attack by the Covenant. I've got wounded – cannot hold this position!"
The lone wolf barely had time to brace as Carter gunned the Spade, and this time the engine roared as the vehicle whipped through Visegrád's landscape. By the time he'd brought the vehicle to a sliding stop outside another kiva crawling with alien scum, as well as the first human life they'd seen since those native farmers, she had her HUD repaired, helmet on, and she was jumping out of the vehicle even before it had fully finished halting.
Her MA37 snapped up, and she fired a short burst into a cluster of Grunts which had been barreling towards the three Troopers. Most of the aliens reacted by scattering; their leader, an Ultra, squealed its anger and turned its sights – and Needler – onto her instead. Better me than them she thought sardonically, and with another burst from the AR, dropped the Ultra like a sack of potatoes – alien potatoes – before it could fire off a shot. The rest were eliminated from a crossfire thanks to Jorge and Carter, and when the Commander came up next to where she'd crouched, reloading his DMR, he told her through gritted teeth, "You're damned lucky, Lieutenant. But don't think I'm going to let that slide. Soon as we get back to base, you and I are going to have a talk."
Her only response was to give him a good old two-fingered salute – Jorge saw and gave a low chuckle of amusement, which caused Carter to growl in irritation. Evidently, he still was not done chewing her out about taking her helmet off on the field. Like she really cared what he thought either way – she'd needed to make repairs ASAP, and it had been opportunistic to do it then, before her HUD got worse and she couldn't see out of her visor at all. She did not really mean to get on his bad side; they just happened to be clashing because both of them were very stubborn, and stubborn-natured people always clashed with one another, teammates or not.
Even as another Spirit swung in overhead after the team had downed the last lot of Covenant that Emile had been struggling to get rid of, Carter was quick to thunder out his orders. "Hold them off until Kat can hack the controls! No stopping for a breather, no matter how badly you wanna take a nap. This is the last leg, Spartans."
"Much as I like crackin' Covie skulls, I can't wait to get back to base. I'm gettin' real bored of all this nonstop shooting. Need a change of scene, you know?" Emile stated whole-heartedly, to which Jorge grumbled at his teammate, displeased.
"Quit your complaining and get on with your job. This is what you were trained for." the heavy weapons specialist chided, and there was something threatening in the way he swung his machine gun around as he shifted to find a better angle to fire from. "Unless you're not as bloodthirsty as you seem to make out, and your eagerness to kill Alpha Bravos is nothing more than a front?"
"Drop it and focus on your damn jobs." Carter dictated crossly; he sounded peevish, which was a stark contrast to his usual calm, controlled demeanour. Clearly this rivalry was an old one, and one which the team leader was beyond tired of.
"Yes Sir." Emile answered tightly, and he pumped buckshot into the chest of an Elite Major, which sent it stumbling backwards, and was the perfect opportunity for B312 to finish off by sneaking up behind it and slitting its throat. "Damn, Six, the hell you come from?"
Beneath her helmet, she felt her lips curling in amusement, teeth baring in a wolflike grin that no-one could see. "Oh, you know," she said breezily, "Close by, watching your back. I'm as good as any SpecOps hinge-head at sneaking around."
"I'll take you at your word." he muttered, and she was sure that beneath his own helm, his face would have been twisted into a mixture of surprise at being caught off-guard, and indignation at his kill being stolen from in front of him. Much like her, he took great pride in his bloodthirsty work, and he was disappointed that he wasn't able to tango with the split-lip for longer than he had.
Speaking of split-lips…
One of the tall, saurian warriors leapt from the side of a Spirit dropship, accompanied by a squad consisting of Jackals and Grunts, and rushed towards the Spartans who stood ready in the courtyard, roaring a battle cry as it drew out a plasma repeater. The alien was quickly cut down thanks to Jorge's efforts, and its subordinates doubled their rate of fire as they swarmed towards the armoured soldiers. It was as though the Covenant was throwing every alien warrior they could at the Spartans; once this group was cut down, another and then another Spirit came and deposited more of the ugly creatures. All were intent on wiping the Spartans out. All of them failed miserably. Eventually, though, they had the upper hand in numbers, and it was like the very air itself was teeming with the damned things.
"Kat?" Carter questioned tersely, backing up into B312 as he darted into cover without knowing she was there, and knocking her arm which threw off her aim – the shot went wild, but a knife flung into the Jackal's throat ended its premature squawk of triumph. She cursed at him quietly, and he performed a hand gesture that indicated apology. She would have to let that do, she supposed, as the Jackal hadn't even been too close for comfort, but if it ever happened again, safe to say she wouldn't be happy.
The cryptanalyst's reply came not a moment too soon. "Just about… there. We're in." And barely before the words had finished falling from her mouth, the Commander was ordering them all to, "Get your asses in that outpost, NOBLE, on the double."
Emile, Jorge, and Six rushed into the outpost like water bursting from a dam, and only once the door slammed shut behind them, could they all feel secure. The assault specialist was the sole Spartan of the team who was relaxed; he leaned against a wall in a laidback manner, shotgun hanging loosely from his fingers. The rest of them gathered closer to the Commander, waiting to see what their next course of action would be.
Unintentionally or deliberately, Kat shifted subtly closer to the lone wolf, bumping against her shoulder. When the Lieutenant turned to look, a silent question posed upon her lips, she found that the team's executive officer was no longer there, and stood closer to Carter. That was unusual behaviour – at least, to her. Among Spartans it was a gesture of camaraderie, of I'm here, sibling, something familiar and somewhat comforting. However, to the lone wolf it was alien, being so unused to fighting alongside her own kind once again. She didn't know what to make of it, and decided that she was best to question the other on the matter at a later date, if the opportunity arose. For the time being she chose to focus on the mission, listening intently to Carter as he gave word on what they were going to do.
"We need to find the control room. From there, Kat can get the relay back online. Emile, post here. If we flush any hostiles, they're yours. Alright, let's do this."
"Noble Six, search that body." Kat ordered as she stepped past the corpse of yet another civilian slaughtered by the Covenant, lying in a pool of his own blood.
B312 didn't bother arguing; she just got to work patting the back of the man's jacket, seeing if he had anything of value on him. She paused for a moment as she caught sight of Carter crouching beside a wounded Corporal in her peripheral vision, and she swung her gaze towards him, distracted for the time being. It was almost jarring to look at the blatant juxtaposition between foot soldier and Spartan, and it was not just because despite both being clad head-to-toe in armour, the Commander was clearly far bigger. There was a nameless disparity that marked the legendary supersoldiers and regular soldiers; something that went far deeper than augmentations or training.
"Where's the rest of your unit?" he questioned, and the lone wolf didn't think she'd ever heard him speak so gently. That, too, was jarring.
"We got split." the Trooper answered, and his voice was strained; he sounded out of breath. "I don't think they… It sounded bad on the comms. Real bad. I heard them screaming. Nothing I could've done, but I wish I'd been able to."
Another thing she had not expected from Carter, was for him to reach out and place a hand on the Corporal's knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We'll make sure the Covenant pay for what they've done here, don't you worry," he said reassuringly, "In the meantime, you just stay put. We'll get you a combat surgeon."
Some unnamed feeling curled in her gut, and she focused on what she'd been told to do instead. When she turned the body over to search his front, it didn't take long for her to discern that he'd been killed by an energy sword through the abdomen. She could not help but feel almost sorry for this civilian that she'd never even known. It would have been a painful way to go, no doubt about it. Something clattered to the floor, breaking into her thought train, and she picked the object up, examining it carefully. A data module, of some kind. Best give it to Kat she decided, before garnering the Lieutenant Commander's attention. "Found something."
The cryptanalyst turned to her in a manner that was almost impatient, head canted to one side as she took stock of what it was that B312 was holding. Then, without so much as a thanks, she snatched the data module away, tucking it into a pouch of her armour. "I'll take that, Six. Not your domain." she dismissed coolly, and for the first time did the lone wolf have the sensation of resentment towards her bubbling up in her chest.
"I've got a live one over here!" Jorge called, pulling a young woman from out of her hiding spot beneath a staircase. "Come on, out you come." Despite his sheer stature, his movements were slow and deliberate, and he kept his voice as pleasant as possible, to make sure he didn't scare the civilian. It was clear to any outsider that the heavy weapons specialist was the most human of them all.
Regardless of how he treated her, the woman struggled against his grip, repeatedly smashing her fist against his armour to no avail. She babbled frantically in another language, her voice high and panicked. Whatever had taken place inside the relay had traumatized her. She was not keen on being manhandled by what appeared to her to be the same sort of creatures that had killed the other humans – tall, powerful, clad in impervious armour plating – although anyone who knew better would realize that Spartans and Elites were not the same thing.
The lone wolf hadn't realized that Carter had walked up to stand beside Kat, until he was speaking, wondering if the big Spartan had a handle on the woman with just one word alone. "Jorge…"
She skittered a step sideways and flexed her fingers on her assault rifle as something to distract her. Even without looking at her vitals on her HUD, she knew that her heart was racing. She could feel it thumping in her chest. How the hell had he been so quiet? She must have really been unfocused, which wasn't a good thing – she needed to get her head back into the game.
"I got her." Jorge assured them, setting his machine gun down to get a better grip on the civilian with both hands instead of just the one. He swung her around in front of him, giving her shoulders a gentle shake, and she stopped struggling, going limp like a cat that had given up the fight. "Keep still, and I'll release you." he told her firmly.
A moment's silence, before she quietly admitted in that same language, "Még... Itt vannak." No-one showed any indication whatsoever of knowing what she'd said save for Jorge, who stiffened in alarm.
Sounds like Hungarian. Jorge's native tongue.
She'd barely begun to wonder why Jorge had gone so still when a purple-armoured Elite jumped down behind the big man, swinging its energy sword in a wide arc. The Spartan reacted faster and dodged the weapon, pulling the civilian to the ground and covering her beneath his armoured form. Frustrated, the hinge-head snarled as it turned its sights on the rest of the team, and two more Elites of the same armour variation and colouring jumped down behind it as it charged forwards, though it was easy enough to tell that it was the leader due to the prongs on its helmet.
Emile's voice crackled over TEAMCOM, and he sounded mildly alarmed as he questioned what was occurring without him. "What's your status, over?!"
"We've been engaged!" Carter all but bellowed at his subordinate; although it was not necessary to yell, the words came out louder than intended due to the adrenaline flowing through his veins. He stood and braced, and, along with the lone wolf, fired his MA37 to try and halt the split-lip's advance. However, it was of no use, as the saurian's shields absorbed the fire, and it continued on its path, impervious to the hail of bullets that rained upon it. It swung its energy sword in an arc once more, aiming to attack Kat since she stood there frozen, but as with Jorge, the Commander reacted faster and shoved her into a wall out of the way, the sword hissing as it slashed the nearby computer monitors instead.
Why won't you just die? B312 thought angrily, gritting her teeth and keeping up the hail of fire as the alien set its sights on her. Finally, its shields collapsed and died, just as she was almost out of ammunition for her current magazine. Unable to bring its sword to bear, and desperate to knock one of the Spartans out of the fight, it barreled into the Lieutenant and knocked her to the ground before darting off down the hallway the team had just come down. The impact jarred her out of her senses and knocked her assault rifle out of her hands with a clatter, and for a few agonizing minutes, her vision was filled with static as her brain struggled to reboot. She tasted copper in her mouth, and realized she'd bitten her lip upon her helmet connecting with the concrete.
"Bad guy comin' out!" Carter shouted, and it took her a moment to realize that he wasn't talking to anyone in the room, but warning Noble Four of the purple-armoured bastard that was in the process of rushing his way.
The lone wolf didn't even have time to push herself to her feet and jump back into the fray. Before she even so much as moved, there was another alien coming at her, and this one grabbed at her neck, extending a wrist-mounted energy dagger. She bared her teeth at the ugly creature even though it could not see and was quick to block the rapid strike, prior to smashing her fist into its mandibles, snapping its head sideways and stunning it. That also served to piss it off, because the moment it recovered, it roared in her face, mandibles flaring outwards, and made another attempt at stabbing her. Before it could get the weapon even close to her armour, Carter closed in behind it and kicked it in the abdomen, giving it cause to snarl at them as it scrambled backwards, and out of the line of fire as Kat finally seemed to respond and opened up with her Magnum.
The team leader turned and kicked Six's discarded MA37 across the floor to her, before offering his hand and easing her to her feet. Just for a single heartbeat, they locked eyes, even beneath their visors, and she offered the Commander the tiniest nod of thanks. He responded by swiping two fingers against the bottom of his faceplate, about where his mouth would be, before swinging towards the doorway, where the two aliens stood, one of them holding the screaming, wounded Corporal as a shield. The hinge-head dragged the soldier through the doorway after its companion, prying his fingers off the doorframe when he tried to hold on for dear life. Even as they all disappeared out of sight, the poor man's screams could still be heard.
You sick alien freaks.
Behind them, the civilian girl began to panic, and her cries of fear became mixed into the general chaos of the shitty, sideways situation.
Emile once again made an inquiry over the comms, and he sounded eager to join the fight that he'd missed out on by staying in the entrance room. "That tango blew past me! Permission to pursue?"
"Negative, Four, stay on the entrance!" Carter answered firmly as he shifted into a combat stance, fingers readying his assault rifle. "Two, handle the civilian! Five and Six, clear the hole!"
As one unit, Jorge and Six hastened forwards through the doorway, the lone wolf choosing that moment to reload while she moved. Noble Five slammed the door shut behind them with a heavy thud, and the hunt began.
B312 sauntered back into the control room of the relay outpost, trying not to limp despite the gash in her thigh, thanks to one of the hinge-heads that had gotten in a lucky blow with its energy sword. It hurt like hell, and while the wound had cauterized, it could still cause problems to her – she would need to see a medic later on. She leaned against a wall beside Jun, the rifleman having finally joined them while she and Jorge were working on clearing out the Covies, and tuned into the conversation between commander and executive officer, noting with some amusement how Carter was all but hovering behind Kat as he asked her, "How long?"
"Question of my life. If the question is when will this station be back online, two weeks, earliest." she muttered, barely turning her head to even look at him. "This is plasma damage. All major uplink components are fried. It was already in need of repair when we got here, but that Elite made it worse."
Carter leaned in to take a closer look, and there was frustration edging his voice as he stated, "Two minutes is too long."
"Which is why I'm splicing into the main overland bundle to get you a direct line to Colonel Holland." The way Kat spoke seemed to suggest that she was annoyed at her rundown having been interrupted. "You're in my light, Commander."
The lone wolf shook her head and decided to tune out of whatever conversation next ensued. It wasn't concerning her, and if there was anything she needed to know, she would pick it up soon enough. Her head was still spinning from connecting with the ground – a second time hadn't helped, and that was when the squid-head had managed to wound her. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep. It was not the fighting that had worn her down, so much as being on the battlefield while trying to adjust to being part of a team, that was getting to her. There were so many different personalities – she and Carter clashed in particular. He was so damned stubborn, and no-nonsense to boot. Explained why he didn't appreciate it when she back-talked. Although she had been right, he hadn't taken her attitude lightly.
You're damned lucky, Lieutenant. But don't think I'm going to let that slide. Soon as we get back to base, you and I are going to have a talk. His voice echoed in her skull, and she hissed out a curse between clenched teeth. Was that how it was going to be, then? The two of them butting heads and getting on one another's nerves? It wasn't like she was trying to be civil. There was just something about him that got under her skin and irritated her, like a pesky mosquito that was determined to suck the life right out of her.
She only re-focused on her surroundings when Jun tapped her on the shoulder and began to stride out of the control room. Emile peeled himself off the wall where he'd been resting his back, and Jorge wandered past with the civilian in tow. She blinked a few times and lingered a second more, watching as Carter took off his helmet and turned to the monitors, his attention evident on whatever uplink Kat had managed to secure. She would have stayed to listen, but the Lieutenant Commander jerked her head down the hall, and she decided that perhaps she would follow after all.
Regardless, she managed to catch the tail end of the conversation: Carter's firm yet tired voice declaring WINTER CONTINGENCY, and Colonel Holland's awed murmur of, "May we all live long enough to prevent them from finding our homeworld."
A/N #2: translation for the Hungarian
Még... Itt vannak = There's more