Chapter 29: The Battle of Jeannette 5, Pt. 2

"This is Four-One, we need ammo for the M247!"

Vivian was already running as fast as she could back to the perimeter. In each hand, she held a rectangular ammunition box filled with belts of 7.62 millimeter ammunition. Another two belts were draped around her neck. Around her, plasma mortars continued to fall, vaporizing any who were unfortunate enough to be caught in the blast. A Scorpion received a direct hit; the engine exploded and the turret was blown off. For a moment, it soared a few feet above the ground before smashing into the ground and rolling over. Even from fifty meters away, she could feel the heat from the plasma.

Weaving between Marines and Army infantrymen running to different positions in the line as well as wounded personnel retreating, she searched for the platoon's heavy weapon squad, Gladius Four. The entirety of Gladius Platoon was stretched along the left flank of the ruins of the turret complex. Mangled Covenant corpsesa littered the defenses. What was once a hastily built but nonetheless sturdy and organized line of sandbag emplacements, titanium barricades, gun positions, towers, bunkers, prefabricated buildings, and even vehicles was now a ruin of wreckage. Sandbags were in piles, barricades were melted and blasted, bunkers were caved in, and most of the elevated buildings had toppled over. Many burnt out vehicle hulks were spread out along the debris as well. With so many overturned barricades and metal pilings, it looked like an extended series made of trash mounds with gigantic skeletal remains poking out of it. It was so large that the UNSC defenders were climbing on top of it and entrenching in the ruins.

They were clinging on desperately. Scorpions rolled up the wreckage, their weight flattening out the sections they crossed, halted on the opposite slope, raised the main gun, and fired right into the face of the enemy. Dozens of Covenant disappeared in each blast. The tanks would then roll back over the barricade, reload, and repeat the tactic. Some of the Covenant tanks and anti-armor troops caught onto it and waited patiently amid heavy UNSC fire. When the Scorpion just began to come over the top, Grunts armed with Type-33 fuel rod guns would fire into the exposed bottom of the tank. Immobilized, the driver would have to bail out. Sometimes, the gunner remained at his post and chewed up approaching aliens with the mounted machine gun. When he ran out of ammunition, he too would retreat. But a sniper or well-thrown plasma grenade would usually finish him first.

Overhead, a massive air battle raged. Hornets and Army Aviation Falcons dueled with the Banshees for supremacy. Falcon gunners swiveled back and forth, their tracer rounds sweeping through the air. Riddled with bullets, Banshees simply fell apart, pieces of their purple armor chipping away and sprinkling onto the ground below like snowflakes. Although they were fast, the Covenant aircraft were not resilient like the Hornets and Falcons. Rapid fire blue plasma bolts thudded against their olive drab armor. Although many plates were melted or ripped away from the impact, the UNSC aircraft kept flying. Every so often, however, one would be hit by the mammoth green bolt of a Banshee's fuel rod cannon. In a cloud of crackling green plasma, a Hornet would explode into flames. Blackened, the hulk plummeted toward the earth, breaking up as it did.

Struggling to the line, she saw a trio of Warthogs rolled up to where the turret complex once stood. A Scorpion was just rolling backwards off it. Having left a path in the wreckage, the Warthogs pushed up, took cover among the ruins, and their gunners began opening fire. Marines, armed XM510 grenade launchers, fired shell after shell into the oncoming infantry. Covenant squads were broken up by the impact and then cut down by M41machine gun fire. Entire waves of Covenant infantry were killed, their bodies falling in lines. Those that managed to close in on the UNSC perimeter fell into piles of their dead.

There was no real order to Gladius Platoon or any other unit on the perimeter. Squads, platoons, and entire companies were mostly mixed up. Officers who were killed were replaced and managed the ad hoc forces as best they could. Ahead, she saw the weapons squad embedded directly beside the main wreckage of the fallen building. Many squashed Brutes were visible, their tongues hanging out, their arms protruding upwards, and blood caked upon their flesh.

Practically diving into the gun position, Vivian lay flat on her face as Covenant plasma fire flew right over her head. Not waiting for her to get up, the Marines occupying the position took the canisters from her hands and the belts from around her neck. Catching her breath, she sat up and looked around. Further down the left flank, Frost's squad was fighting beside a damaged Warthog. Although its front wheels were blown out and the engine was shot to pieces, the mounted M41 was still operational. Grant was manning it, firing long bursts into the Covenant. Briefly looking up, she watched the tracers cut a swathe in the droves of Grunts, Jackals, Brutes, and Elites.

Pushing down the line as plasma continued to fall and UNSC troops fired back, she eventually reached the squad. Before she even could man a position, Frost thrust a canteen into her face. Without hesitation, she took it from his grasp, unscrewed the cap, and took a long drink. When she finished, she sighed loudly as a drop of water slid from the corner of her mouth and down her chin. Handing it back, he took a swig of it too. Tucking it back onto the attachment on the back of his belt, he picked up a case of M41 SPNKR rockets and then handed another to Vivian. Then, he motioned for her to follow him. Crawling on their bellies, they maneuvered up through the wreckage. Among the ruins were the dead Covenant as well as humans. Many were cut into ribbons by the velocity of so many Covenant munitions. Others were burned from head to toe. Some looked like they were just asleep, their eyes naturally closed and their mouths open ever so slightly, as if they were drawing breath. More than once, Vivian stopped to check for a pulse in the hopes they were still alive. None were. What was most frightening were the ones whose eyes were still open. Wide and fixed, their eyes lacked the normal light one saw in a living person's gaze. They almost looked like false eyes that one found in a detailed mannequin or other false figure. Vivian did her best not to look at them, but there were so many strewn through the wreckage. Moving through the path Frost forged, it was like a tunnel, with the metal beams, barricades, barbed wire, and dead bodies making a ghastly ceiling for it. A strap of her webbing would get caught on a piece of jagged metal or the outstretched hand of a corpse. Each time she seemed to turn, she was confronted with the frozen, terrified, agonized face of a dead Marine.

By the time Vivian caught up with Frost, she thought she was going to lose her mind. In the forward section of the perimeter, they came to a semicircular pocket. Here, she found Knight and Steele crouching behind the rubble. Smoking a cigarette, the sniper deployed the bipod of his weapon system, aimed, and fired. Vivian didn't see what he hit but could tell from his gritty, satisfied chuckle he found his mark. Knight was sitting in a pile of M41 SPNKR tubes. They handed him the yellow cases and he deftly reloaded the launcher, rose to his knee, and began aiming.

"Backblast clear," Frost said. The Marine fired one rocket which soared over the heads of the Covenant and slammed into a Revenant that was closing in. It took the head off the Elite sitting in the passenger seat and then detonated against the gun, The rear of the vehicle exploded and the driver was sent flying out. A Ghost was tearing down the line instead of engaging the UNSC. Leading the target, Knight fired again. It was an impressive shot, with the rocket colliding with the Ghost's engine. The small craft detonated, a combination of yellow and blue plasma flames emitting from the front. Cartwheeling forward, it came to a stop on top of its burned occupant. A moment later, the Ghost trembled and then its engine exploded for good, sending out a small blue shockwave of plasma.

Vivian slid in between Steele and Frost, raised her MA5, and began firing in short controlled bursts. There was no need to look down the scope, they were so close and in range that all she needed to do was point and squeeze the trigger. She and Frost focused on taking out the Grunts who were trying to overrun their position. Knight continued to fire upon enemy vehicles even as his supply of rockets began to dwindle. Steele, on the other hand, had plenty of ammunition and continued to pick off Elites. The loss of their commanders send Grunts and even Jackals into a panic, forcing them to give up the ground they were taking until another one of the superior aliens collected them.

Vivian felt like a machine. In less than a minute, she would expend all sixty rounds of a magazine. Then, she would roll onto her side, ejecting the mag as she did. With her other hand, she pulled another from her chest rig pockets, slammed it into the MA5B, went prone again, and kept firing. Its persistent, rhythmic, and second nature. All of her training in OCS began to gel with the hands-on infantry schooling she received from Master Gunnery Sergeant Swing. Although her limbs seemed to move on her own, Vivian felt like she was in control. It was a completely different feeling than being on the bridge of the I'm Alone. There, she issued orders, plotted courses, selected targets, and coordinated the ships underneath her command. Yet there was a horrible, gut-wrenching amount of waiting. Ships had to close in on one another, objects and projectiles had to travel through space, weapons needed to be charged, and there were simply so many variables she needed to be aware of. From the charge percentage of the MAC guns to the stability of the I'm Alone's reactor, how many Archer Missile Pods were still available, when to use emergency thrusters, how many casualties the ship had taken, the integrity of the hull, how many of the ship's aircraft were deployed, the status of damage control, and so much more. And not just for the I'm Alone, but all the ships under her command.

Down here, war had become far simpler. The enemy was in front of her. Friendly forces were behind her and to her left and right. In her hands was a functioning MA5B assault rifle and she still had well over two hundred rounds of ammunition. All she needed to do was open fire. Simple, easy to understand, clear. No variables, no conditions, nothing to monitor. Sweeping the barrel left, she squeezed off a five round burst and killed a Grunt. Adjusting, she shot the Grunt beside the first, and then one next to it. In sixty rounds, she eliminated an entire squad of them. When she reloaded again, she realized she was smiling. Reaching over, she tapped Frost on the shoulder and got his attention.

"Did you see that!?" she cried. "I got five of'em in one mag!"

"Get five more of them, rifleman!" Frost encouraged her. Vivian rolled back onto her stomach, crawling to the lip of their cramped bastion, and poked her head up. She cupped her hand around her mouth.

"We're going to rip your Prophets' fucking guts out!" she screamed, then followed it up with a few more controlled bursts. When she finished off another squad plus a Jackal, she slid down the reload. Whooping for joy, she slid another magazine into her rifle and went to aim. All of a sudden, it felt like someone struck her on the top of her head with a baseball bat. Reeling onto her back, Vivian fell from the lip of the position. Her helmet rolled off and she found herself looking up at the dueling Banshees and Hornets.

A moment later, Frost was over her. He leaned so close his face nearly took up her entire vision. Letting his MA5B hang by its strap, his hands touched her neck, her face, the top and back of her head. His gray eyes were wide but he seemed completely focused. Vivian just lay there, blinking, and allowed him to conduct his examination. When he finished, he leaned back and gave her a thumbs-up.

"You're good!"

"I'm not dead?" Vivian asked.

"Not yet!" Frost replied with a shrill laugh. Grabbing Vivian by her chest rig, he pulled her up. Vivian held his wrists while he did. When she was sitting up, he went behind her, picked up her helmet, and then crouched in front of her. He turned it around in his hands; on the font was a blackened dent on the front. Frost laughed. "Carbine round ricochet, you lucky swabbie!" he cried, then put the helmet back on her head. After fixing it, he gave her another thumbs-up and she returned the gesture.

Before they returned to the line, Steele swore loudly and drew his M6E.

"Frost, we got Skirmishers! Hundreds of them!"
Vivian returned to the lip of the position with Frost. Steele was correct; a flood of the nimble aliens were rushing towards them. They were armed with plasma pistols, needlers, and shielded gauntlets. Squawking and screaming, they came on despite the automatic firing cutting them down in droves.

Taking aim, Vivian peppered them with her MA5B. She was able to knock some down, the heavy caliber rounds bursting their fragile knees and severing arms at the shoulder. But others were too quick and were able to dodge the bursts, expertly jumping, rolling, or side-stepping. Some dropped their own weapons and reached, ready to fight with their talons instead. Coming up to the position, one tried to lunge at Vivian. Standing up, she cracked it across the jaw with the butt of her MA5B. The blow was so heavy it broke the creature's jaw. Yet it hardly recoiled and came at her again. This time, she threw the heavy rifle in its face and halted it for a moment. It was enough time to draw her M6 and shoot it through the head. Three more came and she was able to kill them all before reloading. Beside her, Knight grabbed one by the neck, clocked it three times with his massive fist, and then threw it on the ground hard. Picking his rocket launcher, he caved in the Skirmisher's head with it. Frost tackled one to the ground and opened its throat with his KA-BAR knife, and then began to lay into another. Wielding his sniper rifle like a club, Steele swung and bashed a Skirmisher on the side of its head. Roaring, he struck another, then a third, a fourth, and a fifth.

Finally, a sixth was able to duck under the swing, pop back up, and latch onto the rifle. The two entered a tug of war match over it. Steele, ever crafty, let go and let the alien reel backwards. Picking up his M6E again, he shot it through the head. Before he could retrieve his rifle, more came on and he shot them all down. But when the magazine ran dry, a Skirmisher came up and tackled him to the ground. It then began to pummel him on his chest and face. Vivian was still reloading, so Frost disengaged from his fight, tackled the alien, straddled it, and then drove his KA-BAR blade through its eye.

With her left hand, Vivian drew her own combat knife. When a Skirmisher came close, she hit it on the side of the head with the side of her pistol. While ducking a wild blow, she then bounced back up and sliced it across its neck. On either side of the position, Skirmishers streamed up the slope of wreckage. She heard war cries behind her as the Marines and Army infantrymen began to engage in hand to hand combat. Automatic fire increased in its ferocity.

They were losing ground. Vivian found herself instinctively back up. Knight, Frost, and Steele did as well, firing from the hip and killing them with knives when the Skirmishers got too close. When a line of ten Skirmishers came at them, Vivian knew it was going to be bad. Then, a burst of M379 machine gun and MA5B rifle fire cut them down. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Langley, Grant, and Carris charging down the slope. Each of them jumped into the position and began to lay heavy fire into the Skirmishers. In that brief moment of relief, Vivian, Frost, Knight, and Steele were able to retrieve their dropped weapons, reload, and join the firing line. On either side of them, more Marines and Army troopers were pushing down the slope. Driving the Skirmishers back with automatic fire, grenades, and bayonets, they took new positions on the front of the slope.

Just as she resumed her position, she heard her comms crackle to life.

"Net call, net call. All call signs, get real low in your holes and keep your heads down. Navy fire support coming in. Just as the link ended, Vivian found herself engulfed in darkness. It was not like when a cloud passed overhead and briefly covered the sun, providing a modicum of shade over the world. All light seemed to be blotted and the world around her became very dim. At first, she looked at her hands, her body, and the others to see if she was seeing things. Finally, she looked up.

Approaching from behind was Determined Guardian, just returning from the sortie against the light Covenant ships that were in Jeannette 5's atmosphere, loomed over the base. Marines and Army infantrymen began to whoop and scream for joy. Vivian, swept up by the glory of the UNSC Navy, stood up and took off her helmet. It took a few hands to pull her back down, but her smile remained.

Even the Covenant seemed stunned. Their attack halted, the hordes of infantry gazed up at the sky, and the vehicles began stopping. Then, as they finally realized what was about to happen, they began to retreat. It was too late; Determined Guardian leveled all her point-defense weaponry and cannons. Massive shells began to tear into the Covenant, obliterating them, tearing their vehicles into chunks and then into pieces. Plasma explosions blossomed all through the lines as their supply crates and fuel cells detonated. Like a wave having crashed upon the shore and receding back into the sea, the Covenant were routed. But then the frigate delivered the final blow: Determined Guardian fired her MAC gun.

The golden light struck in the center of the Covenant task force. It was a massive, bright explosion that seemed to rock the planet. Vivian's hair was blown backwards so severely it was released from the regulation bun. The bottom of her BDU jacket flapped and she felt heat wash over her brow. The shockwave was so great it hurt her face and she gritted her teeth. Despite how bright it was, she looked through her fingers to see chunks of the earth thrown upwards, Wraiths picked up and tossed away like scraps of paper, and Banshees overhead getting swatted to the planet's surface. It was the most awesome display of raw power Vivian had witnessed in her life, more striking than any number of the weapons she witnessed during an orbital battle.

When the explosion finally settled and the light faded, a great dust cloud gently descended over the battlefield. Before it veiled all before her, Vivian saw the gigantic crater in the ground and the thousands of bodies and burned vehicles around it. Orders were issued to return to the main line of defense and one by one, the others around her began to withdraw. Men and women took out cigarettes and began to smoke. Others took a long drink of water. Some talked as if nothing had happened. Corporal Steele, having sat down, caught his breath. Carris stood over him and he waved her off.

"I'm good love, I'll be with you in a sec," he said, holding his ribs. Instead, she crouched down and made him climb onto her back. Hooking his legs around her middle and his arms around her neck, Steele allowed himself to be carried. As they trudged over the slope, Vivian heard him snickering. "Best taxi cab around," he remarked to her. "What's your fare?"

"You can't afford it," was all Carris said to him.

Soon, Vivian was alone on the front of the line, engulfed in a cloud of dust, listening to the trembling power of Determined Guardian's engines as she steadily drifted away. She didn't want to leave just yet. Something inside her enveloped her rapidly beating heart and she wanted to continue gazing at the battlefield. In front of her were fields and piles of corpses, and more beyond that were obscured by the dust. A horrible yet alluring acrid scent of burned flesh, the stale taste of dirt, the musty powder, all hung in the air. Vivian, holding her rifle in her right hand and helmet in her left, looked out, looked out, looked out at the battlefield that had become hers. She felt as though she had always been there, or perhaps, she had just come to realize this was something she always wanted.

"Do you feel that?" a voice asked. Vivian turned around. Frost, holding his MA5B in both hands, trudged towards her. "I said, do you feel that?" he asked again. "That fire inside, that clawing that seems like it's crawling down your throat but it's coming back up at the same time. That adrenaline, that life coursing through your veins. That your heart has never been more full but it's breaking, too. The sting in your eyes, emptiness in your gut, and smoke in your head. Do you feel that?" Frost stopped beside her and looked out at the battlefield. A moment later, he turned his dusty face towards her. "That's war."

Vivian looked away, studying the dust cloud. Eventually, she shook her head a little.

"I don't have any words for it," was all she managed to say.

"You'll never be able to tell anyone about it," Frost said with a bit of a laugh. He looked at her with a deeply generous smile. "There's no way to describe it to anybody who hasn't been there." After a moment, he gently lowered and tapped his fist on her shoulder. "Welcome to the suck, Captain."

Together, they tramped back over the ruined perimeter. Stepping over the corpses of the Skirmisher attack, they went towards the interior of the base. Fresher troops replaced the beleaguered defenders at the perimeter. Personnel carried away the wounded by hand or on litters. Others filled transport Warthogs with as many wounded troopers as possible. Scorpion tanks rolled up and allowed the medics and corpsmen to place a multitude of litters on the hulk. Once the top of the tank was covered with wounded men, the driver turned the vehicle around and carefully drove it towards the field hospital.

Frost joined up with the rest of his squad who were regrouping with the rest of Gladius Platoon. Vivian fell behind, feeling very tired. Still, she felt satisfied at having survived her first ground battle. As fatigued as she was, she still felt a desire to fight. She didn't want to rest just yet but grudgingly accepted it. They would have a new mission soon, she assumed.

A loud, droning sound filled the air. Vivian stopped and saw a formation of Falcons heading towards the base. These were not the same aircraft that had participated in the battle above the landing area. They were battered, scorched by plasma, and some were so damaged they were having trouble maintaining a steady descent to the planet. When all finally landed, ground crews rushed towards the craft. Medical teams also joined them. Many wounded were pulled out from the aircraft but a number of Army infantrymen came out as well. Ammunition was brought to VTOLs. From the closest Falcon, two men carried away a wounded side-gunner. The other one came around to the other side and cupped both hands around his mouth.

"We need another gunner!" he hollered. "We have to go back out, we need another gunner!"

Vivian looked around and didn't see anyone approaching him. Pursing her lips and shouldering her rifle, she hurried over.

"What's going on?"

"One of our forward cavalry units has been caught in an ambush north of here! They're stuck in the woods and they're surrounded. Only way to get them out is by airlift! We're going back in to get them out!"

"Then I'll be your gunner!"

The man blinked in surprise. He finally noticed Vivian's eagle insignia on the collar of her M52B body armor. Wide-eyed, the raven-haired crew chief looked at her in disbelief. Vivian grasped his shoulder. "I'm just another crew member, Sergeant. Let's get up in the air."

Nodding resolutely, the Sergeant put on his flight helmet and then lowered the facial shield. Painted was the lower half a pale white skill with what looked like blood running from its teeth. He led her to the Falcon, situated her with the M247H machine gun on the right side of the aircraft, and then linked her into the Aviation's communications.

"Who's our tag along, Guo?" the female pilot asked.

"Captain Waters, UNSC I'm Alone," Vivian interjected.

"Heard a lot about your, Captain. They say your ships are invincible. Maybe some of that will rub off on us this time around. Chief Warrant Officer Susanne Vicario, our call sign is Mamba. Let's give the Covenant a bloody nose, shall we?"

Vivian flipped the sides up on the heavy gun, eager to give them more than that. Just as the Falcon began its takeoff procedure, she spotted Frost and his squad coming back towards the field. They were looking around. Then, Frost spotted her. Just as he began jogging towards the Falcon, it took off. Coming to a stop just where it had landed, he waved his arms and motioned for them to come back. Nobody seemed to notice and if he was hailing her over the SQUADCOM, she couldn't hear him, having already been patched into the AIRNET. Instead, she offered a quick wave and soon the landing zone was far behind her.

As the formation flew northward, Vivian checked the gun's feed, adjusted the sights, and when she received permission and had a clear field of fire, tested the gun. Several clean bursts indicated it was in working order. Looking around the interior, she found fresh blood on the bulkhead right behind where her head was. For a moment, she gazed at it, and then looked forward again.

"Hey Captain," Guo said over the comms. She looked over her shoulder and he pointed at a box that was strapped over the seat closest to her. "There's a face shield in that if you want it. It should attach to your CH252."

Thankful for his advice, she opened the box and pulled one out. The first was a slate gray facial shield that didn't quite fit her helmet's alignment. The next one was black and she was able to snap into place. She gave Guo a thumbs-up. "Looking pretty slick there, Cap'," he responded before looking back out of the craft.

Vivian looked ahead. Two formations of five Hornets each fell in in front of the Falcons. Behind the Falcons were also a large number of Pelicans. Then, the combined air unit lowered their elevation. The comms channel picked up again.

"We're coming in nap-of-the-earth," Vicario informed Vivian. "The Hornets are going to escort us in and then begin suppressing heavy enemy assets. The UH-144A's will go in first and suppress the immediate area around the trapped unit's pos. Then the Pelicans will drop in and take the lionshare of the trapped troops. Then our section will land and pick up the rearguard. You need to keep that gun up and firing or else we'll get shot to shit, roger?"

"Roger."

It was an impressive array of air power. The Hornets, sturdy gunships, led the way. Men in heavily armored suits on each side clutched M41 rocket launchers. Behind the first formations was the main body, composed of Falcons. Armed with machine guns, grenade launchers, and chin mounted cannons, they were heavy-duty aircraft and Vivian was confident they could sustain whatever beating the Covenant had in store for them. Behind them, the Pelicans were not without armaments, carrying their own cannons and missile pods as well. Again, she felt a sweeping feeling of simplicity and power. Everything clicked; they had an objective, a plan, and the means to carry it out. She was as eager and excited.

Soon, they began approaching the northern forests. These were not on fire like the ones to the southwest. But there were plumes of smoke rising from behind the tree line. Occasionally, she could just see the electrical edge of a furious blast of plasma. Like water rushing over a rock, the aircraft nimbly rose above the tree line. They looked like they were so close Vivian thought she could reach out and touch them.

Looking ahead, she saw the Hornets fire a salvo of missiles. The AIRNET came alive with different voices talking with one another. They then began firing their main guns and the passengers launched their rockets. Columns of earth rose from all the impacts. Both Hornet formations broke apart and began engaging individual targets. Bracing herself on the gun, Vivian prepared to fire. When the Falcons entered the airspace above the clearing the trapped troops were in, they immediately came under plasma fire. Thick streams of blue, green, and red plasma bolts flew skyward. Training her sights on the tree line, she began shooting at the spots the plasma came from. Squeezing the triggers, she rattled away at any target she could. It was a terrible dance of fire and flight; the Falcon sped forward, banked wide, and then committed to sharp turns. Vicario proved to be an excellent pilot, executing difficult turns and maneuvers, weaving through the automatic plasma fire and green blots of fuel rod bursts soaring towards them.

She couldn't actually see any of the Covenant infantry. They were concealed in the tree line and they were moving too fast. Only the trails of plasma indicated where they were and Vivian trained her fire wherever she saw them. Below, the trapped troops took cover behind their damaged vehicles and returned fire as best they could.

Vicario would take them in for a gun run, allowing Vivian to suppress targets. She would fly the Falcon the length of the clear and then take them back up. As they looped around to make another run, Vivian looked upon the array of aircraft circling over the battlefield. Dancing, twirling, turning, wheeling, banking; they reminded her of when she used to go with her grandparents to Lionel City's dumping grounds when they needed to dispose of large objects. Always, there would be hundreds of birds circling over the trash heaps, waiting for their chance to descend and peck around for morsels. Plasma lit up the sky and bombarded many of the VTOL's and dropships. A Pelican took a heavy hit and was forced to vacate the airspace. Two Hornets were also damaged and were forced to retreat. A Falcon received a direct hit and exploded in half; both pieces were engulfed in flames.

They came in for another run. As they did, the UH144A's followed them. Their grenade launchers tore into the tree lines on both sides of the clearing. Realizing their targets were going to slip away, the Covenant grew bolder and were now coming into the open. Vivian grinned as she swept the barrel back and forth, cutting down dozens of them at a time.

"Keep stacking them up, Captain!" Vicario shouted over the comms. "We can do this, we can do this!"

When they came back up, they backed away from the clearing. "Captain, Guo, squirt the woods about fifty yards back from the tree line. Let's work those areas over so the Pelicans can come in." Even though she was firing, Vivian had a decent view of the clearing. Landing in a line formation, the Pelicans descended among the convoy. Army infantrymen broke from cover and piled into the dropships. She could tell they were exceeding the passenger limit but there were too many lives on the line.

More plasma flew towards Vivian's Falcon. A stream of blue bolts looked like they were coming right at her head. Ducking to the side just in time, she watched as the bolts splashed against the VTOL's armor plating. Before she could resume her original position, pink needles began embedding themselves in the armor all around her. It was like being caught in a rainstorm. Despite the heavy ground fire, Vivian was able to sit back up and rattled off five and eight rounds bursts towards the enemy. Some of their fire began to abate.

Then, Vicario turned the aircraft back towards the clearing. Multiple Falcons were moving towards it. "Alright, our turn. Cap', sit on that gun and cover the ground-pounders."

"Roger."

Now the plasma fire became very intense. Elites, Grunts, Brutes, and Jackals came out into the open and fired directly at the Falcons. Vivian squeezed the triggers and shot down line after line of them. But they kept streaming out of the woods, replacing the previous detachment. As Army troopers ran towards their Falcon and the other aircraft, she was firing so much that the barrel was beginning to steam. She wanted to let up but the Covenant were closing in.

"Alright, we're clear, no eyes on friendly forces. We got'em all!" Guo shouted over the comms.

Vicario got them into the air. But all of a sudden, the AIRNET exploded with terrified and anxious voices. Some many pilots were talking that nobody could make it out. Only after Vicario screamed into the comms for everyone to shut up did the situation clarify and it sent a chill up Vivian's spine.

"Negative on exfil, we still have two on the ground."

"Covenant are going to overrun the EZ."

"Shortswords are inbound in one mike, thirty seconds. Counting."

"Hold your orbit."

Then Vicario spoke up.

"I've got eyes on them, they're at the eastern edge of the convoy. We'll go in and pick them up."

"You got Covvies closing in and an airstrike coming in, Mamba. That's a tight window."

"I'm going in. Cap', Gup, ready?"

"Good to go!"

The Falcon banked hard. Vivian held on tightly. The infantrymen already inside the Falcon made room for the next two men. They leaned out the sides, firing MA37 assault rifles into the trees. Vivian continued to spray the Covenant positions though the forest canopy. Her heart raced, she clenched her teeth so tightly she thought they would shatter. In her bones, she felt the Falcon descend. Blue and green plasma battered and biffed the Falcon as it came in for a landing. Suddenly, they were on the ground. Vivian saw two men in ACU's get up from behind a destroyed Mongoose and start bolting for the Falcon. Covenant troops came out of the woods again.

Horrified, Vivian watched as the second infantryman was shot in the leg by a plasma bolt. His cromade, already several meters ahead of him, didn't notice. Despite all their waving and pointing, he didn't understand. Vivian then became a passenger in her own body. Her hands undid the harness and she brushed by the trooper as he entered the aircraft. Running to the wounded man, who was crawling towards the Falcon, she grabbed him by his harness, stood him up, and with a grunt of exertion, hefted him across her shoulders. Between his body weight and armor, she wasn't sure if she could get him to the Falcon before her knees buckled. But she jogged as fast as she could. The men who had been desperately awaiting evacuation were now standing outside the Falcon in a half-moon formation and providing covering fire. The man they just rescued was on the gun, firing over their heads. With plasma bolts falling all around her, Vivian practically threw the wounded man onto the floor of the Falcon. Everybody piled in, crowding on top of each other, some still firing at the Covenant, all the while screaming, 'go, go, go!'

Vicario lifted the Falcon into the air. Rejoining the formation, they began to fly from the combat zone. As they did, Shortsword bombers flew by and the clearing exploded into a wall of flames of disrupted earth. Vivian, out of breath and exhausted, leaning back against the side of the Falcon, and was glad it was all over.

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Pages: 14

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Author's Note: Some ideas I have for a story I develop as the story is written, but others are developed even before I begin writing. Vivian joining Army Aviation on a rescue mission was one of them. Very gratifying to have that down. Lot of fun with this chapter, hope you enjoyed it. By the way, if you're looking for more Halo fanfiction to read, you can all mosey on over to my profile to read To Be Brave, a pre-Human-Covenant War fanfic set during the late Insurrection period. In it you'll find a more grounded story with less levity and themes revolving around patriotism, loyalty, and change. It already has five chapters and I'm back to updating it biweekly, so it would mean a lot to me if you could go check it out!

Comment Responses:

TheCarlosInferno: You'll see~ I told you guys there would be some stuff going on between Steele and Carris, and that'll be next chapter. I think you'll like it!

Qrs-jg: Ah, those youthful days. I'm much more comfortable writing ground warfare because I've spent so much time researching and as a research field, it's very accessible. And heck, if you're joining Navy OCS then you'll probably see how many glaring errors I've made in capturing the Navy. Granted, Halo doesn't do the best job either and I tried to make a conscious effort to do some justice to the portrayal of a fiction military based very much on the US Armed Forces, but there's a lot of inaccessible information and sometimes my research just comes up snake eyes. It's kind of funny you've mentioned that; with work being the way it is, I've been considering joining the Army. I'm not sure I'd go through OCS or just enlist yet, but I've just been looking into, nothing set in stone. I'm sure Navy OCS will be a great experience for you, though!

MightBeGone: Knight's absence stems from a balance of oversight on my part and picking and choosing which characters to focus on in combat. I've become more aware that through a character's POV, we don't get to see every little detail even in third person. Working towards a balance of the POV character's motions and sights and the overall setting/description of a scene is always something I'm working on. :D