After the brilliant maneuver in space, Nitoka's wing returned to the Orion for rearming. They'd lost only a few of their pilots, but considering how many thousands of Covenants they'd killed, it was a necessary loss. The battered and overheated Longswords entered the docking bay slowly, their engines whining and sputtering. The huge bay doors hummed as they slid closed, blocking some of the plasma fire from Covenant fighters. As they took their positions in the bays, each fighter quickly powered down. Clamps extended to hold them in place. Cables and hoses connected to their respective points. The fuel line attached and began pumping. The wires made contact between the Orion and the Longsword's computers. Data transferred between the two. Diagnostics were run. Technicians began repairs as mechanical arms reloaded the missiles and bullets.
Nitoka stood uneasy next to the Captain looking over the whole bay. The feeling of returning to combat was never pleasant. These little delays to reload just reminded her of it. The other pilots sat around a radio listening to the chatter from the planet. With the war in space raging, they had no idea what the planet combat was like. David listened especially close for word of his brother.
"...Try going left and distracting them, we'll plant explosives on the bridge…"
"...No sign… Need… Oh God…"
"...Roger that, 209th returning with officer, the other is dead…" The pilots sat in dismay. The war was going even worse planetside. David sat in silence. He listened to the sounds of war. The voices were men who were probably about to die. They very well could have been their last communications. He hoped to hear word of his brother, but fear was all he heard.
"...Lance Corporal Charles with the 25th tactical, reporting to anyone who can hear… Marines… regroup with us… coordinates… 45' north… repeat… 20' west… north… communications tower… come to us…" David immediately perked up at the sound of his brother's company. He jumped over two other pilots and scrambled to grab the transmitter. The other pilots looked on in confusion as he practically yelled into it.
"25th Tactical, this is Lt. David Pasley on board the Orion, do you copy, over?"
"...Roger that, Pasley… here… go ahead, over." The crackling reply came back. David's heart raced.
"25th Tactical, is my brother with you? Private Jonathan Pasley, is he with you, over?" He blurted. There was silence. A few crackling transmissions came through, but nothing from Charles or the 25th Tactical. "Lance Corporal Charles, do you read me, over?" It seemed like eternity, but only a few tense seconds went by.
"David?" The familiar voice of his brother came through. David exhaled. His grin stretched from ear to ear. The other pilots smiled and patted each other. At least the war was going well for the Pasley family.
"Roger that, big brother. That's Lt. Pasley to you." David joked. A static-laced laugh came back.
"...Holding a tower near… 12 and 11… How's the Orion? How is… -inter Moon? Over." JP asked. David looked over at another pilot, who was quickly looking up the status of the Winter Moon.
"Orion is fine, Winter Moon is damaged, but okay. They've got her absorbing fire from hitting smaller ships. What's this about a tower?"
"…Communications tower… we can see both cities… sniping grunts… fun… few days, unless we get pulled out sooner… got to run… we're broadcasting a safety beacon… marines come here… Be safe. Over." And with that, JP was gone. David set the transmitter down and sat next the other pilots. Nitoka walked up behind him and rested her hands on his shoulders. He looked up. She was smiling.
"I'm glad your brother is okay, Lieutenant." She said softly. He smiled back at her, but kept it reserved.
"Thank you, ma'am." David replied. A few beeps came over his personal communicator. It was an automated message from his ship's computer. It informed him that rearming, repairs, and refueling was complete. He was ready to fly again. Soon, so did Nitoka's and the other pilots. They began their brisk march back to their ships. As soon as they all were back in, the ships powered up and Nitoka came on the radio.
"Alright, pilots, listen up. The hard part is done. We've done the damage we needed to do, so now we move onto our second objectives. We have to keep the Pelicans and dropships safe as they evacuate civilians, then we have to escort them when they evacuate our Marines. Follow my lead. Are you ready?"
"Yes, ma'am!" The pilots confirmed. The Longswords powered up and released from their clamps. With Nitoka in the lead, the bay doors slid open and they blasted back into the void of space.
JP sat on the top deck of the tower on the balcony. He looked up at the stars and ships overhead. He could see the plasma fire, the MAC rounds, and even some of the archer missiles. It was awe-inspiring. He took great comfort in knowing for certain that his younger brother was safe and doing well. He took a bite of the small energy bar that served as his dinner. It contained a full day's supply of vitamins, minerals, and supplements. It also provided special regenerative property for sleeping that made you wake up feeling like a million bucks. It was also a tasty chocolate flavor.
Charles sat next to him, eating his bar. JP noted that it was peanut butter flavored, and then spoke up softly.
"Hey, Charles?"
"Yea?" Charles answered in between chews. Many marines joked that as well as providing all this health for them, it gave their jaws a work-out as well.
"Thanks for getting that long-range radio working. Talking to my brother meant a lot to me." Charles sat in silence for a moment, chewing. JP looked over and noticed the somber nod from his squad-mate. "What's the matter?"
"When I was still just a private, my brother was a Staff Sergeant. Brian was a great soldier. He saw action on Viridian 5, but that was the last we heard of him. The Covenant knew they couldn't take that planet and completely eradicated all life on it from orbit." Charles answered softly. JP was crushed. He had no idea that his friend had an older brother. "You're welcome, JP. Don't let anything happen to him. As soon as you both can, don't put in to enlist again. You served, you fought, and you did well. Just go home and take your well deserved rest."
"Are you serious?" JP blurted. He couldn't believe it. He knew that Charles was hurt, but he couldn't abandon his duty to humanity.
"Yea, why shouldn't you? I don't plan on re-enlisting." Charles answered, throwing his wrapper off the side of the balcony. JP did the same and faced him.
"Listen, I know you're upset about your brother, and I'm sorry for your loss, but I can't do that. I can't abandon my faith in humanity. Your brother died doing something great. Many men live their lives wondering if they made a difference. Marines don't have that problem." JP tried to explain. He borrowed a quote from an American leader of ages past for further effect.
"Save it, Pasley. You didn't know my brother." Charles sneered.
"And you don't know mine, but I know something you don't. I know that if you quit and just give up and dwell on it all your life, you're going to be miserable. You're going to disappoint and disrespect his memory. Do you think that's what he wants you to do? If I happen to die on the field, I know my brother won't give up, because the thought of wasting away doing nothing with his life would crush him and be like throwing away all of our memories together. Don't do it to Brian." JP continued. Charles stared at him, his face unmoved. Finally he blinked, sighed, and spoke.
"Do you really think so? Am I being selfish?" He wondered aloud.
"Yea, Charles, you are. You're not the only one to lose a family member in war. Think of the civilians today who lost family who weren't even fighting. I don't know about you, but I'm not going to sit back and let the Covenant find Earth and kill me as I sit around doing nothing. If they're going to find Earth, I'm going to give them a hell of a time of doing anything about it." JP proudly announced. Charles couldn't help but to smile.
"Maybe you're right, greenie. Maybe you're right. Thanks." Charles got up, patted JP on the shoulder, and entered the doorway into the tower. Pearce sat on the other side of the balcony, but heard every word.
"That was beautiful, darling." He joked.
"Oh, piss off." JP laughed.
Their grueling pace had been set back in City 12, but the 209th wasn't slowing. They'd traveled over 40 clicks in an hour. The warthog liberated from Jas' pelican had proved roomy enough for the few men. Its engines whirred rhythmically as they traversed the terrain. Jas fumbled with his small navigation unit, constantly checking their course. One of the twins, Greg, was driving. His brother was on the gun, the rest sat as small as they could in the bay behind him. He rode shotgun.
"Correct course 3 degrees east." Jas commented. Greg nodded and slightly turned the wheel. He turned back to the other men. Mike sat directly behind him next to Hor, who was behind Greg. They nodded in approval.
"Sir, we're only 5 clicks away." Greg announced. Jas checked his navigation unit and confirmed it.
"There was an LZ and base camp about 3 clicks away, but I'm pretty sure it got wiped out." Jas explained to him. Greg continued driving, aware that they would soon come across Covenant. They hadn't seen many leaving the city, but their signs were becoming more and more obvious out here in the wilderness. Jas once again turned to the men behind him.
"What's up?" Mike asked.
"We're going to have to go off-road to get to the tower. It's gonna get real bumpy. Hold tight." He replied. The two greenies in the back gripped the warthog tight as they began leaving the road they were traveling on. It remained relatively smooth, but they knew it would get worse.
"There's the camp, sir." Greg announced as they saw the wreckage of what was once the camp he dropped the 25th Tactical off at. Jas pointed to a small opening in the woods.
"Follow that another 1 and a half clicks. You'll see the tower at the end." He ordered. Greg nodded and continued driving. Jas reached down and grabbed the short-range radio the warthog contained. They entered the woods as Jas flipped the radio on and began filtering through the channels. Greg hit a bump, and they heard a shout. Looking back, one of the privates had fallen out the back.
"Brakes!" Mike shouted as he dove out to get the man, who was lying in the dirt, not moving. Greg quickly stopped the warthog and looked back. The man was unconscious, but alive. Jas hopped out to assist Mike, who was lifting the man's upper body. Jas grabbed his legs and hoisted him into the back of the warthog. Mike pointed an angry finger at the other greenhorn as Jas dropped the man's rifle in with him.
"Your new responsibility is to ensure that this man not only survives, but is revived when we get to the tower. Do you get me?" The Master Sergeant ordered. The private quickly nodded.
"Yes, sir!" He chirped in fear. Jas shook his head and walked back to his seat. Mike couldn't help but to agree with him. As he was about to hop back in, he heard a shout. He turned just in time to see three covenant grunts firing their plasma pistols towards the warthog. They all immediately took a combat position and fired on the enemy. As soon as their foes were dispatched, Hor pointed out a plasma burn on the side of the warthog, near where the unconscious greenhorn sat.
"Son of a… Well, should we investigate further enemy activity?" Mike asked Jas.
"LOOK OUT!" Andrew shouted, his chaingun turret spinning behind them. It took quick aim and began unleashing hell on the Covenant Elite that hid behind a tree, hoping to surprise the "victorious" humans. The monster quickly fell dead in a pool of blood.
"Christ, Hodgdon. You married?" Jas asked, still grasping the situation.
"No, sir…" He replied, confused.
"Well then you obviously shoot better than you screw, 'cause if you were as good girls would be all over you." He laughed. It took Andrew a minute to get the joke while the other men laughed hard. Finally he grasped it and smiled weakly, knowing he'd just been ripped on.
"It's all in good fun, Andrew. It's the Lieutenant's way of showing you his pride in your talents." Mike explained. Andrew nodded and returned to his normal self. They hopped back in the warthog, and Jas grabbed the short-range radio as Greg punched the accelerator.
"25th Tactical, do you copy, over?" Nothing. Jas tried again. "Repeat, 25th Tactical, do you copy, over?" Finally, a weak reply came through.
"Copy that, this is Lance Corporal Charles with the 25th Tactical, over." He sounded tired or faded away, but the men were relieved at a reply.
"Charles, this is Lt. Scalia. I dropped you off in the Pelican this morning, over."
"Copy that, good to hear from you, sir. Over." The voice seemed more energized now.
"We're looking to hole up for the night in that pretty tower I helped you with, over." Jas got straight to the point. The voice came back very faintly, as if her were speaking to someone in the background.
"Roger that, sir. I'm having the men unblock the doors and prepare for your arrival. Request numbers, over."
"Seven and a warthog." Jas answered simply. A few more muffled sounds in the background came through before he heard Charles again.
"Roger, the doors are clear. Unfortunately there's no way to get that 'hog in here, but if you leave it outside the main doors, it should help us barricade it, over." Charles explained.
"Understood, soldier. We're entering the clearing now, over." With that, Jas hung up the transmitter. With a final acknowledgement, the transmission ended. Jas turned to Mike.
"Told ya." He said simply. Mike grinned.
"I like the idea of being wrong, sometimes. Sometimes." He laughed back. They entered the clearing, hopping over a small foxhole. Greg smashed the gas and the warthog screamed towards the tower. It was closing in rapidly; they'd be there in a matter of seconds.
"Private! Revive that man!" Mike ordered. The greenhorn waved a smelling salt in front of the man's nose, quickly bringing him to. Greg slid the warthog sideways in front of the doors, which swung open. Two men stood there welcoming them. Private Pasley and Lance Corporal Thompson stood in the doorway, smiling big. Jas hopped out and warmly shook the hand of JP.
"Good to see you're okay, private." Jas greeted. JP grinned big.
"I'm glad you're okay. We heard you got shot down and I feared the worst." JP replied.
"I see," Jas mused. "I wouldn't be okay had these here Marines not helped out, right Master Sergeant Protich?" Mike hopped out of the back of the warthog and greeted both of the men.
"Just doing our jobs, sir."