New Mombasa
Tayari Plaza District
October 20th, 2552
1520 hours, local clock
Oh, god ! A Major
Melted Artic ice was flooding through Veronica Dare's veins.
There was a Jiralhane Major, standing directly outside her SOIEV now.
The Engineer- the Huragok that had been the picture of curiosity and inquisitiveness- had been immediately been chased out view- or more accurately, the Jiralhane had reached out with an arm as wide around as a watermelon, seized the Huragok ( nearly crushing it, much to Dare's profound alarm ) , and all but tossed the fragile creature away.
Dare's pulse had shot up, and she all but yelled out a " No ! ". Engineers were not durable creatures.
With a long and drawn out screeeeeeee of fright, The Engineer had vanished. Leaving the ONI operative alone with the 8ft tall, 400+ pound space gorilla, who's kind was known to be anything but hospitable.
Through the feebly standing glass window of the pod's front hatch, Dare could do nothing but stare at the giant alien officer. One paw, wide as a baseball mitt, was tightly grasping a Spiker. The other, was balled into a fist that could've passed for a medieval mace's head.
Hands that could wrap around one of Dare's, ( or her neck, which was more likely ), and then crush it into nothing but a mass of dripping, bloody pulp and splintered bone, as easily as someone crumpling up a tissue. The raw psychical strength of the Brutes, the Jiralhane, was not exaggerated- Dare had actually seen that kind of damage getting done in person to an unfortunate squad of metropolitan police, during an Op on Sargasso several years ago.
If she had not been ONI, she'd have been much closer to the action then. Of course ( and needless to say ), it was also because she was ONI that she'd ended up where she was right here and now.
Calling an audible hadn't ever turned out this badly.
Facing down a Jiralhane, at CQC range !
This guy's a freaking titan. And he's close enough to hit with spit.
Epitome of bad news
One of Dare's hands, her right, had dropped to the pebbled grip of her holstered sidearm, an M6/SOCOM, by pure reflex. Despite the highly familiar touch of the weapon against her fingers though, along with the knowledge that it was stacked and loaded with a dozen 12.7mm AP bullets, there was nothing that could stop the rising tide of the " flight or fight " response within the ONI operative.
Every aspect of it became crystal clear to her in the heat of a moment like this. It wasn't outright fear; it was a cross between that and understanding that the beast standing outside was as deadly an opponent as they ever came.
Dare's pulse had ratcheted up by several degrees. Her heartbeat was booming in her ears, with an overlapping and constant bmp, bmp, bmp rhythm. Lightning shot up and down the length of her spine, with a distracting tingling sensation, as a subtle but detectable tremor manifested itself in her limbs.
" Hhhhhhf. Grrrra ! "
Out of nowhere, the Jiralhane growled, baring a mouthful of teeth. Dare did not fail to notice how they were perfectly designed to shred flesh, like the ones a Siberian Tiger, or a Great White Shark would have. They were as long as your finger, and a dulled shade of white from getting stained from much chewing on raw flesh.
Mostly that of their enemies.
Teeth of a predator. An animal
A mitt-paw abruptly lashed out, and grabbed the edge of the hatch.
Crmp. Crrrmmppp !
Already mangled metal began to groan and creak in agonized protest, as the tremendously strong alien began to rend the hatch loose. SOIEV hatches were notoriously tough, built from the ground up and inside out to resist the vicious thermal rigors of plummeting through a planet's atmosphere- but Jiralhane were strong to a fault.
It couldn't be long, before-
" F***! ". Dare rarely used such vulgar language, but it slipped out for this. A Jiralhane was attempting to get into her SOIEV !
Her armored back hit the rear of the hatch's compartment as she lunged backwards, reminding her the hard way that there was nowhere to go.
" Rarrr...hfff. Grrrra! "
The muzzle of the M6 SOCOM came up, as Dare yanked it clear and brought the weapon to bear. A shot from it, or a quick volley of shots, right into an unarmored and weakly protected spot on even the heaviest enemy , could bring it down.
It was all Dare had to hold onto, as the hatch continued to give way more and more. She was utterly cornered. There was absolutely nowhere to run.
And I have a Jiralhane boss about to tear my SOIEV wide open, with me still in it. Dare flicked the safety off on the M6, and bit her lower lip, clamping down on her suddenly-rapid breathing.
Buck. Dear lord, you'd better be right around the corner.
" Heads up! Friendlies on your six !"
The young Colombian ( presumably, given her wood-colored skin ) woman Buck was currently yelling at was very pretty- even while she was fully decked out in a set MARPAT-camo fatigues, and M52B body armor which left only her face visible. A few loose strands of brunette hair poked haphazardly out from beneath the edge of her helmet, stopping right above a pair of eyes that match the stands' color.
Eyes that were wide open; whether with shock or surprise, Buck couldn't tell. Likely, it was both.
He was only a yard or so away from her by now, skidding into cover nearby her along with the retinue ( Deckard and Dubbo ) that he'd rounded up so far. Bolts of white hot fire- suppressive shots from Jackal snipers stationed both across the courtyard and on the pedestrian bridge that spanned it- stabbed like horizontal lightning through the air, in a brilliantly vibrant display of cyan and purple ribbons of death.
" ODST here ! ". Buck slapped the marine's shoulder pauldron, as he sharply beckoned Deckard and Dubbo to keep their own heads down. "Gunnery Sergeant Buck ! Jackals don't mess around, do they ? ! "
The young woman's expression was a curious mix of overloaded adrenaline, and mild shock at having an ODST noncom seemingly materelize at her 20. That latter one was useful to Buck; he could use that and put it to good use. On a side note, he noted her uniform name tab read " Valquez ", and that she held the rank of Staff Sergeant.
Maybe that explains why she's not completely disoritented.
"Yeah. They skipped that lesson in basic, Gunny. ", she responded, only slightly breathless, looking back down at the MA5 she was gripping in both gloved hands. " I learned as I've gone along. "
" Damn Beaks ! ", yelled Dubbo, interupting.
The " beaks " were not alone, though, needless to say. A full strength squad of Jiralhane was in the center of the square, and they had plenty of firepower at their disposal.
Aside from their ubiquitous Spikers, this lot was armed with Plasma Rifles too. The heavily built, crimson-colored weapons were shaped roughly like that of a squat capital letter I, with the muzzle consisting of the space between the two ends of the I's halves. Bolts of plasma shot out from between them, whipping downrange with a searing noisy, overalpping chj, chj, chj electronic whining.
With a few blinks, Buck deactivated his VISR. There was more than enough light here- between the sun at high noon, and the last lingering effects of the blazing blue glow of the supercarrier's atmospheric FTL jump.
It was matched, though, by the ratcheting ( and comforting ) clatter of MA5 and BR55 assault/battle rifles. Scattered in pockets across the western side of the city square, Marine and Army fireteams were hip deep in engaging the Covenant. Buck didn't have a visual on all of them, but he could see the reddened muzzle flashes from behind and over the top of parked vehicles, from behind concrete traffic dividers and walkway parapets , and even from the " cover " of rubbish bins and trash cans that were billowing with detritus.
A full scale firefight; the air was choked with incoming and outbound fire. And, discouragingly, there was more of the former than the latter. Nobody could mistake the sound of plasma bolts flying, and Buck could hear a lot of that. He'd had a solid decade's worth of experience listening to that sound.
He raised his voice to a near shout. " Give me a sitrep ! Do you have long range comms ?!"
To his right and left, the sounds of an MA5 going off, as well as a Needler opening up, boomed out as Deckard and Dubbo engaged the Covenant, with Dubbo supplying a stream of Ozzie profanity that was as steady as the stream of bullets coming out the muzzle of his weapon.
" About a dozen of us- Weapons Platoon, Hatchet Company, ! ", Valquez responded. " Comms are down; Covies brought a full platoon of their own ! Half of 'em Brutes ! "
Buck edged his head and upper torso around the corner of the parapet he and the 3 others had hunkered behind, his MA5 out in front. Immediately, he found a gaggle of Unggoy waddling hurriedly along, with a Jiralhane herding them along. A flurry of plasma bolts and spikes was spewing from the muzzles of their weapons, walking them over the side of a city bus that was evidently home to UNSC fireteam- if the MARPAT colored shadows moving around through the windows and bright orange muzzle flashes were anything to go by.
There was plenty of cover spots for them, at least. The square was a sprawling, wide open environment; streets dissected it 4 different ways. Meeting in the center, they formed into a roundabout with a broadly round, fenced off grass patch in the center of it. It was wide enough to give anyone seated ( or reclined ) on its several smoothly contoured park benches some cover from the noise of the traffic that would've been flowing through the area like water on a normal day.
On all sides of the sqaure, the sidewalks that ran along the frontage of the the buildings were lined with parapets and railings, which were managing to block some of the incoming alien plasma. The scalding bolts instantly vaporied and charred anything they touched- concrete, metal, wood
Needless to say, there was none of that going on today. What civvies that had called New Mombassa home had hightailed it out of town hours ago- if they hadn't been gunned down by the Covenant armies. The only occupants of square at the moment were UNSC infantry, all armed to the teeth, and slugging it out.
He opened on them at once, and the last quarter of his magazine tore open the head of one of the Grunts, as well as the chest of another. Cyan liquid painted the pavement.
As the stumpy aliens wailed and flailed, and the Jiralhane bellowed with rage, bringing the Spiker to bear, Buck withdrew in cover again, as Deckard did the same to reload his needler.
" Yeah, got it ! We're hip deep here. "
" Alright, listen up ! I need to punch through these bastards to reach Tayari Plaza ! ". Buck made a knife hand in the direction of the aforementioned plaza, empathizing his goal. " Unless you got standing orders that say otherwise, you're coming with me ! "
" The 15th was told to RV at the ONI Alpha Site- "
A long, roaring blast from the MA5, followed by a matching roaring blast of cussing signaled that Dubbo was out of ammo. He dropped back behind the parapet, fishing another magazine out of his chest rig.
"-but we'll back you up long enough to reach Tayari ! ", Valquez finished. " After that, though, we'll have to go our own way ! "
" Good enough ! ", Buck nodded. " Hook me into your comm net. "
" Let's get this show on the road ! "
Dare hadn't known what the phrase " tossed like a rag doll " could really mean, until now.
She'd played with dolls as a child , of course, like any normal girl. Growing up on Actium ( in the tranquil days before the Covenant arrived to turn the entire surface of the world to glass and slag ), the future ONI officer had enjoyed many hours of marching her toys around and about the Persian rugs of her apartment's living room.
Mostly, Dare was gentle and caring with them. All doll owners wanted to be that way with their toys, and Dare was generally that way with hers too. Playing roughly with them, like throwing them around, or intentionally stepping on them, were not the kind of things she ever remembered doing to them.
And they weren't even made of rags, either.
But, she was getting tossed like one now. Dare had been hefted clear into the air, hard and fast enough to give her that butterfly sensation. She was only flying for a few seconds, but it was enough to get her pretty high up.
High enough so that she knew it was going to hurt coming down.
" Uffff ! Agh- ! "
Air was roughly exploded from her lungs as Dare crashed back to earth, having been sent flying by the Jiralhane's industrial-level strength, which had torn her from the SOIEV, and then flung her clear. If it wasn't for her armor, it'd have hurt a lot more.
Presumably.
It still did leave a mark, though, if the bolt of pain that shot through Dare upon landing wasn't anything to go by. Pavement wasn't soft, needless to say.
" Geez, -! ", she hissed.
" Grrrrrhhhhhhh. "
Like a starving grizzly bear, the Jiralhane loomed over her, as the blonde lay sprawled on her back. The towering alien's mouth was morphed into a grimace that bared its teeth.
Equally as sharp, were the blades of the Spiker rifle the alien held. They were crusted with what had to be blood- and not of other aliens. Everything was ringing in Dare's ears, and soreness was all over her back, but she could easily focus on those Spiker blades.
They were like steak knives. There wasn't a hint of doubt on how much damage they could do.
Come on. This is it for me ? This guy ?!
Dare didn't live to her name to move, not even a twitch. Pain or not, the icewater filling her blood, or her escalating pulse- all the effects of the height of the " flight or fight " response, was even stronger than that.
She was on her back, at the mercy of this alien who could crack her in two like a twig.
chk ! chk !
" Damn ! "
Mentally cussing out how the MA5C had half the capacity of the B version, Buck pulled himself behind the parapet again, as his hands automatically went about the process of reloading.
" Sarge ?! Sergenat Buck ?! "
Dubbo was yelling to him, over the sound of a frag grenade exploding somewhere downrange.
Turning his head toward where the Australian had called from, Buck found him crouched next to the base of a nearby streetlight. Wisps of ash grey smoke were curling up from the muzzle of Dubbo's MA5, as the barrel struggled to vent off copious amounts of waste heat.
" She's tapped out ! ". Dubbo indicated his smoldering weapon. " You got any spare clips ?! "
Damn, again. I've been getting low myself-
Brushing aside his own concerns on how few bullets he had left, Buck reached into an already depleted chest rig ammo-pouch, pulled a mag free, and tossed it to the Aussie. It wouldn't do much for himself, but that didn't matter. Dubbo didn't have much left himself, so Buck would help him out.
" Catch ! ", he called.
Dubbo did, and fed the clip into the MA5, as the rumbling, gravelly whump of some heavy explosives detonating echoed from somewhere out in the square.
It wasn't the wshhh, bang of plasma charges, so it had to have been a Jackhammer rocket. Buck pressed himself flat to the ground, gripped his own MA5 in one hand, and edged out past the parapet enough to take a look for himself.
A slowly dissipating cloud of smoke, with a chalky white trail of propellant snaking out behind it, marked the impact point of what was indeed a Jackhammer rocket. Buck spotted the bulky bodies of several Jiralhane lying sprawled about nearby, with their eggplant-colored blood splashed and spattered around them in haphazard patterns, with more of it rapidly forming pools around the dead aliens, lying like bricks on the scorched and charred pavement.
It was a thoroughly violent display. Buck wished he had a Jackhammer too.
Good freaking shooting, whoever that was.
" Chieftain ! Chieftain, he's got a hammer ! Right flank ! ", shouted Valquez, over the sound of her own BR55 discharging its volleys.
Buck cocked his MA5, as he distinctly heard Deckard swear profusely, catching the last few choice cusswords. The ODST noncom sighted down the length of the rifle as he looked downrange again.
Instead of the called out Chieftain, though,he instead got a LOS on a Unggoy'd domed head protruding from up and over a parked car's bullet-pocked hood.
The stumpy alien was in the process of taking a cautious step forward, when a quick burst of 7.62mm bullets from Buck chewed through said head, and dropped the Grunt hard to the street. The hood of the car received a fresh coat of paint.
Gotcha, punk. The MA5's ammo counter clicked down a few rounds, but it wasn't too low. Yet.
Ok. Where the heck is that Chieftain-
" Look out ! Chieftain's charging ! "
There he was; 8 ft tall, and several hundred pounds worth of furry, golden-metal plated alien came barreling toward them.
The Chieftain was anything but a low level threat. The Gravity Hammer it held in its paws, swung by massive arms that were nothing but corded muscle on top of corded muscle, had a head the size of an office wastebasket-and one half of that head was a gleaming blade.
Its legs, no less well muscled than its arms, were propelling it forward at a pace that that closing the distance to Buck's postion not at all slowly. Each step produced a sound that resembled that of a angry rhino running at full speed.
" Sarge ! He's getting close ! ", Deckard's Needler spat out a flurry of glimmering pink shards, attempting to track the thundering behemoth.
From off on the left flank, more gunfire- MA5s, a few BR55s, and even some M6s- blasted the Chieftain from more scattered teams of shooters. The personal shields of the mammoth alien were built of stern stuff, and while they promptly flashed the color of burned gold, they didn't collapse.
Buck had already adjusted his aim, holding his trigger down and watching the ammo counter wind down steadily. The chattering racket beat at his ears, as the rifle's magazine was spent more and more.
" Frag out ! ", yelled the other sergeant to Buck's left.
" Graaaaaaagh ! "
The Chieftain's predatory roar was only matched in volume by the subsuquent detonation of a frag grenade, lofted by Valquez.
Bwoom !
Grenades didn't have the punch of Jackhammer rockets, not by a country mile, and against a target as hefty as a Jiralhane Chieftain, that was even less so. Still, it was enough to stagger the giant, and put the storming monster off balance.
Albeit, only a tad.
" Son. Of. A bitch ! What're they MADE out of ?! "
' chk. chk, chk '
Buck's weapon ran dry as he expressed his anger. He could only watch as the blue numbers of the holographic counter ran down to 00.
Damn, damn !
The interior of Buck's mouth suddenly seemed very dry. He coughed by reflex, wetting his lips. Subtle vibrations, leftover from the constant discharge of his MA5, still rippled through his forearms.
The roar of the fight raging in front of him didn't slack off. It was sliding in the favor of the UNSC, though: there was less plasma in the air than bullets, and Buck could see that more of the aliens were horizontal- and soaked with their own blood- than vertical.
A few Grunts scampered drunkenly ( drunk on whatever meth-like drugs they were supplied through their breathing masks as much they were drunk on fear ) toward the rest of the UNSC infrantry. The cracking report of M6 handguns sounded, and most of the Grunts died as they ran.
The Chieftain was still oncoming, though. And only about 20ft away.
The towering xeno, still in the overlapping center of multiple streams of bullets of multiple calibers, swung that giant hammer. Like a MLB player at the World Series, the Chieftain swung from the shoulders, and knocked something into the air-the wheel-less remains of a M274 Mongoose. As if if weighed as much as a pillow.
Shit !
The hunk of mangled metal sailed out toward a group of jarheads who'd placed themselves behind a sedan. Amid plenty of cussing, they dived in as close as they could to the side of the car, right as the smashed ATV landed on it with a screeching crump of wrenching metal.
" Out of frags ! Someone get me one on that bastard ! ". A clearly frustrated Valquez shot at the Chieftain again, switching her BR55 to full auto mode, and directing a stream of 5.45mm rounds at the Jiralhane's neck and head.
Overhearing her, Buck instinctively reached for a grenade, but when his aching fingers touched where one of them usually hung, it was met by empty air.
Rolling over, putting himself on one side, he looked down at himself, patting down his web gear and pouches. There were no grenades left on himself.
He murmured an expletive. How could I have run out ? What is this ?!
" HIS SHIELD'S DOWN ! ITS DOWN ! "
It couldn't be.
" Grrrrrrrraaara ! "
" The hell- ?! ". Buck rolled out of cover agaain-
- and saw the Chieftain, staggering, still holding the hammer, but also reeling. Blue lighting was arcing and dancing over the titanic creature, with puffs of cyan smoke.
The shield was down.
There was nothing to protect the Jiralhane now. Yells rose from the UNSC infrantry, and more volleys of gunfire erupted, even heavier than before. Buck saw geysers of blood erupting from the alien's skin, as bullets found their mark through gaps torn in the armor from when the collapsing shield explosion had rent it open.
Dropping his tapped-out MA5, he drew his M6, and racked the slide, as several Needles from Deckard's weapon shot out, and embedded themselves into the Jiralhane's arm.
The giant alien roared like a wounded bull-a bellowing "WAGGH ! " that made the hair on the back of Buck's neck rise. He ignored it, as he leveled his M6 at the Jiralhane's jawline, and pulled the trigger.
Shk! Shk ! Shk ! The M6's integrated suppressor muffled the shots, but the effects they had were immediate and clear; a fragment of the Jiralhane's helmet had been shot clean off, bringing with it ample amounts of fresh blood to splash onto and soak the alien's chest plates.
Buck didn't miss a beat.
He shot the wound, double tapping.
" You did good, Gunny. Thanks for the assist. "
With her BR55 cradled in one arm, Valquez put out a hand, fingers curled into a fist.
Buck looked at it for a second. Then, forming his own hand into a fist, he bumped it against hers.
" Likewise. But it was a group win. "
" Don't worry- I know. Plasma don't care if you're black or white; it'll burn you the same. "
Frickin' straight
The other sergeant turned to look at some of the wounded, and Buck followed her gaze.
Several Marines, uniforms smothered and spattered with dust and grime of indeterminate origins that left them looking like they'd been rolling around in a sandbox, were sitting with their backs up against one of the traffic dividing walls. They were receiving attention from several Navy corpsmen who were busily and quietly applying jets of biofoam and wrapping field dressings to plasma scorched tissue. A low murmuring chorus of pained grunts, punctuated by hisses and bursts of profanity, emanated from the battered crowd. Nobody was screaming, though.
Plasma burns were like that, unless they simply killed you outright.
Buck's own skin and armor was untouched by the enemy's plasma. That burned in its own way; he thought it was only right that a sergeant take some burns too, if their men did. Not that they should place themselves in front of a Fuel Rod Cannon for the sake of it, but getting wounded if they'd been- getting the red badge-
Well, there was always another battle. Against the Covenant, there was always another one. Plenty of chances to get shot in the future.
" Yeah. I know. ". Buck wanted to remove his helmet, and take a few breaths of air that hadn't been run through its scrubbers, but they were still in a combat zone. It wouldn't be a wise move, even for an ODST.
Besides, he'd gotten used to viewing the world through a layer of glass. ODSTs liked living behind their visors.
Buck spared a glance at Valquez's face. Immediately, he got a sense he'd betrayed Dare, because Valquez was indeed very pretty. The woman had classic features- model's cheekbones, and almond shaped eyes. Even with all the detritus smeared across her nose and cheeks, something about that face reminded Buck of Dare.
And he didn't want to notice any other woman but Dare.
Damn it ! She's still counting on me !
Shaking his head, Buck then addressed the other noncom. " Staff- I'm taking my men on to Tayari. We have an RV to keep. "
" Deckard ! Dubbo ! "
Calling the names of the Marines he'd been shepherding, Buck turned around-
- and found them both closer than he'd thought. The two men were standing a few yards away; Deckard's sleeve was rolled up, and Dubbo was applying a dose of biofoam to the bare forearm beneath.
What the heck ? He's been hiding that burn ?!
Hearing him yelling their names, they looked up.
" Get over here, Marines ! ", Valquez ordered, beckoning.
After a half second's pause, Dubbo quickly added another microdose of foam to what was clearly some degree of plasma burning on Deckard's arm, before the other Marine rolled his sleeve back down. His Needler was still with him- he'd been able to salvage additional ammo for it from several dead Grunts -, and taking it in his other hand, he began to jog toward the sergeants.
Dubbo went with him, and in seconds, they'd arrived.
" Reporting as ordered. ", Dubbo announced.
" Deckard ! ". Buck barely let the Aussie finish. " When did that happen ?! "
The telltale clenching of muscle in Deckard's jaw was a giveaway to the fact that he was putting up with pain, but he didn't look like it was weighing him down. " Can't say for sure, Gunny. But, I can still shoot straight. Other guys need B-foam more than me, anyway. "
Buck raised a brow. " Is Dubbo here a Corpsman, then ? "
The Aussie indicated the aid post behind them. " I dragged his arse to see one. Told us to apply some foam regularly to keep him in fighting trim, at least for now. "
" Its not a full fix, but it'll do. "
I'll get you a full fix first chance we get, kid.
Buck had every intention of making good on that promise. But, right now, they had to press on, and they had to hurry.
" Tayari Plaza is directly through those gates, Gunny ". With a rustle of uniform fabric, Valquez raised her arm, and pointed toward one of the sets of traffic portals. " Check your VISR map; it'll line right up. "
" Roger that. Thanks, Staff. ", Buck nodded. He'd already done so, but she was being helpful. That was always nice.
" Hey. Godspeed to you and your boys. ", he added.
Despite the battering the unit had taken, Buck had seen that there was more than a few of them around. The ones who could still stand were still organized into fireteams, positioned around the square behind crumpled cars and half-slagged parapets. They looked ready, and they were facing out, with their weapons readied, toward where hostile contact was likely to come from.
They were still able to carry on. If Buck couldn't stayed with them, he would've. Fighting with them to get clear of this city was a more worthy mission than whatever the heck kind of madness mission ONI had sent Dare- and by extension, him- on.
Not my place to call the shots, though. Besides, I wanted to be an ODST.
" That'll come in handy ". Valquez agreed. " We're going on our way, no matter what gets in it. "
The corner of her mouth twitched up in a cautious smile. " Godspeed to you too. "
She took her leave of the ODST then, giving a final nod before turning away to rejoin her unit. Buck watched her leave, wishing at least for a moment that Dare had been any kind of officer but an ONI one.
Put me in the trenches. That's where jarheads belong. Not running errands for spooks.
Son of a bitch. Might as well get back to it.
Exhaling, he turned to speake to Deckard again.
" You sure you're ok ? We're moving out now. "
The Needler-armed Marine lifted his weapon, and nodded firmly. " Good to go, Gunny. "
" Let's get 'em. "
The burning blue glow in the sky was completely gone now.
Overhead, scanning the sky left, right, and in every direction, Buck saw only the shade of blue the sky should normally be. The haze of electric, white-peppered blue fog that'd been hanging in the air over the tops of the highest buildings in town ever after that Covie supercarrier had jumped out, was finally gone.
It was gone. Now there was only sunlight left. And the puffs of random clouds.
Must've been slogging though his even longer than I thought. Not even bothering to check the HUD clock for that.
He kept marching.
Crmp, crmp, crmp.
The undersoles of his boots clacked against the smooth surface of the road, keeping a steady rhythm.
Behind him, he could hear a matching crmp, crmp, crmp, as Deckard and Dubbo marched along too.
They'd all been walking for about 10 minutes now, following sidewalk of the road that led out of that square. It'd been a quiet trek- aside from the sound of their boots, there wasn't a hint of activity around them. Nothing new that they'd not seen before- only more of the same.
Burned cars and trucks, plasma-holed cars and trucks. All of them abandoned, scattered on the road helter skelter, some of them with fires still crackling and snapping.
Overall, though, the stillness was uncomfortable. Like there was an ambush following them, waiting for the right moment to launch itself onto them. Buck had been checking his corners nonstop as they'd been walking, and he'd seen the others do the same, weapons up and scanning. They were all on the alert.
But, nothing and nobody was showing themselves. Yet.
" Think they all ran away. ", Dubbo finally had something to say.
" You asking, or telling ? ", Deckard replied.
" Both, I guess. ", the Aussie admitted. " They're not in this grid. We are. That's about all I've got. "
" Don't over or under-think it "
Buck supplied his own wisdom. " Keep your guard up. If they're here, we'll deal with them. If they're not, we'll have less trouble. Either way, we stay off the middle of the streets, and we go forward. "
His thumb brushed the selector switch of his MA5 as he spoke. Buck had secured more ammo for it back at the square, and it was comforting to see the ammo counter on the rifle glowing a healthy " 32 " again. If they ran into more Covies, he had a full clip for them.
And yet, the xeno weren't anywhere to be seen.
" Got it, Gunny ", Dubbo acknowledged.
" You, uh, sound like you're one of those ' Been around the block ' kinds. ", he added a few seconds later. " Voice of experience. "
That was an understatement, but the kid wasn't wrong. Buck was certainly no Rookie.
15 years. I've been in longer than a solid decade.
Not sure what counts as " the block ", but whatever it is, I've gone around it more than a few times, that's for damn sure.
" You're right on that. ", he affirmed.
" Yeah. I hadn't even been deployed off Earth before the Covies landed. Signed up in the Corps about 3 years ago. ", Deckard revealed. " Haven't met an ODST who'd been out there and then come back before, either. Now I've got- "
He gestured at Buck.
"-both. You've been both, I mean. "
You really are a greenhorn, Deckard. But, you're sharp one anyway.
" Not an Earthborn, Marine. I hail from Draco III. ", Buck informed him. " Doesn't matter, though: Earth's the mother planet to us all. We're going to do what it takes to keep her safe. That's worth fighting for. "
And let nobody say different. Because I couldn't save my own world.
" Yeah. I don't like the idea of rolling over for them ", Dubbo declared. " Covies don't seem like the " accepting surrender " kind. "
" They're not ", Buck told him. " Take it from me. "
He knew they'd listen.
As they'd been walking, none of them had taken their attention off their surroundings. The road bent slightly to the right, and as they rounded the bend, their surroundings ballooned outwards. The relatively narrow street suddenly changed, from multistory buildings forming a canyon of metal and concrete on either side, to a wide and sweeping gorge of metal and concrete instead.
The road now bent to the left, but off to its right, was an expansive area that was dominated by a deep-punched gorge lined with descending steps and sharply cut drops. Some of said drops were decorated with grassy strips, speckled with flowers. Gleaming metal railings protected the steps as they led down into the depths of the sunken section of the lowground, while behind the edges of it, high rise buildings with sparking fronts of glass ( where plasma hadn't pulverized them into smoking gaps ) soared to where the layer of blue haze had been.
They had arrived. They had reached Tayari Plaza.
Buck had immediately double checked VISR's map reading, and it synced up.
This is the place ! This is it !
God, she's here.
As adrenaline began to rush into his veins, Buck did his best to control it. He couldn't afford to rush in and screw things up with this rescue at the last moment. He hadn't survived this long to fail now.
Holding up a fist, he halted the group, then dropped to a knee.
" You getting something ? ", Deckard asked him tersely.
" We're here. ", Buck brought his MA5 to his shoulder, as he watched and waited for a few more moments.
Nothing. Ok, ok-
" Our ONI contact is down there ". He gestured toward the low ground ahead.
" On me, boys. We're nearly there ok ? "
He turned his head to look at them. There was a palpable note of optimism in their expressions. Buck had told them that this ONI officer, whoever she was, could work all kinds of strings. Buck could keep them alive; someone with ONI pull could get them reunited with their unit.
They'd follow him, but they were cut off. And that could be about to change.
" Lead the way, Gunny ! ". Dubbo held his MA5 ,he and Deckard ready to spring forward.
Buck did exactly that. Standing, he paced forward quickly, and the other two followed.
Finally. They'd made it.
With the other two in tow, Buck led them forward. They crossed the street, boots clacking, made it to the other side.
They reached the railing that overlooked the sunken ground, and looked down into it.
Sitting at the bottom, amid its very own impact crater, was a lone SOIEV.
Torn wide open, like a pinata.
And there was no mistaking what the liquid spattered on the ground in front of it was.
Red. Blood.
They were too late.