XI

Jacen watched the last sliver of sunlight melt into the horizon, drawing a curtain of darkness over the surface like some sort of final act. It was in that moment that he visualized the sky coming alive with a brilliant array of stars and the massive guardian Saturn overlooking Titan as its underling; but no such fantasy came to be. In reality, it was only an everlasting, impenetrable overcast where not a single star was visible. It seemed fitting, considering everything.

Across the camp he could see the dim lights wink on across the structures that the generators struggled to keep lit. A long night was a severe understatement, and most of the refugees couldn't tolerate the night cycle. Maybe it was the underline fear and anxiety of being in the dark on a foreign world. Four years, in Jacen's mind, was long enough to adjust; but maybe it just seemed harder for some people. It was unnatural, for sure: over 340+ hours of darkness without a shred of sunlight. Coupled with the Covenant threat always looming overhead, the dark was just something else for them to be afraid of.

Soft footfalls sounded behind him. He disengaged and turned to see Naomi walking up to him, adjusting her gear with several weapons slung across her back. She went up to one of the crates and unslung the pair of MA37 rifles to set them down with an exhale.

"We're about to roll," she reported. "Rey wants us to meet for some last minute details."

Jacen stepped over and picked up the assault rifle with mild displeasure.

"Aaron's our best marksmen. He copped the DMR. Don't know why; we don't have much ammo left for it."

"Aaron is resourceful, and also our best shot." Jacen rifled through the sling pack Naomi brought in with her, pulling out four of the eight total magazines inside. He inserted one in the rifle's empty slot until it clicked, hit the safety, and slung it across his back. "He'll make it work."

Naomi didn't seem convinced. She figured Aaron just wanted the best weapon. It had the highest impact, greater range. While they fought with Grunts in their faces, he'd sit back and take shots from relative safety. Classic Aaron, the sneak. Whatever. As long as he did his job, held down his assignment, then maybe they'd make it out alive. She brought out a plasma pistol from inside her pack and set it on the crate in front of Jacen.

"Fully charged. We have enough for everyone to have at least one and an additional battery, but that's it. Pick your targets wisely, I guess."

Jacen took the pistol with caution, following Naomi's movements with his eyes. She stowed away her own gear at a leisurely pace, the right corner of her mouth gently tugging like she'd tasted something sour.

"What?" he asked.

He'd said it so gingerly that Naomi barely heard him. She raised her eyes up at him, holding contact for a few seconds before looking away to shift the gear around in her pack. "It's nothing."

Jacen rolled his eyes. He set his hand atop her pack and moved it to the side so she couldn't reach it. "It's never nothing with you. Talk. We may not get the chance later."

She winced. "That's what I'm worried about. I don't know what's going to happen tonight. We can't lose anymore people."

"I know," replied Jacen, removing a band of hair from her face and pinning it behind her ear. "Since the start, we've survived everything humans and aliens have tossed at us. I'm not saying we're invulnerable. We'll die one day, but on our terms." He put his hand on her shoulder, craning low his head to look her in the eye. "But not here. One fight at a time, hobbit. One fight at a time."

One fight at a time. The words were practically scripture in Naomi's head, read and applied so much that they became second nature. But somehow, she still remained stalled between the hemispheres of fear and doubt and—oddly enough—solace. The peace, though, was fleeting without foundation. She didn't know whether their actions tonight would accomplish that. She only knew that it was just more fight with an uncertain outcome. Did Jacen feel the same way? She wouldn't ask him. He'd just deflect, say everything was okay and that they'd make it through somehow. The man was impossible sometimes, mentally impregnable almost. You never knew what he was thinking until he opened his mouth. She hated feeling this way—unbalanced. Nevertheless, she'd have to swallow it down and "crecer un pene" as her abuelo would say.

With that, she stowed her own weapons and flipped the pack over her right shoulder. "We should go."

Rey went over everything they had with an expression that could only be described as a longing despair. He forced himself to reconcile with what little they had, and that even capturing an Engineer wouldn't help them with depleting ammunition and deteriorating gear. Rey always hated the "when life gives you lemons" saying. His mother ran the saying into the dirt and into the earth's core by the time he enlisted. Nevertheless, it reigned ever true. Up to this point, he had his doubts that he'd have participants standing by his side to attempt this lunacy. He'd made lemonade out of withering, bitter fruit that barely had enough juice to wet your mouth; and yet, it tasted sweet.

Jacen and Naomi came walking in, taking their positions with the rest of the group. Rey regarded them with a subtle nod before turning his attention to the everyone else. "I know we're all revving to get this done, but it doesn't hurt to cover our basis again and know our assignments. The only way this will work is if we have flawless teamwork. Anything less and we run the risk of the operation falling apart."

Rey let his last sentence sink in before moving on. "Okay, let's go over teams. Team Alpha, comprising of myself, Damon, Jacen, and Aiden, will lead by using the utility tunnels to reach engineering. Team Bravo: Aaron, Naomi, Kipp—you're positioned at our exit point with the vehicle. We'll need you ready to move when we come out with the Engineer. You'll be sprawled out, as you know. Aaron, you're our marksman. We need those spotters down."

"I'll get in as close as I can, cut some range," Aaron nodded.

"Good." Rey turned to Naomi. "Once the spotters are down and the vehicle is in place, you'll make your way around to the receiving bay doors. Stay out of sight. Take a wider route, if you need to. When we have the Engineer, I need you to take out one of those bay doors. How many rounds do we have for the SPNKr?"

"Two," Naomi answered. "One for the door and another in case things get… crowded."

"Just know that when that rocket hits, you need to haul back to the vehicle for support," Rey instructed. "We don't know how much heat will be on us."

"Let's not forget the comm delays," DEV announced, his volume increased.

Rey jerked his head around to the floating A.I. with furrowed brows. "I though you and Kipp solved that little problem?"

Kipp scratched a nonexistent itch on the back of his neck. It was news he knew Rey didn't want to hear—what any of them wanted to hear. Too many setbacks would tank any operation, but Kipp figured this wouldn't be the last time they received bad news. It certainly wasn't the first.

"We worked out the kinks the best we could, but we're dealing with short-range comms to begin with. The static is going to be there, nothing we can do about that. But the further we're away from each other, the long the delays. The longest delay DEV and I experienced was maybe a minute and thirteen seconds, and that's being 100 yards apart. Anything lesser is maybe 45 seconds or lower."

"That's going to throw our coordination off," Aiden commented.

"Or get someone killed," Aaron sounded off. "If we get separated, which is a strong possibility, we run the risk not be able to warn someone in time of a potential threat. By the time it takes our voice to reach that person, it could be too late."

"Then we make sure we stay together," Rey figured, "make sure we're no more than a few seconds out of contact." He turned to face Naomi, Kipp, and Aaron. "Bravo Team, you're the only ones who'll be mostly affected by the comm delay. You also have the most critical assignments. Naomi, when I radio that we have the Engineer, blow the door. Kipp, I need that vehicle ready to roll when we load it up. Aaron, unless we get in trouble, you stay back and pick off as many targets as you can. Keep 'em off us. Team Alpha's warthog will pick you up. We may need that second rocket to ensure our escape, Naomi. And please tell me that truck it up for it, Kipp. You've had more than enough time to get it ready."

Kipp felt as if all eyes were on him. For a man who had the least amount of combat experience, he never expected much to be leveled on his shoulders for the raid; but then again, Rey was true to his word: he needed Kipp's mind, not his body.

"The M18 is the best vehicle we have right now, but…," Kipp sighed and spat it out. There was no reason to be timid. "… it's a piece of junk, really. It can run; it's just the solenoid purge valve that's the issue. We don't have a replacement for it, and trust me, DEV and I searched the other vehicles. Once we get her started, there's a possibility she may stall out en route. Worst yet, she could stall when we're trying to make our escape."

Rey massaged his forehead with a forceful exhale. He scratched the corner of his mouth with his pinky, feeling his heavy scruff poking underneath his fingernail. "And if it stalls—how long will it take to get it started again?"

"Anywhere between five to ten minutes," Kipp guesstimated.

"That's too long, especially if we're up to our necks in alien dwarfs," Aiden pointed out.

"You know we will," Damon added.

"Then we hold them back." Rey didn't realize he'd raised his voice until he noticed the group staring back at him like concerned pupils in a classroom. He lowered his tone. "We roll with what we have, we adapt. The moment we doubt ourselves is the moment we don't come back. So if we're done with this type of talk, where are we with the capture device?"

This time Kipp didn't hesitate. "We're all set," he said with confidence. He reached for his rucksack behind him and pulled out cylinder canister with streaks of pale golden light around its seams. "I'm sure everyone here is familiar with the UNSC's bubble shields. DEV and I were able to modify it. When deployed, it traps anything inside. We increased the kinetic resistance, meaning we'll be able to physically guide it where it needs to go. It also protects the Engineer from possible crossfire. There is a catch, though..."

Rey sighed, "Of course there is."

Kipp continued. "The bubble will degrade over time. It'll completely collapse after three minutes or so."

"So we have three minutes to get that Engineer through the building and into the M18?" Aaron commented. "Fantastic."

"Technically, you have two minutes and fifty-eight seconds, but I wish not to be a stickler," DEV voiced.

Rey gave the A.I. a sidelong look before slipping his hands into his pockets. "We'll adjust where we can." Rey looked at them all: Astrid, Damon, Aaron, Jacen, Naomi, Aiden, Kipp, and even the insufferable DEV. He didn't know if he'd see all of them alive again, if they'd ever see him alive again. It was one giant toss-up. They were as prepared as they were ever going to be, snags included.

A man has to earn trust, boy; and a leader ain't nothing without the trust of the people. You want their trust, then show them that you're one of them; that you can bleed, that you can sweat, that you can endure. If you can do that, you can lead 'em all, son.

Rey just hoped those words remained true. "Any questions before we move out?" he asked.

The group didn't say anything. By this time, there was nothing more to discuss. No more analyzing, no more objections, no more stalling. It was time to muzzle up and allow their actions to speak for them now.

"Get your gear," Rey ordered. "We roll in two hours."

The lead Warthog plowed through the terrain, followed closely by the M18 truck. Their headlights sliced through the near-impenetrable darkness, so dark you would've been hard pressed to see your hand right in front your face. No one said a word. Damon was behind the wheel of the Hog, finding himself having to loosen the unnaturally tight grip he had on the steering wheel. He reasoned it was just his nerves. The night-vision monocular was, for now, holding up. It lit up the surrounding landscape in a sea of green and black, but there was nothing to see for miles. They wouldn't reach the Grunts for another twenty minutes or so. Damon decided to use that time to get his mind straight. He knew years of training would take over when the adrenaline hit, but the buildup created an unbearable angst he couldn't quite shake.

Jacen sat in the Warthog's rear with Aiden, eyes forward and unblinking behind his shades. To get this far probably didn't seem real to him, not yet anyway. It would turn very real in time; he was sure of that. He was confident of the strategy. It was sound, well planned. He wouldn't be cavalier in his thinking to say they'd accounted for every possible scenario, but they were pretty close. Rey deserved credit for that, at least. The aging army captain was settled in the passenger seat; his head turning neither to the left nor to the right. Always straight ahead.

He took an extended look behind the Hog, squinting into the headlights of the M18. He could barely make out Kipp behind the wheel and Aaron in the passenger seat. Naomi was probably in the rear of the cab, tuning out Aaron to the best of her abilities. He wanted to open a private channel, give her some last minute advice or encouragement. She'd accept neither, he suspected; but the piss-poor radios they had weren't capable of such a luxury. You key the comm and you'd spam everyone in range.

A shift in Rey's posture garnered Jacen's attention. He leaned forward in his seat, pressing his finger against his earpiece. "We're ten miles out now. ETA is five minutes. Know your call-signs. You got something casual to say, keep it to yourself. Don't dump that junk on open comms. Bravo-One, come in..."

There was a five second delay before Aaron replied. "Go for Bravo-One."

Rey winced at that. It felt too long, even though the M18 was right behind them. "Move up and get into position. It's almost time to break off. And cut the lights, defer to NV."

The engine to the M18 revved a few seconds later, pulling up alongside the Warthog's passenger side. Aaron leaned forward around Kipp and waved to Rey. After a two second delay, his voice came through to Rey. "We'll scout ahead and take a wide angle. Hopefully we'll see them before they see us."

Rey held a thumb's up. He fixed his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Damon.

"Captain!"

Rey jerked his head around to face Damon. "What?"

Damon pointed ahead. "I don't ever remember the compound being lit up like that."

Rey placed a firm grip on the frame of the windshield and stood up. Jacen and Aiden sat rod straight, craning their necks to see what the corporal had noticed. He was right. It seemed every exterior light the compound had was turned on, standing out like a lone light in a dark room. Even before they knew the Grunts had power, they hadn't used the building's lights on previous night ops before. Why the change?

"Neither have I. Slow down a little. We need to—"

What seemed to look like a signal flare ascended into the night sky from the rooftops of the Grunt compound, glowing a vibrate mixture of emerald and blue. It streaked across the sky, its trajectory unknown from it's continual ascension.

Aiden switched off his NV monocular from the glare for a better look. "What the hell is that?"

Jacen slung his rifle across his torso, slowly standing with the Hog rocking from side to side. He tracked it with his eyes as the ball of light appeared to expand in size as it approached. His core tightened. Jacen hit his radio. "Contact! That's a friggin' mor—"

The sphere of light dove for them and detonated.