38

It wasn't the first time they'd seen words carved into the bodies of victims. It was commonplace among rival insurgent cells, drug cartels, and the like. It sent a strong message, but it begged the question: human or alien? The Covenant was a vile and genocidal bunch, but they often just killed you and moved on to the next. This seemed personal, intentional. Marking territory. A warning to onlookers to view the example of what the consequences could be.

It didn't fit.

Damon spat the last of the vomit from his mouth, wiping his lips across his sleeve and picking up his helmet. He averted his eyes from the corpse, wishing so much that he could forget the smell. Standing in the middle of the chamber zone, he looked down the two corridors that branched ahead of him and to the left side. They were both pitch black, with only the faint glow of the EXIT signs giving any sense of light.

The footfalls of Jacen's boots sounded beside him. "Have you ever known the Covenant to do something like this?"

Damon kept his back to the body. "No. I've seen them mow down helpless civvies, but nothing like that."

Jacen removed his helmet, clipping it to his waist before wiping his reddened nose. "There could be a human element at work here. If there are survivors here, we shouldn't assume they're friendlies."

"You think they had infighting like we did?" Damon wondered. "Maybe they went crazy in desperation."

Jacen considered it. By Jasmine's timeline of events, if the Covenant attacked this place and moved on, the survivors might have been left with nothing. A lot could happen within a year. Devolving into savagery and rival groups wasn't out of the question. Had Quinn taken control, maybe something similar would've happened to them.

"I wouldn't rule anything out."

"Wouldn't be surprised if we're dealing with some disgruntled renegades." Naomi walked over from the opposite side of the zone. "I found the head. It rolled a good ways. This guy was UNSC. I doubt you guys do this to your own."

Damon positioned himself beside Jacen, using him to block the hanging body out of his peripheral as he faced Naomi. "How can you tell? He doesn't have clothes."

"His hair. High and tight cut. Looks like he kept it trimmed before… y'know. Also, some healed powder burns on his hands. Guess he didn't like gloves."

Damon seemed to take her word for it. He wasn't going in for a closer look to confirm. "Which way takes us to command?"

Jacen stood in place, seemingly deaf to Damon's question. He peered down the corridor that branched to the left, eyes squinted. A faint crimson glow pulsated in that darkness that he couldn't quite identify. It began to intensify, building. His heart stopped.

"Get down!"

Jacen threw Damon to the floor as a red streak of plasma went over them, splashing into the back wall and boiling away the metal.

Damon uncovered his head. "The hell was that?"

Jacen snatched Damon up on his feet and shoved his rifle in his chest. "We're in it now. Get ready."

Naomi moved out of the open, sticking her body to the support column in the off-center of the room. Damon and Jacen separated and took cover.

Something began moving in the darkness with a slow, deliberate gait. A low, feral hiss echoed that rattled in their bodies. Silence followed, so dense that Jacen could hear his heart pound against his chest rig.

A whirlwind of sapphire light danced against the metallic walls as a plasma grenade was tossed from the darkness. Jacen, Damon, and Naomi scrambled, clearing the area before the detonation scorched its surroundings and seemed to set the air on fire.

And then it appeared: tall and lean with muscle. Black feathers extended out from the back of its avian yet reptilian-looking face. There was an eye missing, the left seemingly blown out with horrid scarring around the wound. It squawked a reverberating roar and raised its rifle again to fire.

Jacen grabbed Damon by the back of his collar and shoved him down the other corridor as he opened fire towards the hybrid-looking jackal. The alien rolled out of the line of fire, moving as a blur between shotgun blasts until it covered the space between itself and Jacen. The jackal shoulder checked Jacen to the floor, sliding him across the floor like a pebble skipping across a pond.

Naomi pulled up firing, a few rounds clipping the alien's shoulder armor and nicked its arm. It snapped on its wrist-mounted energy shield and hunched down behind it. Naomi emptied the magazine into the shield, walking backward as Damon rushed in for a second volley.

The jackal's once sapphire energy shimmered into a lavender stage, then orange before failing. It darted out of sight with a snarl, vanishing into the darkness.

"Get moving. Get moving!" Damon backed into the next corridor, seeing Jacen crawl to his feet and take point.

"I'm on six," Naomi called out, slapping in a full mag.

"Eyes open." Jacen reloaded his spent shells. "There's bound to be more of 'em."

"That was not a normal jackal," Damon said. "It looked juiced and moved like a damn gymnast."

The three of them went left, quick yet cautious. More than enough evidence was being supplied from Jasmine's story as they continued to advance. There was a fight here, a bad one. Streaks of blood, spent shell casings, plasma burns. There were even gashes in the metal walls as if something raked its claws across. But in all the visual devastation, there was a question: where were the bodies? Aside from the warning corpse, there wasn't a single trace of anyone else. When did the Covenant care about body disposal?

"We're getting close," Jacen reported. "If we cut through the barracks, CIC should just be on the other side."

Naomi looked over her shoulder. Still nothing. "Good. I'm ready to get the hell outta here."

"That jackal can't be the only one here." Damon reacted to each noise he heard, aiming his rifle in the direction. "Jasmine said more were here. Bigger ones."

Jacen sighed. "Let's not speak it into existence, please."

"Hunters always send out the dogs before they show up themselves," Naomi said.

"So we just got flushed out?"

"Now you're learning." Naomi swapped positions with Damon. "Take our six. They know we're here so that either means they're loading up to hit us hard or they'll just let the dogs deal with us."

"Well, if the damn dogs look like that, I don't wanna know who the..."

Damon was snatched up from his feet by the back of his neck and began being carried off.

Jacen and Naomi spun around, seeing the Corporal being lifted into the ceiling by a pair of raptor claws. Naomi switched her sidearm and let off six shots into the ceiling tiles away from Damon. There was a howl and Damon was dropped on the floor. Jacen ran to pick up Damon as Naomi kept firing. The jackal from before lunged out from above, backhanding Naomi into the wall and drawing its carbine to fire.

Damon rolled on his back, holding down the trigger to his rifle with a scream until it clicked empty. The jackal stumbled back, blood dripping from the entry wounds. It regained its balance and came at them again.

Jacen fired the slugs at center mass, but the thing just kept coming. It shoved Damon aside with a swat, ripping open his gear, and fired off its carbine.

Jacen strafted right and kept firing, but the narrow corridor gave no protection. Boiling plasma burned across his thigh holster, the handle and slide of his sidearm liquified with a portion of his pants down to the gel layer. He buckled down to one knee, the heat stinging across his body like a hive of hornets.

He tried to raise his weapon to fire again, but the jackal was already on top of him, kicking him to the floor with a grin of teeth. Jacen never knew if jackals could smile if their facial structures allowed for such a thing; but the alien seemed to form a sinister smirk, aiming its carbine point-blank in his face where he could still feel the heat from the barrel. He hoped that it would be quick, turning his head away to await the single shot that would end it.

All he heard next was a guttural squawk and a spray of warm liquid on the side of his face. He dared to look, easing his eyes open to the jackal gasping for air with its throat sliced.

A steady stream of its blood dampened his chest rig and clothes underneath. And then the barrel of the gun was pointed at the alien's head and a single round was fired. The jackal toppled over on its side, dead with twitching limbs.

Jacen sat up, seeing a person standing over him in full UNSC gear with a helmet that obscured the face.

A feminine voice spoke with an outstretched hand. "Get the hell up and follow me!"

Jacen didn't think twice, grabbing her hand and heaving himself up off the floor. Damon and Naomi stood silent behind her, not knowing whether to comply with the stranger.

She spoke again, aiming her gun in the direction behind Jacen. "Stop looking at me and move! You stay here, you die. GO!"

Without another word, the three of them followed the stranger through the building, staying low as they snuck through the halls and entryways that never showed on the schematics: ventilation ducts embedded in the walls, maintenance tunnels underneath the floors, and quick sprints across open areas. The stranger appeared to be a master, moving so smoothly as if she'd done it a hundred times.

Their movement came to an end when the stranger came to what seemingly appeared like a dead end in the corner of a storage room. She eased aside a few old boxes on one of the bottom shelves of the rack, reaching in and moving aside a thin slab of concrete to reveal a hole in the wall.

"In here," she said.

The woman scurried through the opening and waved her hand for the others to follow. Damon, Naomi, and Jacen exchanged looks, shrugged, and eventually went through. When they were all inside, the woman shifted the boxes and then slid the concrete over the hole.

It was complete darkness until they heard the crack of a lime green glow stick, followed by a series of lanterns being winked on one by one until the entire area was lit.

The environment felt like deja vu. A bed, which was nothing more than a stack of blankets piled so high that it looked like a mattress. The food was stacked in the far corner, mostly canned and organized meticulously by the food group and expiration date. There were a few MA rifles, a single pistol, and maybe two dozen magazines.

"A lot of these buildings have hollow walls, vacant spaces for possible new construction. Certainly came in handy now," the woman said.

Naomi held back her laugh. "A lot more common than you think."

The woman's tone hardened. "Who are you? I don't recognize you, so you're from my group."

"I'm Cpl. Damon Vasher, UNSC North Camp. This is Jacen Pearce and Naomi Diaz. Civilians, sort of."

"You don't fight like civilians," the woman noticed.

"Hence the 'sort of'," Jacen muttered, making air quotes with his hands. "And who are you? We thought everyone here was dead."

The woman seemed to pause in thought. She reached up and unfastened the seals to her helmet and lifted it to reveal a black woman, mid-40s, serious eyes, and short wavy hair that stopped below her ears. There were healing scars and bruises on her face and reddened imprints on her neck.

"Captain Melissa Ross, West Camp group; or, at least I was. To be honest, I never expected to see anyone from another camp. After everything, it's good to know there's someone still out there."

Damon shook her hand. "Likewise, ma'am. We didn't know what to expect before coming here. Are there any more survivors?"

Ross laughed, but there was no humor in it. There was a tightness in her lips, her jaw working from side to side. "Yes, they're survivors, but they won't be alive for much longer. The ones they didn't kill, they took prisoner."

"Never knew the Covenant to take captives," Naomi said.

Ross snapped her head in Naomi's direction. "These creatures aren't Covenant. They're something else entirely, calling themselves the Banished. There's savagery in them that has no border." She paused. "You said you were from North Camp. That's Cpt. Anderton's assignment. Is he still alive?"

A smear of confusion went across everyone's faces, a discreet exchange of what the hell through their eyes. The look on the face of Cpt. Ross morphed from perplexing to awaiting expectation.

"Uh, yes," Damon started, "Cpt. Anderton is very much alive. In fact, he greenlit for us to come here based on some information we acquired."

"What type of information?" Ross followed up.

"That your camp had been attacked by the Covenant, but that you also knew the location of an ONI pelican here with enhanced communications to contact the UNSC. We were sent to investigate these claims. From what I see, part of it was true."

An I don't know what you're talking about look was imprinted on the face of Ross as Damon spoke, eventually softening into one of mild humor with a terse laugh. She wagged her head.

"She survived." Ross took a seat on the floor, leaning her back against the wall. "I do believe we have a common denominator here, folks. I think the same person that told me Anderton was being held captive by rebels is the same person that told you about the ONI pelican."

Naomi slammed her rifle on the floor with a train of Spanish expletives as Damon rested his hands on his hips with a sigh of frustration.

"I'll kill her," Naomi said. "As soon as we get back, I'm putting two in her head. I knew this was too good to be true."

"This is just fantastic," grumbled Damon. "A damn goose chase."

"Hey!" Ross shot up from her position, grabbing Damon and Naomi by their arms. "Keep your voices down! I didn't hide in this hole for a month for you to show up and let them find me. Now relax!"

Damon leveled his head. It was a kick in the gut. He felt so gullible, so stupid to give Jasmine the benefit of the doubt. Surely she knew the consequences of lying? Maybe she already knew her life was forfeited, so why not take as many of them down with her as possible?

"You were visited by a woman some months back, right? She would've come alone. Asian, dark hair, tattoos on her right arm."

"It's not every day a wanderer arrives at your gates. You don't forget that. She said her name was Kelsi, that there had been a revolt at your camp. Many died, she said, and Anderton had been captured. The camp was under rebel control and she fled for her life to come here. I'm guessing that's all bull."

"Partial truth," Jacen said.

Ross looked at him and shrugged her shoulders. "And what does that mean?"

Damon replied before Jacen could open his mouth. "It means she omitted her involvement. There was a rebellion in our camp, a bunch of disgruntled civvies stirred up to think that they'd be better in control than us. We exiled the survivors, but not without some significant losses on our side. She's an insurgent, through and through. To hear her tell it, we're the rebels in control of the camp."

Ross rubbed the underside of her chin with the back of her hand, forehead wrinkled in thought. "I had my suspicions. Her explanation seemed plausible. I've had to shut down a few potential cases of mutiny myself. She quickly earned her keep here, always the first to help. But I was born at night, not last night."

"She knew not to draw attention," Damon said. "But she lied to us, feeding us this trash story and we're no closer to getting off this rock than when we started." He vented a heavy exhale. "Nevertheless, we were able to find you and that's a win in my book. We have a vehicle parked away from the camp. Let's get you to safety, ma'am."

Cpt. Ross didn't seem too moved by the news. She remained in her place without a reaction before calmly returning to her seated position on the floor. Damon couldn't mask the complete bewilderment on his face. Did she not hear what he had said? After fighting for her life for months and surviving in a hole like a trapped animal, he thought she'd be elated. Was it against regulations for officers to show emotion, gratitude, something?

"She didn't lie to you," Ross said. "She only carried the lie… from me."

Damon blinked twice to reset. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I had our AI run the names of everyone in your camp. There was no record of this Kelsi. A possible error, but not likely." Ross reached for her food stock, grabbed a small tangerine, and began peeling. "If she was willing to hide who she was, then I suspected there was more to her story than she led on."

Damon untethered his weapon and took a knee in front of the Captain. "If you knew she wasn't being honest, then why not press her about it?"

Ross marked the inflection in his tone. It seemed too casual when speaking to an officer. Perhaps Cpt. Anderton had let some of his authority slide. He always wore the rank of an officer with disdain.

"You know the situation, Corporal," she reminded. "It's my job to keep everyone here alive until help arrives. There were more important matters. Even if I wanted to, I didn't get the chance. The Banished attacked us months later."

"But why lie to her about there being a ship here?" Naomi asked. "That doesn't make sense to me."

Ross looked over at Jacen before eating a slice. "Partial truth. There weren't many of them, maybe five or six, but the Banished wiped us out and nearly killed everyone. I've seen a lot in my service, but the way they kill, it's unnatural violence."

"You were taken prisoner?" Jacen asked.

Ross nodded. "I was, along with your friend."

"Her name is Jasmine," Naomi clarified. "Kelsi is an alias of hers, and she's not our friend. Not anymore. She never mentioned to us that she was captured. We thought she escaped."

"She did escape, but not at first." Ross nearly piled the tangerine peels together and set them aside. She dried her hands on her pants. "To her credit, she's a fighter—a good one. Held her own longer than my people. But the Banished separated us into groups; I'm guessing based on levels of threat. Those of us who were a threat were tortured and interrogated."

"And the other prisoners?" asked Damon.

"Food," Ross said.

"Dios mio." Naomi covered her mouth. Her legs felt weak and she sat down on the floor.

Damon fought to keep his composure, blocking the mental images that suddenly flooded his mind. It was worse than he previously thought. "Why'd they interrogate you? What did they want to know?"

"The same thing that we want—a way off this moon. From what I figure, they're trapped here just like us. They made me watch them torture my people before feeding them to the jackals. They didn't know anything, but they killed them anyway."

"They knew you were the leader," Jacen said. "They were trying to break you."

"No doubt," Ross agreed. "They tortured us next, and Jasmine was in there with me. For hours, they kept asking us if there was a ship here, that there had to be one somewhere. They would keep killing everyone until I told them."

Ross hung her head, rubbing her find across her hairline. "I just wanted the killing to stop. I didn't care if it cost my life, but I needed time to plan an escape. I told them there was a ship hidden by ONI, not slipspace capable, but enhanced communications. I gave them a fake location on the map, far enough away to give me time."

Everything was beginning to make sense now. It was difficult to imagine what the Captain had endured, to knowingly forfeit her life for the sake of her people. Damon didn't know if he would've been able to do the same. However, it didn't change the fact that the lie remained. There was no ship and another chance of salvation gone. The only hope was that Rey could put his head together with Ross and a solution could be found.

"You said it was a partial truth," Jacen said. "If it was a lie to buy time, then where was the truth in that?"

Cpt. Ross pulled her uniform and taut and glanced up to meet Jacen's eyes. "There is a ship here, but it's not ours."