Chapter 6: Hell on Cenar
Cenarian Forest
In just a split second, Paccone put his reflexes honed by years of warfare to good use. He quickly reached out and grabbed his assailant's arm and twisted it around in an attempt to get the attacker into a chokehold. It was then that Paccone managed to get a clear view of the attacker's face, and he hesitated momentarily. She was just a girl in her late teens, probably no older than eighteen. The moments hesitation was enough for the girl to wriggle out of his grip, and she backed off, still gripping her knife carefully.
Paccone had half a mind to shoot the kid when he heard the rest of his squad arming their rifles. He risked a quick glance and saw that they were surrounded by some kind of "wood men". That was the best description Paccone could make for them. There were about forty individuals shrouded in cloaks made to mimic the surrounding foliage, and most were armed with an assortment of melee weapons. A few carried scavenged human and Covenant weaponry. Paccone observed that the girl was only armed with her silver knife and a wooden stave strapped to her back.
Several tense seconds passed by as both sides waited for the other to make the first move. The standoff continued until a strong harsh voice called out through the trees.
"Stand down, everybody! I said STAND DOWN!" An old, grizzled figure of a man materialized out of the brush, apparently unarmed and waving his arms at his comrades. Many of them hesitated but slowly began lowering their weapons. It was obvious that this man was the leader of their group.
"Now then." The old man turned his gaze to the Marines, "Our fight is not with you, so you can lower your weapons. We have no reason to attack each other."
Paccone and his squad lowered their rifles, though Paccone still kept a wary eye on the girl in front of him.
The man laughed. "Don't worry about her. Tarin may be a little enthusiastic about combat, but she's bright enough to tell the difference between a human and Covenant!"
Paccone finally broke eye contact with Tarin and turned to meet the grizzled old man who introduced himself, "I'm Orlon, commander of the Cenar Irregulars."
Paccone shook his hand. "Sergeant Paccone of the UNMC."
"You can't believe how glad I am to see you, Sergeant." Orlon motioned to his small band of guerilla fighters. "We've been staging hit and runs on the Covenant for weeks ever since they landed their slimy feet on our planet, but we're running close to our limit on supplies and manpower. Now that the Marines are here, I'm sure we can start getting some much needed support."
"Wait." Paccone stopped Orlon. "I believe there's been a serious misunderstanding here."
Orlon raised his eyebrow curiously. "What?"
"We are not, contrary to what you may believe, the vanguard of a liberation or relief force." Paccone kept his gaze on Orlon, who still made no reaction. "We're here to oversee the evacuation of all civilians in this area. A Covenant armada is en route to this system as we speak, and in numbers that the current UNSC forces in orbit have no hope of repelling."
Orlon still made no visible reaction, but Paccone could tell that the other guerillas were shaken by the news. Most began shifting uncomfortably, and whispering unheard words to their comrades.
"I'm afraid we can't do that." Orlon finally replied.
"Look, I know that you may want to stay here and fight for your world, but-"
"No," Orlon shook his head. "I think now you may be misunderstanding ME. We can't leave because there are still upwards of a thousand people gathered at a nearby sanctuary. Until we can reach them, evacuation is just simply not possible."
Covenant Reconnaissance Outpost
Relamee was disturbed by the reports being transmitted to him. Over the past few weeks, more and more of his patrols had been disappearing in the forest. Relamee never expected any heavy resistance on this backwater world, and his main purpose on the ground was to scout out targets that would be chosen as priority for plasma bombardment once the armada arrived. At first, Relamee thought that the patrols simply got lost and forgot to report in. It was very easy to get lost in these accursed woods. But then hours passed into days, days into weeks, and still no word from the missing patrols. Relamee finally suspected that there were indeed hostile forces prowling the area, and had already sent an assault force eighty strong to the are where the most recent disappearances had taken place. Relamee hoped that this move would finally resolve the situation once and for all.
Cenarian Forest
"So, you're Tarin, right?" Paccone asked, glancing at the enigmatic girl walking at his side.
The girl nodded without saying anything.
"Don't mind her." Orlon spoke. "She doesn't speak much to her friends, much less complete strangers."
"So where'd she learn those moves?' Paccone asked. "I never knew she was there until she was right on top of me."
"My father taught me." Tarin said suddenly, catching both Orlon and Paccone by surprise.
"Ah yes, good old Zan." Orlon grinned. "One of the most vicious and deadliest men I have ever known. Doesn't look it, but Zan is a true wood man. Knows the ins and outs of every environment, as well as a few combat moves. He taught us all most of his combat and tracking skills. Skills that were and are vital to our survival in this place."
"Sounds like he's quite the man." Paccone whistled.
"He's with the rest of the refugees." Orlon continued. "He showed them the hiding spots, but when the Covenant came, he refused to go and fight them, so me, Tarin here, and anybody else crazy enough to follow broke off to take the fight to the Covenant."
Intrigued, Paccone asked Tarin, "So, are you as good as your old man?"
"Sadly, no." Orlon stepped in before Tarin had a chance to speak. "Before he could teach her everything, she left with me to go fight off the Covenant raiding parties. But hell, that doesn't matter." Orlon laughed. "Even if her training is incomplete, Tarin is still by far the best of us. She's chalked up over thirty Covenant scumbags on her own."
Tarin didn't say anything. Paccone looked to see what was the problem and was surprised to see that she was no longer there anymore. Besides his memory of the conversation, Paccone would be hard pressed to prove that anybody had been there at all.
"Did she just-?"
"Yep." Orlon nodded. "She does that a lot. You get used to it."
"You do an awful lot of talking for her." Paccone remarked snidely.
"Mingling with strangers is, sadly, not one of the many things her father taught." Orlon sighed. "Don't worry about it though, she's a tough girl."
Suddenly, one of the point men ducked down and raised his fist in the air, a symbol to take cover. Like water, the group of humans melded into the surrounding forest.
Paccone stayed down as he saw a Covenant patrol wander its way through the woods. From his position, all he could see were the feet of the oncoming enemies, though he was able to estimate that there were roughly fifteen Grunts, six Jackals, and three Elites. Paccone kept a careful eye, and noticed that one Grunt bringing up the rear had disappeared. Paccone wasn't sure if he had miscounted or not until he saw another Grunt get pulled into the brush without a sound. One Grunt turned and noticed that its comrades were missing and squealed in alarm. Then all hell broke loose.
A guerilla burst out from a hidden spider hole and rammed a knife blade into a Grunt's throat. More guerilla fighters similarly emerged from cover like shadows and pounced on the surprised enemies. Unfortunately, the remaining Covenant began to open fire, shooting wildly into the brush. Paccone could see at least one guerilla fighter emerging from the brush get perforated by needler rounds. Paccone leapt up from his hiding spot and put a three round burst right between the eyeballs of the Jackal right in front of him. The rest of his squad followed suit, popping out of cover like gophers and adding their considerable firepower to the fight.
Tarin, who was perched on a tree branch above the battle, waited patiently for the right time to strike. As if on cue, the needler-toting Elite, the same one that had killed Barry, backed up right under her branch, firing more needle rounds into the mass of bodies in front of it. Tarin unsheathed her knife and leapt off the branch, landing straight onto the Elite's back and knocking it flat. Without hesitation, she stabbed her blade straight into the Elite's skull. It's shields, already weakened by the weight of Tarin's fall, couldn't hold off the force of the stabbing blade. The blade jammed itself into the Elite's head, and Tarin had to hold on with all her might as the alien trashed and twitched. She quickly pulled the blade back out and turned to face the second Elite. The first was already dead, and its only movements were that of involuntary spasms.
The second Elite, obviously enraged at the death of its partner, growled and tightened its fists. Tarin, unfazed, drew out her wooden stave.
"Bring it." She growled back.
The third Elite died as it was cut down by the combined arms of Paccone's squad. The rest of the Covenant patrol was either dead, or fleeing, though they wouldn't make it far with the deadly wood warriors at their heels. Paccone made a quick body count and noticed that one Elite was still alive. He aimed his rifle but hesitated. He was completely amazed by what he saw.
Tarin was in a position that no sane human would ever willingly put themselves in. She was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with an Elite. However, as Paccone looked on, he suddenly realized that he had little to worry about.
Tarin was remarkably agile, flowing around the Elite's attacks like water. No matter what move or attack the Elite tried, Tarin always found a way to avoid the blow. Not only that, but she also managed to turn every dodging maneuver into a vicious attack, often using her momentum to deliver a savage counterattack with her stave, bashing it into the Elite. The Elite's shield flashed and sparked as it took the blows, but energy shielding could only withstand so much punishment. The shields finally popped after a particularly hard blow to the Elite's ribs, and in a fury, it swung its blade laterally in an attempt to behead Tarin. Reacting swiftly, Tarin ducked under the swing, and before the Elite could recover from its attack, Tarin leapt up and plunged her knife right into the vulnerable neck seal between the Elite's helmet and collar plate. The Elite gurgled and thrashed as it tried to pull away, but Tarin held on and kept the blade jammed in its throat until the alien finally slumped down and stopped moving. Panting heavily from the effort, Tarin finally pulled the knife from the dead Elite's throat and sheathed it.
Paccone was lost for words. He had just seen a girl kill two Elites with nothing but a knife and a stick.
Orlon smiled when he saw Paccone's expression. "Yeah, I did the exact same thing when I saw it for the first time, too."
Some of the other guerilla fighters cheered and congratulated Tarin on another fine pair of kills, though all she could do was nod to them. She was completely exhausted from the battle.
"She would make one fine Marine."
Orlon grinned. "Is that a job offer?"
"You're god damn right it is."
Both men laughed. Orlon then sobered. "What's the count?"
Paccone did a quick check of his squadmates. "They're all still alive, though I've seen some of your people take some bad hits."
Orlon nodded. "Three dead, five seriously wounded. I think one of them is too far gone to help."
Paccone nodded solemnly, there was no getting around it. "We better start moving again, before we get caught by another patrol."
As Orlon and his crew began to dispose of the bodies and scavenge equipment, Paccone took a quick look at his mission timer and didn't like what he saw. He now had roughly only five hours to meet the evacuation deadline. If they ran into any more firefights like this, the Covenant armada would be right on top of them before they knew it.
Covenant Reconnaissance Outpost
Relamee was in a fit of rage when he heard yet another patrol was inexplicably lost. Relamee was so angry in fact, he backhanded a Grunt that just happened to be standing too close to the door. His anger was only tempered by the fact that his assault force had found the trail of something...
Camp Emerald Valley
Paccone was thoroughly unimpressed with what he saw. The human camp was basically a complex filled with rows of tents and temporary cabins, as well as a few permanent structures. Civilians of all shapes and sizes milled about, packing up prized possessions and looking for any idle Pelican transports.
Paccone didn't really want to put a dent in these people's morale, but it had to be done. He had told everybody about their planet's predicament and called the Monte Cassingo to send down the evacuation ships. So far, things were going smoothly and most of the civilians were already shipped off. The only people left were stragglers who couldn't find a ship just yet, and some crazy die-hards who wanted to stay and fight for their planet.
Paccone looked over and saw Tarin sitting on a bench sharpening her knife. Paccone went and sat down next to her.
"That's a very fine knife." Paccone said, trying to get the mysterious girl to talk.
Tarin nodded, but didn't look up from her task.
"You know, I would prefer a standard issue Marine combat knife any day, but that is one fine piece of work." Paccone observed the inscriptions and runes acid-etched into the silver blade, which made it all the more alluring.
"Is there a reason why you're here?" Tarin finally said.
"Well, not really. I was just screwing around and thought that I could find some amusement just pestering you."
"Well, it's working, which means you'll find a knife up you ass in the near future." Tarin growled.
Paccone was about to retort when the thruster wash of a passing flight of Pelicans drowned it out. It was the last Pelican flight before the UNSC Navy left the system for good.
"Come on, that's our ride." Paccone said, standing up.
"No."
Paccone stopped and turned around again. "What? Did I hear that right?"
"I'm going back." Tarin said confidently. "Back with Orlon and my father, to fight the Covenant."
"Don't be crazy, girl!" Paccone blurted out, not knowing why. "You'll just die when the Covenant glass this planet! What do you hope to achieve?"
"I left my father once, I'm not making that mistake again." Tarin stood up. "I'm going back to him. Whether I leave or stay is up to him."
Before Paccone could say anything else, he heard the distinct whine of plasma fire. He quickly tackled Tarin to the ground as a flurry of plasma bolts flew past. The crowd of remaining civilians screamed as dozens of them were cut down by the sudden energy barrage. The remaining guerilla fighters starting running to head off the Covenant attack, but Paccone saw nearly eighty assorted Grunts, Jackals, and Elites bust out of the forest firing indiscriminately. Many of the guerillas were gunned down in the subsequent waves as they tried to close in use their melee weapons.
"Shit!" Paccone cursed, picked up Tarin in his arms, and started sprinting for the Pelicans. The Marines guarding the dropships began throwing support fire for him as he ran. Meanwhile, the Covenant was delayed as Orlon and Zan led the remainder of their forces into a vicious flanking attack, and the entire battle turned into a brutal melee.
The Pelicans were leaving now. All of the surviving civilians were on board, and the zone was getting too hot for the pilots' liking. Paccone leapt into one of the few remaining Pelicans, but before he could knew it, something hit him in the face and he blacked out for a second. When he regained his senses, he noticed that Tarin was missing.
"Damn girl!" He cursed again. Why was he so concerned about her?
"You!" Paccone pointed at the Pelican pilot. "You keep this tub here until I get back, or when you get fried by Covenant plasma, is that clear?"
He was out the door before the pilot even had a chance to protest. Paccone took a quick look around. It was total carnage. Tents and buildings were ablaze from rampant plasma fire. Bodies of both Covenant and human warriors littered the ground. He caught a glimpse of two figures tearing apart the Covenant formations with acrobatic ease. He assumed that they were Orlon and Zan. He then saw Tarin fighting her way in their direction, slaughtering any Grunt or Jackal unlucky enough to get in its way.
"Sergeant!" The radio yelled, it was the Pelican pilot. "Reports of the Covvie fleet! It's here! Oh my god, they're going to glass us! They're going to-"
"Keep it together, soldier!" Paccone yelled back into his radio, "We are NOT going to die. Stay on station until I get back!"
Paccone had finally caught up with Tarin and grabbed her by the arm. With lightning fast reflexes, Tarin whipped around, her knife aimed at Paccone's heart. Paccone sidestepped and grabbed her other arm, squeezing a pressure point on her wrist and forcing her to drop the knife.
"It's me!" He cried.
"I know!" Tarin yelled. Paccone could see
the rage in her eyes. "Why are you trying to stop me?"
"Because you're going to die if you go that way!"
"Fuck you!"
Tarin struggled as she tried to free herself from Paccone's grip. Paccone meanwhile was trying to tug her back to the waiting Pelican.
Then the first plasma torpedo hit.
Even though it struck about fifteen miles away, Paccone could still feel the immense heat of the beam wash over him, and the sudden flash of light left the image seared into his eyes. He would see the same sight every time he closed his eyes for days afterwards. Suddenly, more and more shafts of light began touching down. The glassing had begun.
"Son of a bitch!" Paccone yelled, realizing what was going to happen.
"Son of a btich!" Tarin screamed, blinded by the plasma strike.
Paccone took the chance to drag a kicking and screaming Tarin back to the Pelican. Paccone looked back one last time, and saw the patch of forest that Orlon and Zan were fighting in was just melted and fused glass. He sadly shook his head and closed the Pelican hatch. When he sat down, he saw Tarin on the other side of the Pelican, looking out of the hatch and watching the forests of her homeworld burn for the first and last time. Tears of sadness and rage welled up in her eyes.
"Fuck you, Sergeant. I never asked for you to save me. I wanted to stay and fight for my world, not run like a coward!"
Paccone didn't say anything, though he suspected that he would regret this some day.
Present day
"What happened after that?" Karla asked.
"Well, the Sergeant basically sponsored me into the Marine Corps, and used a few favors to fast-track me into officer training." Tarin sighed. "The main reason why I stayed was in the vain hope I would meet him again some day, and then give him the beating he deserved."
"I would love to see that day." Karl grinned, "What do you think about him now?" Karla suspected she knew the answer already.
"Looking back after all I did in the Marines, I'm starting to get the unthinkable notion that maybe, just maybe, Paccone made the right call."
"Story of my life." Karla sighed.
"Are you going to tell Williams about this?"
Karla raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, he is your personal slave..."
"You actually cracked a joke!" Karla laughed. "No, I'll leave that up to you. You two should talk more, Williams could really a use a friend."
"I don't think it'll work out, Captain."
"Ah, don't worry. Personally, I think Williams is into older women anyway." Karla wisecracked.
Tarin blinked in surprise. "I- I never thought about talking to him that way."
"Silly Tarin, always taking things so seriously." Karla laughed. "Just don't kill Paccone or anything, that's a job reserved for me."
"Can I horribly wound him?"
"Maybe." Karla nodded "Carry on, Lieutenant Richards. If you will excuse me, I've got a few more people to see."