++August 23rd, 1900 Hours++
We keep driving, heading inward on the highway towards the central business district of New Alexandria, or more accurately what's left of it. From my position in the passenger seat, and elevated by the highway, it's easy to see the extent of the destruction. Harvest was ugly, a true war; two armies slamming into each other, learning about each other's weaknesses, their strengths. It was the first time we'd come up against the Covenant, and we gave as good as we got. Every inch cost them alien blood, equipment, and ships. This? This is different. While we've been fighting I had hoped it was just us, that our efforts had spared the rest of the city the rigors of siege. But as we drive I can tell which districts were hardest for the Covenant to take, because there isn't much of them left.
Entire blocks have been reduced to smoking ruins. The aliens don't discriminate against targets – military, non-military – it doesn't matter to them. If humans are there, hiding, fighting: they die. I wonder if that's something they're making an exception for us, or if that's just how they fight? How can a species be so cruel? Where's the honor in slaughter like this? In extermination?
I look over at Naomi. Her blue armor is showing a lot less blue these days. Parts are covered in grime, black soot, and there isn't a single surface that isn't scratched up. I think back on my time with ONI, and the Spartan programme. At the time we were still fighting the Insurgents. They were farmers who felt their taxes were being misused for an opulent inner core of planets who, they said, were funding a lavish lifestyle with the suffering of the outer worlds. So they wanted out; To leave the United Earth Government.
It was the insurgents who struck first, killing a group of civilians aboard the UNSC Callisto and using that as part of an elaborate trap to assault three UNSC Destroyers attempting to de-escalate the situation. After that the UNSC was deployed to bring them to heel. That's when I joined the marines, only for my test scores to have me snatched up by ONI. They never told me exactly what scores made me eligible for selection. I never felt like a high performer, just particularly motivated. So began my honorable career of kidnapping defenseless children in the middle of the night, for reasons I didn't even bother to ask about. It was enough to me then that we were winning the war.
"Naomi," I say into a private channel, "Do you remember when you joined the Spartan program?"
She doesn't take her eyes off the road as she responds. "I didn't."
"No, I know I just mean… What was it like?"
Her helmet flicks to the side, just for a moment to observe me. She pauses, and when she speaks her voice is soft. "It was the hardest thing I can imagine. Every day was a challenge just to keep going. All we had was each other, and everything - everything - was designed to push us to the limit."
I frown, and look back at the ruins of buildings as they pass alongside us. "I'm sorry." I say dryly.
"Don't be. It's not your fault. I didn't know it at the time, but it was necessary. They told me it was, but I didn't really understand till my first mission. What they gave me was the power to change things."
"Like a war?"
She doesn't respond at first. "We'll find a way. I promise."
I need to tell her about what happened. "Naomi, I want to tell you… When I joined ONI I was working alongside–"
Naomi yanks the wheel sideways, and the Warthog's wheels skin against the road. I'm rocked from my sentence, and my helmet hits the side of the roll cage with a loud thwak . Then I hear it: the crack of a gunshot, and see the burning hole in the windshield.
"Enemy sniper!" I call out to the discombobulated collection riding in the back.
Wink swings the main gun upwards. "Call it out!" She orders and I shift forward and look through the windshield. I don't see anything at first, then a flash from an office building window
"Office building, five-hundred meters, top floor window. It's the one next to-
"Got it!" Wink opened up with the gun. The barrel spins and erupts with tracers as she sends them screaming towards the target. I see the impacts sprinkle the building, smashing glass and stucco alike. At this range the turret doesn't have the accuracy to guarantee a killshot, but it will at least keep the sniper from being able to return fire.
"Multiple shooters." Naomi announces, pulling the wheel again to dodge past an abandoned truck still on the highway. Another shot hits the front of the Warthog and puts a burning hole in the engine bay.
"Other side!" Viking calls out. "This is fucking sniper valley!"
I hear rather than see another of the alien bolts sizzle past my head and Wink screams. She falls off the gun, pulling it upwards and sending a stream of tracers into the sky.
"Wink's hit!" Chance announces, and immediately shifts position to try and locate her wound.
"I'm fine!" She responds. "He got my leg."
"Viking, get on the gun!" Chance bellows.
For my part I lean my gun out of the side and start firing towards the nearest enemy position I can actually see. The battle rifle bucks against my shoulder as three round bursts are sent one after the other towards blacked-out windows.
Suddenly, Naomi announces, "Hold on." She yanks the wheel again, this time hard, and keeps her foot anchored to the floor.
"WALL!" I shout as we're sent directly into the side barrier of the highway.
The Warthog slams through, and keeps going. Shattered concrete follows us as the heavy vehicle does its best impression of a plane, which it turns out isn't a very good impression at all. I let go of my rifle to grab the roll cage, and watch gravity keep the gun hovering in front of my face, still attached to me by its sling. We must be twenty feet up. It feels like we're falling for minutes and I stare at the rapidly approaching ground with abject terror. When we finally impact, the force is bone-jarring. The front end hits first, and I hear the wheels crunch as the suspension is pushed far beyond its limit. The back slams down even harder, and the entire bottom of the vehicle scrapes the road.
Still, Naomi isn't done, and since the engine is still running she seems disinclined to let off the gas. She drives the Warthog onto the sidewalk, smashing through posts, signs, and trash cans. We speed through street after street, making distance as fast as we're able before finally turning a corner and coming to a stop.
Naomi hops out instantly, while I'm still struggling to get control of my stomach. It's lucky we haven't had any substantial food in a few days, or I'd have lost it. Why is a drop pod easier than a twenty foot drop? I think to myself.
"Where is she hit?" Naomi asks.
"Upper thigh, right leg." Chance answers.
They've moved Wink onto her back, and laid her down in the short bed of the Warthog. They've removed her helmet, and I can see she's shivering from the shock. Her face is pale, but not alarmingly so.
"Let me see." Naomi says, and gently moves Chance to the side. She pulls at the fatigues, tearing the fabric with ease, and examines the wound. Wink winces with pain, but clenches her jaw and endures it.
"How bad is it?" Wink asks, trying to keep her voice level and her heart rate controlled.
"Not. It missed your artery. You will live if we dress the wound and get you some antibiotics."
Chance shakes his head. "We don't have time for that. Who has biofoam?"
Viking shakes his head, as does Wink. "We're out." Viking announces.
I quickly remove the last canister from the pouch at my thigh. "Not yet - this is all I've got though." I offer it to Chance who takes it.
Wink abruptly places her hand on the canister and shakes her head. "No, wait. This is our last one. It isn't a critical injury, I'll be fine. We bandage it up and I'll walk it off."
Chance snorts, and bats her hand away. He inserts the applicator nozzle at the wound and breaks the seal. Foam instantly fills the hole and the surrounding area. The relief on Wink's face from the topical painkiller is instantaneous.
"That's the adrenaline talking." Chance tells her. "We'll find more if we need it. Right now, you need it."
"Asshole." She murmurs, but I see she's smiling up at him. It might be the painkillers, or the adrenaline, or both – but she looks at him in a way where I know he's the world to her. Whatever they might say about their relationship now, in moments like this I can see why they were together.
"Ginger," Naomi says, "Are you comms working?"
After switching over and hearing nothing but static I shake my head. "No. More jammers?"
"No, it's the glassing. Creates a lot of interference."
Chance helps Wink out of the Warthog and onto her feet. She's ginger with her wounded leg at first, but after putting weight on it a few times she nods and holds herself up. She's going to have a limp until the foam binds properly and she gets some rest, but it will do.
"We need to find a stronger transmitter then." Wink suggests. "Something that can boost the signal. I'm sure command won't have trouble receiving if we can just get through the background noise."
Naomi nods in agreement. "That is an accurate assessment."
I watch Viking move towards the front of the Warthog, and bend over, checking it for damage. It's then that I realize something. "When we were on the highway I saw some kind of media tower not far from here. Maybe a radio or TV station? Had a series of dishes on it though."
"That will work." Naomi confirms. "Which way?"
"Ummm…" I look around and try to get my bearings, retracing the memory and the direction where we departed the highway. "I think it was that way." I point roughly to the North-East.
"We'll take the Warthog." Chance declares, and gives a sidelong glance to Wink.
"I can walk fine." Wink chastises.
"Well… thats good," Viking says with a half-sarcastic tone, "Because the Warthog is fucked. The front arm aperture is snapped and the chassis is bent. We're leaking coolant like it's going out of style and the differential is cracked."
Naomi clasps her hands behind her back. "I apologize for damaging our transport, but I felt it was necessary to avoid further enemy fire."
I chuckle. "You did good."
"Yeah." Wink confirms. "I don't want to get shot twice."
"Alright…" Chance says with a sigh. "We walk. Let's move. Viking, help Wink."
"I said I'm fine, Chance." Wink protests.
"Samantha…"
"Oh no, don't you 'Samantha' me, Alex. I'm fine ."
"I'll just… get my rifle." Viking says before clearing his throat. I do the same, but both of us can still hear them arguing.
"I'm just looking out for you!" Chance explains.
"No, you're coddling me. If Viking got his balls blown off you'd tell him to butch up and walk."
"No I wouldn't."
"Yes you would! Oh my god. I know you're worried-"
"I'm just looking out for the squad!"
"Yeah? Yeah, Chance? Is that what you're doing?"
It's Naomi who clears her throat and interjects. "Perhaps this discussion can wait till we arrive at the station? We are exposed."
Wink snorts. "She's right. Why don't you lead us out, Sergeant? I'll walk."
Chance takes a deep breath, then sighs. "Alright… Mom and dad are done fighting. Let's go Kilo-Five."
Wink groans with clear annoyance, but doesn't say anything.
It turns out the transmitter I saw belonged to a TV station about four blocks from where we had to ditch the Warthog. Surprisingly it seems in relatively good condition, with only superficial damage to the building. The large transmitter tower is the important bit though, and while it looks fine from the ground, there's no way of telling if the sensitive electronics have been damaged until we're up there using them.
Inside it's clear this section of the city wasn't one the Covenant focused on. The power still being on is the main indicator. The lobby is relatively clean, and there aren't any bodies. There's a coffee mug, still full, sitting on the receptionist's desk, so the evacuation order must have arrived in time.
"Where's the broadcast room?" Viking asks.
"I do not know." Naomi confesses. "I am unable to pull up any blueprints since the interference has blocked my connection."
"It's not going to be on the first floor," Chance suggests, "So we need to find a stairwell."
"Over here." I say, pointing towards a fire door leading into a plain, concrete walled stairwell. I clear the corridor with my rifle, quartering the small space before aiming upwards. "Looks clear."
"Let's head on up." Chance says, and I take point.
Even though at this stage in the siege it's incredibly unlikely Covenant forces are simply laying in wait inside the station, there is no real guarantee they aren't. As such I proceed with an abundance of caution, clearing each landing and opening the stairwell doors to peer out into the hallway one floor at a time. Technically we should clear each room, and every floor, to ensure we aren't left exposed to an unknown threat. But given the time crunch imposed by the glassing still being performed in other sections of the city, we take the risk and press onwards.
On the fifth I find what we're looking for. When I peek into the hall I see a large sign that reads 'BROADCASTING.' It is currently unlit. "Here."
The team moves in behind me and we push to the door in question. The clear is smooth, and we enter without any sign of the enemy. It's a large room, with two sections. The one we're currently in looks to be some kind of control room. There are computers and equipment all over, and large processing towers line the walls. In the other section are dozens of professional quality cameras pointed towards a small circular stage and a desk with two chairs. Big block, red letterings behind it say 'GBH NEWS.'
"Looks like everyone left." Viking says. "I hope they got out of the city alright.
"Try worrying about how we're going to get out." Wink comments.
Naomi moves towards the main computer terminal and starts clicking away at the keys. It doesn't take long for her to give up though, and she moves to the wall where the direct connections actually are. She pulls off one of the panels and dives in, sorting through wires the purpose of which I could only guess at.
"Do you know what you're doing?" Viking asks.
"When you have seen one transmitter you've seen them all." Naomi comments.
"Really?" He says.
"No. That was a joke." Naomi pulls out a wire from the wall before removing the combat knife from her hip. "But do not worry, I am a fast learner."
Wink props her rifle up against a desk, before she sits in the chair with a small grunt. Chance moves towards her. "Hows the wound?"
She shrugs. "Leg still works."
He chuckles. "Sorry."
"It's okay."
Viking moves to the news desk and takes a seat in the anchor's chair, then removes his helmet. He drums his hands on the desk and then picks up a set of discarded papers. "Oh what the hell."
"What?" I question, then pull off my helmet as well just to get some fresh air.
"These pages are blank! I thought they read the news off these."
Wink sighs. "No, dumbass, they read it from the teleprompter. The pages are just for looks so they aren't awkwardly staring at the camera the whole time."
Viking snorts. "Well that's stupid…"
"Ammo check." Chance announces.
I pat myself down. "One in the gun, one spare."
"Half a mag." Viking says.
"Two rounds in the rifle and then I'm down to the pistol." Wink laments.
"Alright…" Chance nods. "Well – hopefully the evac site is nearby?"
I pull a seat away from another desk and plop down. It feels good to be off my feet, even if we were just in a Warthog not too long ago.
"What do you think changed?" Wink asks. "That they started glassing us, I mean."
I shrug. "No idea."
"Hey, wasn't it you saying they wanted the planet for something?" She retorts. "Where's my hope Ginger?"
"Guess I was wrong, I dunno? I mean, maybe they got what they wanted already? Or maybe you were right, and it was the navy holding them back this entire time?"
"Yeah well… twenty years of preparation and it doesn't seem like they did much better this go around. Fuckin' flyboys." She grumbles.
"They're doing the best they can. You know the problem with the Covenant: we can't track their movements till they drop out of slipspace. Then they're on top of us. I mean look how we've been faring down here? I doubt they have it easier."
"Pretty damn fucking well, actually." Wink hisses. "Considering we were dropped here to fight insurgents, I think we've done alright."
"Damn right, sister." Viking chimes in.
"Perhaps we will find out what has changed," Naomi cuts in, "I believe I have solved our connection problem."
Chance moves over first, with Viking getting up and following. Wink doesn't move, but shoos me over towards the console when I offer her a hand. Once we've all gathered around, Naomi turns to look at us.
"I do not believe we have a choice, but you should know: I am able to open a secure channel, but I will not be able to hide the signal. The Covenant won't be able to hear us, but they'll know we sent out a signal and where from. It is likely we will need to leave the building rapidly."
Chance nods. "Understood. Do it."
Naomi nods and touches two wires together, then flips a switch on the console and hands Chance a microphone. He removes his helmet and takes the device, putting it to his lips.
"This is Kilo-Five reporting from New Alexandria GBH News Station. Does anybody read me? Over." He pauses, then repeats the message.
"Come on…" Viking whispers.
"Kilo-Five, this is Colonel Holland. It's been awhile since last we spoke, but I haven't forgotten what you did at the tower. It's good to hear your voices. Is Spartan Zero-One-Zero with you? Over."
"She is, Sir. We're all here. Over." Chance confirms.
"Outstanding, Sergeant. Absolutely outstanding. Your team is proving incredibly difficult to kill. What's your status? Over."
"We're critical on ammunition and supplies. We're running on minimal sleep, and we lost 5th Precinct, as well as FOB Viper to enemy assault and glassing, respectively. We're trying to leave the city, Sir. Over."
A moment of silence. "I understand, Sergeant. Just moments ago I finished tasking Noble Team to evacuate New Alexandria on special assignment. We're trying to get everyone out, but unfortunately there are still some remaining things that have to get done, and your team is the only one equipped in the entire city. Over."
Viking gently presses his fist against the console and I close my eyes to pretend I didn't hear that. Chance looks at me for a moment, and frowns. "Does this mean we're abandoning the city, Sir? Over."
"That's affirmative, Sergeant. The UNSC is pulling out of the city to take up new defensive positions. New Alex is lost. I know you've been fighting hard, and it's a bitter pill to swallow, but the fight isn't over. The navy is launching Operation: Red Flag with the purpose of getting us on the offensive. I can't give you details, but rest assured we're not done with Reach. Not yet. Prepare to receive new tasking. Over."
"Standing by for orders, Sir. Over." Chance replies.
"There is an ONI Installation code named Omega. It's where the city AI is housed. Due to the rapid response nature of our defense of New Alex the AI was given access to the military net. It has a full accounting of remaining UNSC forces on the ground, Sergeant. All our assets, and our positions. It's our hand, and we can't let the Covenant know what cards we've got. You understand? Over."
"Roger that, Sir. Are we blowing it up, Sir? Over."
"Negative. I've been informed by Doctor Halsey that your Spartan asset comes equipped with an AI interface and transport module as part of her armor layout. She is to take hold of the AI asset, intact. Once you have the asset, contact this channel, and we'll get you out of the city. Clear?"
"Yes, Sir. Kilo-Five will get it done. Over."
"That's good to hear, Chance. I know right now things seem grim, and I won't lie to you, they are. But you're making us all damn proud – all of you. You're showing the Covenant just what the ODST can really do. Keep up the good work. Colonel Holland out."
With that the line goes dead. Chance holds the microphone for a moment, then hands it back to Naomi. "Welp. That's that." He says unceremoniously.
Suddenly an unusually calm and sterile voice that almost passes for a human female, breaks over the console. "Greetings Kilo-Five, this is Alice. It is good to see you all alive. I do not wish to alarm you, but I am tracking two Covenant Spirit gunships en route to your position. Estimated time of arrival: two minutes. I suggest evacuating the area."
"Roger that, we're on our way!" Chance shouts, before abandoning the console and pulling his helmet on. "Go, go, go!" He signals towards the door.
I dash towards the door, and look back to see Naomi still hunched by the console. "Naomi, come on!"
"I will be right behind you, Ginger." She doesn't look up from her work.
Viking pulls at my shoulder. "She'll be fine, man. Come on."
We're rushing ourselves down the stairwell as fast as we can, bounding down four and five steps at a time. Chance is helping Wink, her arm over his shoulder and one hand on her rifle. Even she knows when being stubborn is taking things too far. It doesn't take long before we're at the bottom floor and I look down the hallway we entered from and see the entrance to the news station. Already the Spirit gunships have arrived, and Covenant forces are spilling out.
"Back door." I say, and turn the other direction. We follow the signs toward the fire exit, and I practically slam myself against the door.
Out onto the street I can hear the thrum of Covenant engines.
"Keep moving." Chance whispers, letting go of Wink so that she can run ahead.
I look back at the firedoor. "What about Naomi? Should we wait for her?"
No sooner have I asked the question than I hear a window break above us. Naomi leaps from the opening on the fifth floor and lands with a colossal crunch twenty feet ahead of me. She looks back as though nothing happened and waves for me to hurry up.
"I think she's fine, Ginger." Chance says and pats me on the shoulder as he passes.
"Yeah… Guess so." I admit.