Chapter 34
Central Byzas, Thracia Province, Actium
May 6, 2545
2707
Selene
Selene slowly eased herself to the floor, doing her best not to jar her battered body too much. She was still black and blue from the subway station collapse, and probably would be for the next few weeks or so. With any luck though, it would only be a couple of days before she was out of this city and hopefully off the planet. Then she could be on her way to a refugee camp in some distant star system, where she would be safe.
And warm.
Shivering in the unheated building, Selene wrapped the blanket around her just a bit tighter, trying to trap as much of her body heat as she could. She kind of wished she could light a fire, but unfortunately, a fire would attract the wrong type of attention right now, and that was the last thing she needed. Plus, she didn't have any way of starting or sustaining a fire. No matches or kindling of any kind. But, at least she had this blanket. It still didn't sit right, her taking the blanket from the dead like that, but she couldn't deny she was a tiny bit glad Shin had forced her to do so.
The sound of the floorboards creaking just outside her room caused her to tense up, and she slowly reached into her blanket to grab hold of her sidearm. She kept herself from drawing it though, as she was pretty sure she knew who it was. Sure enough, Shin came strolling into the room, brushing the snow off his shoulders, and Selene allowed herself to relax.
"Well," he quietly declared, "I've done all I can to try and cover up our tracks, but our best bet is still going to be to wait a couple of hours for the snowfall to completely erase them. In the meantime, we should try and take this opportunity to try and get some rest."
"You sure there's no chance of a Covenant patrol stumbling across us?" Selene asked. "I don't know about you, but I'm not really in any condition to be running away from anyone right now."
"Well… if it's a chance you're asking about, there's always a chance someone might accidentally stumble across us," Shin allowed, "but let's be honest here: it's a rather small chance. There are no signs outside that would indicate any humans are taking shelter in here, I made sure of that. And we're taking shelter inside one of the inner rooms, so all this concrete and brick will help mask us from most of the Covenant's sensors. Plus, that thermal blanket of yours will help trap your body heat in, preventing you from being easily spotted on thermal imaging cameras and… whatever."
Selene shivered again as she gripped the blanket even tighter at that thought. Yep, definitely glad Shin had made her take it.
"But what about you?" she asked, nodding her head at Shin's relatively uncovered body. "You don't have a blanket."
"Don't need one," Shin said with a shrug. He gave his sleeve a good tug. "Standard issued UNSC Air Force winter parka. Not only is it waterproof and more importantly, warm, it already comes with a built-in infrared reflector. It's not perfect, but it has a similar effect to that blanket." He looked up and noticed the look of surprise on Selene's face. "How'd you think I was keeping warm this entire time?"
"Honestly, the thought hadn't really occurred to me," she admitted. "I just figured… well, I don't really know what I was thinking. I think I just figured you were really acclimated to the cold weather, which is why you weren't showing any signs of being cold."
"Well, that certainly didn't hurt," Shin vaguely replied before standing back up. "Anyways, I figured, all things considered, we should still probably keep an eye out, at least for the first hour or so, just to make sure we're completely off the grid. Figured that should be easy enough for me to deal with."
"Thanks," Selene said gratefully.
"For what?" Shin replied, looking genuinely confused.
"For giving me a chance to rest…?" Selene prompted.
"Oh… right. Yeah… uh, you're welcome," Shin awkwardly said with a shrug, and Selene did her best to hide her amusement. "Anyways, I'll be out in the hall for a little bit. Call me if you need anything. Only, if you do; try to, you know, keep it as quiet as you can."
"You know I'm not a complete idiot right?"
Shin gave a sheepish grin before heading for the door. Just before he walked out, he suddenly stopped.
"Oh, almost forgot," he declared as he walked back to her. Reaching into his vest, he pulled out a small bundle. "Got us some food. Figured I should go for the perishable stuff first so…" he opened the pack to reveal a couple of loaves of bread. "And of course, bread by itself sucks, so I got us some jam." Shin pulled out a small jar of jam from his pocket. "Hope you like strawberries."
"Even if I didn't, I'm certainly not in a position to complain about it," Selene pointed out as she grabbed the food. "Thank you."
Pulling out a slice from one of the loaves, she looked around for something to use to spread the jam, then paused. "Uh, Shin? I don't suppose you happened to grab like a butter knife or a spoon? You know, something to use to spread the jam?"
Shin cocked his head and looked at her strangely. "Huh. I thought I was forgetting something," he began, but Selene did her best to quickly wave away any potential embarrassment he might have been feeling.
"Don't worry about it. You've certainly done more than your fair share of work today. I'll figure something out," she assured him. "And Shin?"
Shin glanced at her with an expectant look on his face.
"Thank you," Selene emphatically told him. "For everything you've done today. I don't think I would have made it this far without you."
Shin gave a half-shrug. "I'm sure you would have managed," he told her modestly. "But you're welcome. Anyways, try and get some sleep. We've got a long day tomorrow."
Selene nodded, and Shin quietly walked out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Selene regarded the bread sitting on the ground in front of her. Despite being in a city that had, at least up until this morning, been rather heavily populated, Selene wasn't sure how many scavenging opportunities they would have in the future, so she wanted to make sure their food lasted up until they got rescued.
Still, with that being said, Selene was starving, so she grabbed a couple of slices, just so she would have something in her stomach. Ignoring the jam for the moment, she practically inhaled the two pieces. Once she was finished eating, Selene hurriedly wrapped up the rest of the loaves, both to save some for Shin and the road ahead, as well as to make sure she didn't go crazy and eat any more than she needed to.
With that task completed, Selene re-wrapped herself in her blanket and leaned her head against the back wall. Between her injuries and the general stress of the day, it didn't take her long to nod off. Just as her eyes closed and her breathing evened out, she noticed Shin quietly walking back into the room.
And just as the last vestiges of consciousness left her –
- she happened to catch sight of the smirk that appeared on his face as he stared at her.
XXXXX
O'Neill Air Force Base, Actium
May 6, 2545
2938
Zelda
"Omega-6, you're cleared to land on runway three."
Zelda keyed his microphone(1).
"Copy that Control Tower," he tiredly said. "Runway three. Omega-6, out."
Without another word, Zelda switched off his radio. Banking to the left, he steadily increased his speed until he was in line with the runway before pulling back on the throttle. As he made his approach, he made sure to lower his landing gear and extend all flaps to try and slow his speed even further. It wasn't easy to see the runway; obviously, in the middle of an invasion, the last thing the airbase wanted to do was light up their own position. So, in an effort to avoid giving away their own position, all of the runway lights had been extinguished, forcing Zelda to fly entirely by his sensors. It was alright though; Zelda was a professional pilot and despite how tired he was, he had landed his Broadsword safely many a time in similar conditions in the past, so he wasn't worried.
Watching on his HUD as he got lower and lower to the ground, Zelda began rounding out to increase his angle of descent while at the same time, pulling back on the throttle. At this point, he was maybe only a few meters off the ground, so he began to round out and mentally brace himself for touchdown, which happened just a few seconds later. His Broadsword shook and violently rattled as his landing gear finally made contact with the concrete runway, and Zelda hurriedly pulled back on the throttle and applied his brakes as he rocketed down the tarmac.
By the time Zelda had reached the end of the runway, his speed had been reduced to a crawl. A highlighted route instantly appeared on his HUD, directing him back to his hangar. As soon as it appeared, he began driving along the route, trying to get out of the way for the next Broadsword landing at that very moment.
Rolling past the various individual fighter hangars, Zelda tried not to stare at all the ones that he kenw would remain empty for tonight. Their losses had been… well, he didn't know how many pilots they had lost today, but he knew it was a lot. The loss of one pilot was always a tragedy but after today, it was practically a catastrophe. And this was just day one of the invasion. It would only get worse in the days to come.
Driving slightly passed his assigned hangar and coming to a complete stop, Zelda waited until the aircraft marshaller had gotten into position and began directing Zelda to back up. Focusing solely on the marshaller's instructions, Zelda backed his Broadsword up until the hangar walls had engulfed his fighter. It wasn't until the marshaller indicated for him to stop, and his fighter was secured, did Zelda reach out and power down his plane. The steady whine of his engines that had been filling his ears with background noise all day abruptly disappeared, leaving Zelda with a sense of emptiness.
Unhooking his oxygen and ripping off his helmet before he could suffocate, Zelda sat in his cockpit for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Outside, the ground crew were already swarming all over his fighter, trying to get some maintenance in before the fighting resumed tomorrow morning. But before they could do anything serious, they were going to need Zelda to get out so, with a reluctant sigh, Zelda punched the button that would open his canopy and unbuckled himself from his seat. Outside, he could hear his ladder extending. As it did, he reached out and tried to pull himself out from his cockpit, only to find that he couldn't move: his legs and lower back were too stiff.
Groaning, Zelda gave his thighs a good whack, trying to get the blood flowing again. How long had he been sitting in this cockpit? He couldn't even remember. He shot a glance at his mission run timer, hoping to find the reason behind his poor health.
…Holy fucking shit. He'd been up in the air for a little over twenty-four hours. No wonder he was so fucking stiff. That could not be healthy, sitting on his ass for that long of a time. Zelda had to admit, he had never done that in training.
With a loud, pain-filled grunt, Zelda forced himself to get up. Grateful for all the dips he had done while working out in the gym, Zelda planted his hands on either side of his cockpit and pushed himself up and out of his seat, allowing gravity to force his legs downwards and opening up his blood flow. Very awkwardly, he managed to get one leg out of the cockpit and onto the ladder, followed by his other leg. Then he slowly began making his way to the ground.
Somehow Zelda managed to accomplish the feat without stumbling or falling off the ladder. Once his feet were secure on the ground, Zelda tried to do some mini hops, to fully restore the blood flow to the rest of his limbs, but damn if it didn't feel like he was wearing boots made out of concrete right now.
Giving it up as a bad job, Zelda did his best to drag himself over to the door that would lead back to his squadron's briefing room.
"Lieutenant, sir?"
Zelda didn't even bother trying to hide the irritated look on his face as he looked up at the security forces officer standing guard by the door. The guard didn't look perturbed though.
"Your sidearm, sir," the guard said, pointing at the pistol Zelda had strapped in a shoulder holster.
Zelda stared at the man incomprehensively, before the guard pointed at a weapon unloading station sitting nearby. Zelda couldn't help but scoff. Loaded weapons were not allowed on base outside of the hangar and runway area; but he would have thought that in the middle of an alien invasion, that rule would have been suspended. Apparently it hadn't been. Fucking Air Force.
Pulling out his sidearm, Zelda stuck the barrel into the cylinder tube that made up the unloading station, ejected the magazine and racked the slide to eject the round within the chamber. Once that was done, he dry fired his pistol to make sure it was actually cleared, before sticking both the magazine and his now empty sidearm back in their respective holsters. He didn't bother trying to recover the round he had ejected from the chamber as he was pretty sure if he tried to bend over, he would fall over and not be able to get back up.
Once that was done, the guard finally allowed him onto the base, and Zelda limped over to his squadron's ready room, where what remained of his squadron was gathering.
The room felt strangely large, both because at this point Zelda had gotten used to the confined space of his cockpit, and because there was hardly anyone left. Half the squadron had gone down today, leaving the rest trying to figure out what to do and how to feel. No one said anything, as everyone was simply too tired, both physically and mentally, to try and decide what to say.
Zelda looked up as Bellum stumbled into the room. She looked about as bad as Zelda felt, if not worse. Even in the dim light, he could see her eyes were bloodshot, as if she had been crying. But when she spoke, her voice was as strong as ever.
"Good flying today," was all she said. "We've been pulled off flight status for the moment. Unfortunately, we can't leave the area, but we're going to have some food and water delivered to us, so try and relax. Don't worry about anything, we'll figure it all out tomorrow. Tonight, just… try and unwind."
Zelda nodded in acknowledgement, too tired to try and do anything else.
wwwweeeeeeerrrrrrrrnnnnNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!
Zelda looked up sharply at the sound of the air raid siren going off, followed by the thumping of anti-aircraft artillery. Over the chaos of explosions, he could hear the whine of Covenant anti-gravity engines, as well as the familiar static of plasma weapons discharging. With a weary sigh, Zelda reluctantly climbed to his feet, but Bellum was quick to stop him.
"Don't worry about that people!" she sharply said. "That's not our problem. Base has got its own anti-air defenses, and there are other squadrons to deal with that crap. Settle down. Stay indoors though; these buildings are reinforced and unless we take a direct hit, we should be fine from any airstrikes. Just… try and get some sleep."
"If you can," she added as there was a particularly vicious explosion from outside.
Zelda nodded. Without saying a word, he got up and walked to the nearest corner of the room to stake out a spot, and threw himself on the ground. Exhaustion almost immediately overtook him, and he felt his eyes closing.
He fell asleep to the sound of the pitched air battle raging only a couple hundred meters away.
XXXXX
Staging Area, Outskirts of Newington, Actium
May 6, 2545
3129
Tariq
"Okay driver, and... halt!"
Tariq lurched forward as Lillian jerked to a halt. Without a word, Tariq watched as Corona reached out and switched the ignition off, killing the tank. For a long moment, all occupants of the vehicle just sat there, enjoying the silence.
The silence was broken when Noble finally reached up and unbuckled her harness. Popping open the hatch above her, she climbed up and disappeared outside. After a few moments, Tariq decided to join her. Unbuckling his own harness, he made sure to grab his SMG, before shimmying out of his seat and climbing out of the hatch. Noble was already gone. Where to, Tariq had no idea; truth be told, he didn't really care either
Upon emerging, the first thing Tariq did was pull out a cigarette and light it. Taking a deep drag, Tariq held his breath, letting the cigarette smoke swirl around in his lungs in an attempt to warm up his core before slowly exhaling. He did this a couple more times as he watched the rest of the battalion come trickling in.
With the entirety of the 7th Cavalry Division now officially online, and with the vanguard of the 80th Rifle Division coming in, 2nd Brigade of the UNSC Army's 53rd Armored Division had officially been relieved for the night and moved into the Corps' reserve. It had been one hell of a long day, and Tariq was looking forward to getting some actual rest.
There was a mute clang as Corona popped open his hatch and decided to join the rest of the crew outside. Climbing out, Tariq watched as he started stretching, before glancing up at Tariq.
"God. I was starting to feel like I was glued to that seat," he noted.
Tariq shrugged, but didn't say anything. What was there to even say?
Even in the dim light, Tariq could see Corona looked somewhat disappointed, but he rallied quickly. Climbing up to the top of the tank, much to Tariq's annoyance, Corona popped down on the turret right next to him, either not noticing or not caring about the patch of snow he had just plopped down on. Tariq briefly considered moving, but then decided he was too tired to bother. He waited for Corona to say something.
"Think I could bum a cigarette from you?" Corona abruptly asked.
Tariq couldn't help but give Corona an odd look even as he extracted a cigarette from his pack and handed it over to him.
"Didn't know you smoked," he couldn't help but comment.
"I do. But only on rare occasions. And usually not cigarettes. I'm a cigar guy. It's the taste, you see," Corona explained. "Can't stand the taste of cigarettes. Unfortunately, I didn't bring any cigars with me 'cause I figured we were just going out on a field exercise. Didn't expect to actually fight off a full-fledged Covenant invasion."
"Thanks," he added as Tariq pulled out a lighter and helped light Corona's cigarette.
"Well, that's the problem, ain't it?" Tariq noted as he stashed his stuff away. "No one expects a Covenant invasion because even this late in the war, we still can't predict when or where an invasion will occur. So we never have any time to prepare. Just gotta make do with what we've got."
Corona bobbed his head and fell silent. For a moment, the two of them just sat there, letting their cigarettes burn down as they enjoyed the silence.
Finally, Corona spoke up.
"Man, I am going to sleep like a baby tonight," he said with a groan as he stretched his arms. Tariq let out a humorless chuckle.
"Sleep? What's that?"
Corona started to laugh, but then quickly stopped upon noticing the serious expression on Tariq's face. "You serious? We just got pulled off the line. I thought that meant we would be able to get some rest."
Tariq let out a derisive snort. "Yeah. 'Rest.' Sure, we'll get some rest alright. After we finish getting Lillian ready and prepared for the fight tomorrow."
"What?" Tariq added upon noticing the surprised expression on Corona's face. "You thought just because we managed to hold back the Covenant today, somehow the Covies were just going to throw in the flag? Admit defeat? Withdraw?"
"No, of course not," Corona hastily said. "I just..."
He trailed off as Tariq shook his head.
"Covies ain't done with this world yet kid. They got a taste of what sort of resistance we can offer. Probed our defenses. Measured our response times. And sapped a lot of our strength today. That way, when they come back tomorrow, they'll have a much better idea of what to expect. You see, that's what the Covenant do. Once the Covies smell blood in the water, they will not relent. They will attack, and continue attacking until either they're all dead, or all opposition has been subdued. The real question here is: can we provide the same measure of resistance we did today, tomorrow? And the only way to answer that, is to make sure all equipment, especially our vehicles, are in tiptop shape, ready for another dozen rounds. And we don't rest until that happens. Got it?"
Corona mutely nodded.
"Good. And don't ever forget that," Tariq insisted as he looked up in time to see Noble returning.
"I'm arranging for more fuel and ammo to be delivered to this area for us," Noble immediately reported without preamble. "When it arrives, make sure we're stocked up and topped off and ready for the tomorrow, Sergeant."
Tariq nodded.
"I've also got the platoon commanders and all tank commanders creating a list of replacement parts they're going to need to bring their vehicles back up to speed," Noble continued. "I want a similar list from you and Private Corona in my hands in the next twenty minutes. I don't care what it is: whether it be new tracks, barrels for a coax, or even an entirely new transmission, put it on the list. Just... let me know which items are critical. Got it?"
"Yes, First Sergeant," Tariq warily replied. Noble nodded in approval.
"Also: let's get whatever maintenance that can be done on this vehicle. As I'm sure Sergeant Helmand can testify, within the next few coming days, we're going to have less and less opportunities to conduct preventive maintenance. So, whatever can be done tonight, do it. Mechanics will be here, in and out, to help out."
Noble trailed off and looked around, as if she was trying to figure out if she had forgotten anything. Evidently she hadn't as she finally said, "Any questions?"
"No, First Sergeant," Corona immediately replied, but Tariq actually did have a question, so he raised his hand.
"Sergeant Helmand?"
"First Sergeant," Tariq began, "do we have any word on how the rest of our division has fared in this fight in terms of casualties? Especially those brigades that had been stationed north of the Covenant drop zone."
"You have friends in those brigades?" Noble gently asked and Tariq nodded. Noble sighed.
"Unfortunately, all communications with divisional headquarters was officially severed four hours ago, Sergeant," Noble answered. "2nd Brigade has been reporting directly to XIV Armored Corps HQ the last few hours so unfortunately, no, I have no idea how the rest of the division is faring."
"However," she added, "give me about an hour and I can probably get you an up-to-date casualty list if that will work for you."
Tariq shrugged, then nodded. Probably the best he could hope for honestly.
"Anyway, I got to make some calls," Noble finished. "I'll be back in twenty minutes to get that list. So get it done you two."
"You can depend on us, First Sergeant," Corona tiredly replied.
Noble nodded, and then turned around and walked away.
Tariq watched her go for a moment, taking one last drag from his cigarette, before flicking the butt away.
"Well, no sense in standing on ceremony," Tariq declared.
"Let's get this shit done."
XXXXX
Camp Hoxha, Actium
May 6, 2545
3309
Marcus
The HEMTT abruptly lurched, causing Marcus to jerk awake. He automatically grabbed his rifle and began looking around for the cause, only to see Dresden lifting a hand in a placating gesture.
"Take it easy Marcus," he said from his spot in the driver's seat. "It was just a small crater in the middle of the road. That's all."
Marcus nodded his head in acknowledgement and lowered his rifle, but he couldn't quite force himself to relax. Between all the contested supply runs this morning, the sporadic artillery strikes and the randomized air raids, Marcus found he was wound pretty tightly. He was honestly surprised he had fallen asleep like that, a possibility he attributed to the fact that he was completely and utterly wiped.
Their last mission had been to deliver a bunch of artillery shells to an artillery unit from the 7th Cav that had recently arrived, upon which, word came down they were to return to base to shut down for the night. Marcus and his team had needed no further prompting and upon piling into their HEMTT, Dresden had taken one look at Marcus before declaring he was going to drive. With no energy to protest, Marcus had willingly ceded the driver's seat, swapping places with Dresden.
Pulling out from the artillery yard, they joined a convoy of vehicles, all traveling in the same direction for safety reasons, and that was probably about the time Marcus had passed out as he couldn't remember anything after that.
"Tired Marcus?" Dresden asked as Marcus let out a large yawn.
"Yes, sir," Marcus mumbled. "I don't think I've ever worked as hard in my life before as I did today. I've got muscles that are sore that I didn't even realize were muscles."
Dresden let out an appreciative chuckle. "Yeah. Well, when we get back to base, see if you can't take a hot bath or something. Relax some of those muscles and get the blood flowing once more."
"Fuck a bath man," Orlović suddenly said from the back of the cab where he was awkwardly sprawled out on a bunch of empty ammo cans. "As soon as we get back to base, I'm going straight to bed. Not even going to take off my clothes or nothing."
Dresden frowned. "Well, if you want to sleep right away, that's fine, just make sure you switch into a clean pair of clothes first. Our uniforms are soaked; last thing you want is to accidentally get hypothermia."
Marcus had to admit, getting sick didn't sound too bad to him. Then again, he supposed the Army wasn't exactly like high school: he didn't get sick days. And if he had to be running around doing the same stuff he had done today, then he would rather not be sick.
"Also want to make sure you get some food and water in your system," Dresden was saying. "At least something more substantial than energy drinks."
"Man, you're starting to sound like my mother," Orlović grumbled good-naturally. "'You gotta eat dinner Billy! Can't survive on a diet of energy drinks and coffee!'"
"Well, she's not wrong. Plus, she's not here so, for all intents and purposes, I am your mother," Dresden replied with a grin.
Upon mentioned of people's mothers, Marcus abruptly thought of his own, along with the rest of his family living in Astoria; on the other side of the Euxine Ocean. He was a bit ashamed to admit that he hadn't really thought much, if at all, about them. Though, in his defense, he was very distracted throughout the day. But still. His parents were probably worried sick about him as they undoubtedly must have realized that the Covenant had set foot not too far from where his first duty station had been. His dad was no doubt sitting in his favorite leather chair in the living room, eyes glued on the TV, watching every update the news stations were giving about the progress of the invasion; while his mother was probably running around the house, cleaning and baking; as she always did whenever she got agitated.
Thinking of his parents suddenly made Marcus very homesick, and he resolved that the moment they got back to base, he was running upstairs to his dorm room and digging out his phone so he could give his parents a call. Assuming they hadn't been evacuated off the planet yet. And assuming the phone network was even working, of course.
"Well, here we are gentlemen," Dresden declared as he pulled into the base. "Home sweet home."
Marcus couldn't help but let out a silent cheer as they pulled through the base gates. Camp Hoxha. Somehow looking no worse for wear despite everything that had happened today.
He waited silently as Dresden drove across the base before pulling to a stop in front of a series of brick buildings.
"First stop: the dorm rooms," Dresden declared as he threw the HEMTT into park. "Make sure you guys gather up all your things: management is not responsible for any lost items."
Marcus let out an appreciative chuckle as he hopped out of the cab, holding the door open so that Orlović could exit. Just before shutting the door though, Dresden caught his attention.
"Marcus, you remember where we're going?"
Marcus looked around but unfortunately, this many hours later, he couldn't distinguish up from down. He shook his head.
"Well, you're sharing a dorm room with Orlović, so follow him," Dresden ordered. "He knows where he's going."
"Wait, you're my new roommate?" Orlović suddenly demanded.
Startled, all Marcus could do was nod.
"Damn," Orlović swore. "I was enjoying having the entire room to myself. Knew it was too good to last. Fuck. Well, whatever. Come on dude, I'll show you the way."
Cautiously nodding, Marcus grabbed his rifle, and started to follow in Orlović's wake, then stopped when he realized Dresden wasn't following.
"Wait," he said. "Sarge? Aren't you coming?"
"Well, first off, I don't live on base with the rest of you kids. See, I'm a grown-up and I live in a grown-up place," Dresden proudly declared, though Marcus could pick up the hint of sarcasm in Dresden's voice. "And secondly, I can't rest yet. I got to get this thing ready for tomorrow morning."
Marcus stared at him, incredulously. "What exactly needs to be worked on, sir?"
"Well, for one thing, the tires on the driver's side need to be replaced," Dresden reminded him. "They don't replace themselves you know. Plus, there's some preventative maintenance crap I'd like to get done before turning in tonight."
"You going to need our help, Theo?" Orlović asked from behind Marcus.
Dresden waved his hand dismissively. "Nah. Worse comes to worst, there should be a bunch of mechanics working late. I'll get them to help out."
Marcus and Orlović exchanged a look before they both simultaneously sighed. Marcus slung his rifle over his shoulder before starting to mount the bottom step to the cab.
"What are you guys doing?"
"We're coming with," Orlović tiredly replied.
"No you're not."
"Yes, we are," Marcus reluctantly replied. "Not going to be able to do all this by yourself."
Dresden quickly shook his head. "Seriously guys, I'm fine. You two need some sleep though."
"So do you, sir," Marcus pointed out.
"Not really. Guys, I've done this before. This ain't my first Covenant invasion you know," Dresden drily informed them. "I know what I'm doing. I'll be fine. I can handle all this by myself, but I can't do the rest of my job if you two are about ready to collapse. So, go get some sleep. Both of you. Don't make me order you guys."
Marcus hesitated at the sincerity in Dresden's voice. There was no denying: Marcus was really tired and the last thing he wanted to do was more work. At the same time though, he couldn't help but feel guilty.
"You sure, sir?" he finally said.
"Absolutely."
"Well... okay then," Orlović finally replied. "But the moment you need something, you call us right away, got it?"
Dresden looked amused. "Will do Billy."
Orlović nodded.
"Okay then," Orlović repeated. "Guess we'll see you in a couple hours, huh?"
"Yep. Night guys."
With that, Dresden shut the door and drove back in the direction of the motor pool. Marcus watched him leave for a moment, before Orlović slapped him on his shoulder.
"He'll be fine," he declared. "Come on; I'll show you the room."
Marcus silently plodded in Orlović's wake as he led them inside the building, up the stairs, and into the room that had been assigned to them. It was almost identical to the way Marcus had left it nearly a day ago. His duffle bag was still sitting on top of an unmade bed with a pile of linen lying right next to it. It almost seemed like a lifetime ago when Dresden was first showing him the room.
"Bathroom and showers are down the hall," Orlović announced. "Left, outside the door. I doubt the mess hall is open, but I got some crackers and shit for when I get hungry at night. You can have some."
Marcus grunted his thanks. Now that he was in such close proximity to a bed, it was taking everything he had to stay on his feet.
"Going to hit the head," Orlović announced. "Try not to make a mess, okay?"
Without another word, he left the room, leaving Marcus alone.
Without really thinking, Marcus stumbled to his assigned bed, intent on at least laying out the sheets. As soon as he sat down, however, he found his eyelids were all but impossible to keep open.
Rather than try to fight the feeling, Marcus went ahead and allowed the sweet embrace of sleep to envelop him. And as it did, he did his best to avoid dreaming about all the horrors he had seen -
- and all the horrors he had yet to see.
XXXXX
Northern Byzas, Thracia Province, Actium
May 6, 2545
3512
Adel
Carefully, as to not make too much noise, Adel slowly unwrapped his MRE and took a bite. Chewing, he suddenly frowned.
"What the hell…?" he muttered. "This shit taste like chicken."
"So… what's the problem?" X asked from beside him.
"It's supposed to be mac and cheese…"
He could hear X snorting. "Well, that's just typical."
There was a long stretch of silence and then –
"Wait, are you still eating that?"
Adel paused mid-bite. "Am… am I not supposed to?" he sheepishly asked.
Even through his night vision goggles, Adel could see X staring at him with an incredulous expression on his face.
"Well… I personally wouldn't have," X admitted. "Generally, if I eat something that doesn't taste like what it says it's supposed to be, I figure it's got to be for one of two reasons: it was labelled incorrectly… or it's gone really really bad. And… I don't know about you, but… this is probably the last place I would want to get the runs. So… yeah…?"
Feeling slightly sick now, Adel carefully leaned out of their hole and spat out whatever food was in his mouth before tossing the MRE away.
"That's… a good point," Adel admitted. "Well. Shit."
"Try drinking a lot of water," X suggested. "Might help flush out whatever's already in your system. Not saying whatever you were eating was bad, just… well, I wouldn't have risked it."
Feeling extremely foolish now, Adel nevertheless did what he was told. Grabbing the straw to his hydration pack, he began to quickly suck down as much water as he could. For a moment, there was nothing but silence.
"Brass!"
"Dragon!" Adel immediately hissed back. He turned around as Sam quietly slide into the hole beside them.
"Got ammo and rockets," he reported, and Adel quickly grabbed the rockets and stashed them to the side. "How's it going out here?"
"It's all quiet on the western front Corporal," X reported. Sam grunted.
"Good."
Adel looked up, confused. "I thought we were on the northern front?"
He could hear both X and Sam sighing.
"Dude… just stop," he heard X say, sounding highly exasperated.
"What?" Adel retorted, feeling slightly defensive. "We are, aren't we?"
"And he wonders why everyone thinks all Marines are dumb fucks," Sam muttered.
"Fuck you guys," Adel retorted, though without any real heat. "Seriously. I don't get it."
He could see Sam shaking his head. "We'll tell you when you're older."
Adel was just about to retort, when he noticed a single dot appearing on his IFF tracker slowly approaching their position, only instead of coming from behind, it was coming from directly in front of them.
Adel frowned. He knew Command had sent out a couple of reconnaissance patrols a bit earlier to see if they could get some intel on the Covenant defensive positions, but if they were coming back already, there should have been more than one of them, plus, they would have radioed ahead. He glanced at Sam and X, to see if they had noticed, only to see they were already reaching for their weapons. He quickly followed suit, grabbing his rifle and levelling it.
"You guys ready?" Sam whispered, and Adel slowly nodded. "Hang on." He cleared his throat.
"Brass!" Sam called out in a loud whisper. For a moment, there was no noise, and Adel felt himself tensing up. "Brass!"
"Knuckle!" someone called back in a surprisingly human-sounding voice.
Adel promptly pulled the trigger.
BANGBANGBANG!
The gunshots echoed down the street, shattering the silence that had fallen upon the area like an explosion. For a moment, there was no response. Then –
FWOOZFWOOZFWOOZ!
Green plasma bolts lanced out from the darkness, splashing against the road in front of Adel's hole and causing him to flinch. Without waiting for the barrage to end, he laid into the trigger, emptying his magazine in the direction most of the fire was coming from.
"CONTACT! All call signs, this is OP three, be advised, we have been engaged!" Adel heard Sam screaming into the radio to be heard over the increasing sound of gunshots and plasma fire. "Flare! X, give me a flare!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Adel could see X tossing his rifle to the ground and hurriedly pulling out a pen flare. Angling it upwards, he fired, sending a flare flying straight into the air. Almost immediately, the area was flooded with infrared light that could only be seen through night vision devices. Looking downrange, Adel spotted a small patrol of Covenant soldiers, consisting of probably four or five Grunts and at least two Skirmishers. They were trying to cut their way through the concertina wire the engineers had laid out earlier this evening for this very reason.
"COVIES IN THE WIRE!" Adel bellowed.
"Hit 'em with a rocket!"
Adel hastily abandoned his rifle and made his way to X's side as X planted the Jackhammer onto his shoulder. The rocket launcher was already loaded and ready for action, so all Adel had to do was check to make sure the backblast area was all cleared.
"Backblast area all secured!"
"ROCKET!"
Adel flinched as the rocket launcher was fired, and he looked over his shoulder in time to see the rocket exploding in the midst of the entire Covenant patrol, knocking them all to the ground and causing them to disappear behind a cloud of dust and smoke. At once, all gunfire ceased.
"Cease fire!" Sam yelled, probably out of habit as no one was firing any longer.
Abandoning the Jackhammer, Adel grabbed his rifle and levelled it downrange, searching for more movement. Unfortunately, the flare chose that very moment to burn out, causing darkness to settle over the area once more.
"Did we get them all?" Adel couldn't help but ask. He hastily switched his goggles over to the thermal setting, but the area where the Covenant were lying was awash with heat from the rocket explosion, making it extremely difficult to make out individual figures.
Before anyone could response –
"Brass!"
"Dragon!" Sam hissed, and Adel reflexively turned around to see Reynolds, with two more Marines in tow, running towards them.
"Y'all alright? What happened?" Reynolds demanded to know in a low whisper.
"Covie reconnaissance patrol in the wire, Staff Sergeant," Sam explained. "I think we got them all though."
Movement out of the corner of Adel's eye caught his attention, and he whirled around to see something moving downrange. He reflexively fired a couple of shots, and he looked a bit closer to see the figure of a Covenant Skirmisher, possibly the leader of the patrol, collapsing to the ground.
"Now we got them all," Adel reported.
"Good shot Private," Reynolds complimented. "And good work y'all. Keep your eyes open, and don't be leaving yer holes tonight. Looks like y'all got a handle on things, so I'm gonna report back to the Skipper."
"Aye aye, Staff Sergeant," Sam said.
"You two, let's go," Reynolds barked, looking at the two other Marines with him, and the three of them quickly bounded back in the direction of the CP; leaving Adel and the others sitting there, shaking from the adrenaline.
"Holy shit," Adel muttered as he reloaded.
"No kidding," X replied.
For a few moments, there was nothing but silence, aside from a slight tapping noise as Adel drummed his fingers against his rifle, doing his best to try and calm down. Then –
"Hey Savaschi."
"What?" Adel said, glancing in Sam's direction.
"I think that was your first kill man," Sam told him.
"Was it?" Adel mentally reviewed everything that had happened to him that day and concluded Sam was right. "Huh. I guess you're right."
"Good work Marine."
Adel bobbed his head in agreement. His first kill. He'd been looking forward to this moment since his first day in boot camp. Hell, maybe even before that, when he was but a little kid.
But now that the moment was here, Adel found he could take no joy in. No pleasure. For years, he thought he would have been super excited about obtaining his first kill but now? All he felt was a sense of emptiness. Regret, almost. And he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
He spent the rest of the night doing his best to keep his eye on the line while pondering that very question.
XXXXX
Heliopolis Station, High Orbit, Actium
May 7, 2545
0001
Spaatz
Spaatz stood in front of the viewport on the observation deck, with his hands clasped behind his back. Technically, his presence here on the Heliopolis' observation deck in the midst of a Covenant invasion was a direct violation of severalUNSC Navy protocols. After all, it was the most vulnerable place on the entire station.
Spaatz didn't care. He needed to see it.
The planet.
Actium.
He needed to see it with his own eyes, and not through a view screen. He needed to see what he had done.
And think.
About how he was going to save it.
As per protocol, all artificial lights on the surface of the planet had been turned off. Not that the darkness was capable of fooling the Covenant sensors, but, every little bit helped. As a result, the entire surface of the colony of Actium was completely dark.
Except for one single spot.
The city of Byzas. And the site of the Covenant beachhead.
"Sir."
Spaatz didn't so much as twitch at the sound of Kanin's voice from behind him, but Kanin knew he was listening nonetheless.
"Sir, according to sensors, all Covenant activity has ceased for the moment," Kanin announced. "All Covenant offensive activity has been temporarily halted. It would appear, sir, that the Covenant are assuming defensive positions."
Spaatz cleared his throat. "And what of the Spartans?"
"The surviving member of Spartan Team Argon has been safely transported out of the system. As per the Cole Protocol, the UNSC Sonata will make over a dozen randomized slipstream jumps before arriving on Reach."
"And the surviving soldier from Volkov's Airborne detachment?"
"Sergeant Moss Shen is currently in a coma, sir. According to the medical team, they are unable to estimate at what point, if ever, he will reawaken."
Spaatz sighed and rubbed his face. "So we still don't know what happened to the remaining members of Argon Team? Or the fate of Major Volkov and the rest of his detachment?"
"…No, sir. However, Captain Rogers and the rest of his company of Rangers are still searching for clues."
"Call it off."
"Sir?"
"Recall those soldiers. At this point, the Covenant would have had spent as much time as we have searching for those Spartans. If they had found something, we would have heard about it by now. And if neither party can find anything, then we can conclude that it is because there is simply nothing left to find."
Kanin was silent for a moment.
"For the record, sir, I don't believe Admiral Parangosky would approve," he finally said.
"I don't give a damn what Admiral Parangosky would approve of or not approve of," Spaatz snapped, turning to face Kanin. "I'min charge of the defense of this system, and if she doesn't like that, then she can come here and relieve me herself. And until that moment happens, I'm not wasting any more of my troops on a fruitless search. Is that clear?"
"Sir. Yes, sir."
"Good." Spaatz turned back to the viewport. In its reflection, he could see Kanin's avatar had yet to disappear. "Was there something else?"
"Just one more thing, sir. SIGINT has picked up a tightly concentrated communication's signal originating from the Covenant invasion force's flagship. It appears to be directed somewhere outside of the system. We're not capable of tracking its destination. The message is, however, heavily, heavily encrypted. ONI's preliminary analysis suggests that it will take, at the very minimum, a decade of non-stop calculations and analysis before we're capable of cracking the code."
"We don't need to crack the code: I know exactly what it says."
"Sir?"
"It's a request," Spaatz explained. "For reinforcements. The Covenant have a foothold. And they will not surrender it easily. We need to drive them out. Now. While the balance of power still remains stacked in our direction." Spaatz let out another sigh before fully turning around. "Call a briefing. All general officers and their staff from all Commands. Do it, and do it now Kanin."
"Sir…" Kanin slowly began, "with all due respect, you need some sleep. You've been on your feet since before the invasion began, and you've had nothing for sustenance besides coffee. At this point, sir, and to be blunt, you're running at less than optimal efficiency. And should you fall due to poor health, sir, the disruption to the chain of command could prove to be… catastrophic."
Spaatz took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Kanin was right. As any rescue worker knew, they had to ensure they were capable of saving themselves before they tried to save anyone else.
"Fine," he finally said. "Schedule the briefing for zero three hundred hours. No later. The sooner we can go on the offensive, the better; because tomorrow…"
Spaatz glanced over his shoulder at Actium once more.
"…Tomorrow is going to be another very long day."