A number of readers have requested to see what I had left of this story so as promised, here's the remaining chapters, as well as an outline of how the rest of the story would have gone. Note: I'm thinking about doing a re-write of this story at some point in the future. If that does happen, I'll more than likely follow the events as shown in my outline which, as you might imagine, spoils everything I had planned. If that's something that might bother you, then I would recommend skipping the last chapter.
Chapter 39
Highway 270, Thracia Province
May 7, 2545
0427
Marcus
Marcus' mouth hung open in horror as he stared at Dresden's body, hanging loosely in his seat, held in place by the safety harness. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe.
This was not happening.
"WHERE THE FUCK IS THIS FIRE COMING FROM!? THEO! YOU GOT EYES ON!?"
Marcus could hear Orlović shouting in the background, but to him, it sounded distant and faded, as if Orlović was shouting from very far away. Marcus tried to respond, but found he couldn't move. All he could do was just continue to stare at Dresden's body.
"S…Sarge…?" he heard himself whisper, as if that would somehow magically bring Dresden back to life.
"FUCK! WAS THAT THEM? THEO, WHAT THE FUCK!"
Marcus tried to do something, tried to say something, but he found he just couldn't. His body refused to react. It was as if someone had just hit the pause button on a holovid. All Marcus could do was stare.
"GODDAMN MOTHER – MARCUS, LOOK OUT!"
That caught Marcus' attention and he reflexively looked up –
- only to immediately slam on the brakes to avoid crashing into the HEMTT in front of them, which had abruptly stopped in the middle of the highway for no apparent reason.
"OW, MOTHERFUCKER! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, MARCUS!?"
Marcus struggled to find his voice.
"Or…Or… Or…" Marcus stuttered.
"FUCK! THEO! WHY THE FUCK DID WE STOP!?"
"Orlović!" Marcus finally managed to gasp out.
SMASH!
Something smashed into Marcus' window with enough force to leave a sizable dent. The noise of the outer layer of laminated glass breaking was enough to cause Marcus to nearly jump out of his skin, however at the same time, Orlović suddenly let out a triumphant cry.
"HA! GOT YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"
Brass casings began littering the roof of the cab as Orlović opened up on a spot in the distance just off to the left of the highway. Marcus could see Orlović's tracers bouncing all over the place in the distance, and at first Marcus thought he was shooting at nothing but air –
- until the Covenant started shooting back.
CRACKCRACKTHUNK!
Marcus let out a loud shriek of alarm as a series of multi-colored projectiles began hosing the HEMTT down. He could hear a loud thunk noise reverberated through the cabin every time the vehicle was struck, and Marcus quickly found himself trying to hide under his steering wheel as he did his best to try and avoid getting hit. He could only pray the incoming fire wasn't enough to set off all the explosives they were carrying in the back.
"COME ON YOU FUCKS! COME AND GET SOME!"
Marcus could hear Orlović screaming at the top of his lungs, even as he hurriedly moved to reload his machine gun. Hearing how ferociously Orlović was fighting back, Marcus couldn't help feel a growing sense of shame at his own cowardice: he shouldn't be here, cowering under his steering wheel, he should be helping Orlović fighting off the Covenant attack.
At the same time, without Dresden, what was even the point? Dresden was clearly the only one who knew what to do around here, and with him… gone, how could Marcus hope to survive even the next few minutes? No, he couldn't do this!
Without warning, Marcus suddenly felt a surge of anger directed at everything: fucking Dresden for getting himself shot and leaving Marcus in this predicament. Fucking Army and the Actium Government for ruining his life's plans and putting him in this fucking position. Fucking Covenant for ruining everything and for fucking shooting at him!
But most importantly, Marcus felt a surge of anger at himself: fucking… why the fuck did he have to be such a fucking coward.
With an inhuman snarl of anger, Marcus found himself grabbing his rifle and removing the safety. Because of the damage, his window would no longer open, so Marcus shoved his door open, pointed his rifle in the direction Orlović was shooting at, and let it rip.
"GAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Marcus found himself screaming at the top of his lungs as he simply held down on the trigger and unleashed his fury downrange. Fuck this place. Fuck everyone here too. But especially, fuck the Covenant!
"God dammit!"
His rifle let out a shriek of alarm to let him know he was out of ammo, and Marcus hurriedly moved to reload. Ejecting his empty magazine, he awkwardly shoved a fresh one in and as he did, he felt a drop of water land on his wrist. Reaching up, Marcus was startled to find tears were streaming down his face, and that realization only served to further fuel both his shame, and his anger.
"FUCK YOU!" he screamed at the top of his lungs as he emptied his magazine downrange once more.
"THEO, MARCUS: WHAT THE FUCK!? WHY THE FUCK AIN'T WE MOVIN'?"
Orlović's shout abruptly cut through Marcus' anger-induced battle haze, and he quickly lowered his rifle.
"Orlović! Dresden is…" Marcus hesitated. He couldn't say Dresden was dead, he just couldn't. "Theo is down!"
"WHAT!?" Orlović yelled back as he stopped shooting for a moment.
"Theo is down!"
"WHAT?"
"SARGE. IS. DOWN!"
"…WHAT?"
Marcus growled, but before he could yell once more, something slammed into the doorframe right over his head, sending sparks flying in all directions.
"Holy crap!" Marcus yelped. He lifted his rifle, only to find he was out of ammo, so he frantically reloaded and was just about to pull the trigger when –
"What are you guys shooting at?"
Marcus was a bit ashamed to admit, he screamed. Very loudly. Without thinking, he whirled around only to see –
"S… Sarge?" Marcus stuttered, unable to believe his eyes.
Sure enough, Dresden had undone his safety harness and was sitting up, looking at Marcus with a questioning look on his face. Even as he watched, Dresden reached up with a gloved hand, grabbed a hold of the purple crystal needle still sticking out from his helmet, and snapped it off.
Giving it a look of disgust, Dresden casually tossed it past Marcus, and right out through the open door.
"What are you guys engaging?" he asked again, but all Marcus could do was gape at him. So, instead, Dresden reached up and gave the roof a solid punch. "BILLY!"
"YEAH?"
Despite the gunfire, there was no disguising the relief in Orlović's voice.
"What are you shooting at?"
"I GOT EYES ON COVIE POSITIONS, SARGE. OUR TEN O'CLOCK, 'BOUT THREE HUNDRED METERS OUT! THEY LAYIN' THE HATE ON US!"
THUNKTHUNKTHUNK!
Marcus jumped as the HEMTT was raked with fire once more, and he automatically raised his rifle to return fire, but Dresden immediately knocked it away. Startled, Marcus glanced at him, only to see Dresden had pulled out some sort of monocular optic from somewhere, and was pointing it in the direction Orlović had indicated.
"That's not the Covenant," he immediately declared but before Marcus could ask, Dresden grabbed the radio.
"Voodoo 6-1 to all Voodoo 6 victors: cease fire. I say again, cease firing!" he barked. "Orlović! Cease fire!"
"BUT WE ENGAGED!"
"Hold your fire!" Dresden insisted. "All units: cease firing! That's not the Covenant, that's blue on blue fire! I say again: we're shooting at ourselves!"
Marcus head snapped up at that, even as their guns slowly petered off. Yet, despite that, the incoming fire continued to rain down on them. Of course, now that Dresden had mentioned it, all the incoming rounds sounded distinctly like bullets, and not plasma fire.
"SARGE, IF THAT'S BLUE ON BLUE, HOW COME THEY STILL SHOOTING AT US!" Orlović demanded to know, even as bullets continued to skip off the roof of the HEMTT.
"That's 'cause they don't realize it yet!" Dresden yelled back. "Billy, get down so you don't get hit! Marcus: shut the door."
Marcus hurriedly slammed the door shut even as Dresden lifted the radio once more.
"Voodoo 6 to Voodoo 2. Interrogative, what is your POS, over?" he said in a loud but clear voice.
"6, this is 2! We got the Covenant pinned down, but we need backup, now! Break! Voodoo 2 Actual to all Voodoo 2 victors: maintain suppressing fire! We got reinforcements inbound!"
"2, 6: belay that order! Say your POS!"
"Say my what?"
A taping noise filled the air and Marcus looked back to see Dresden irritably tapping the receiver against his temple.
"2, what is your freaking position, over," Dresden replied with obvious strained patience.
"I'm on Highway 270 at milestone twenty-five!"
"No, no you're not. Check your grid again, but you're not even on the right highway. Voodoo 2, you're on Highway 495, and you're shooting at US, over."
There was a long pause as Voodoo 2 seemed to consider what Dresden was saying. Then, without warning, all the incoming fire abruptly stopped.
"Uh, Command, this is Voodoo 2."
Voodoo 2's commander came back onto the radio, only this time, he sounded rather sheepish.
"Uh, earlier reports of Covenant contact on Highway 270 were in error. Covenant contact was made on Highway 495 at milestone one twenty-five. I say again, Highway 495 and milestone one two five, over."
Dresden let out a loud sigh as he lowered the radio.
"Goddamn Colonial Militia," Marcus heard him muttering.
"Are you for real, man?" Orlović let out a groan. "Are you telling me I just burned through three hundred rounds of ammo because fucking 2 didn't even know where the fuck he was? Who the fuck is in charge of that unit?"
"2nd Lieutenant Buttigieg," Dresden distractedly replied as he fiddled around with the radio.
"Who the fuck is that, and where the fuck did that dumbass get his commission?"
"New guy. Was just assigned to the unit last week. As to your other question…" Dresden looked up and Marcus could see he was grinning. "Heard he got his commission through ROTC. At Caedmon University."
There was a notable moment of hesitation from both Marcus and Orlović, as not only was that the university Marcus had been looking to get into before enlisting in the military, it was also the university where Orlović's grandfather was one of the deans.
Marcus couldn't help but glance in Orlović's direction to see how he was reacting, only to see a rather embarrassed look on his face.
"Can't believe a goddamn Bulldog would do us wrong like that," Marcus heard Orlović muttering.
"You guys alright? Did either of you get hit?" Dresden was asking in the meantime.
"Nah, man, we good," Orlović immediately replied and Marcus nodded.
"Okay. Hang tight while I check with the rest of the convoy."
Dresden turned back to the radio and started talking, but Marcus was no longer paying attention as he was still trying to figure out what the heck had just happened. Two friendly units were shooting at each other because somehow, one of them was on the wrong highway? Then how did they see each other? Plus, how were the Covenant involved? Were they involved? And finally and most importantly: how was it Dresden was alive?
Marcus looked up as Dresden lowered the radio.
"Alright, well, from the sounds of it, aside from 6-2 getting disabled by that mine, no one else was injured." Dresden paused. "Honestly, I'm not sure what's worse: the fact that two CM units were shooting at each other for ten minutes and no one realized, or the fact that two CM units were shooting at each other for ten minutes and no one hit anything."
For some reason, Marcus felt his cheeks begin to heat up at that.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"Not your fault, Marcus," Dresden assured him. "These things happen. In the fog of war, people are really jumpy so all it takes is for one person to start shooting. Then everybody joins in and it becomes almost impossible to control."
"At any case," he continued, "they gotta shove 6-2 out of the way, but once they do, we'll be on the move again."
"Good," Orlović grumbled. "I don't like sitting here in the middle of the road like this; feel like a sitting duck. Also: what the hell happened to you? Thought I heard Olsen say you were dead, but…"
He gestured at the very clearly living and breathing Dresden.
"Yeah… about that…" Dresden said lightly, but nevertheless Marcus couldn't help but flinch. "This isn't a knock on you Marcus, but when we get a chance, let's all of us have a quick lesson on how to tell when someone is dead, versus simply knocked out."
Dresden grinned at Marcus, but regardless, Marcus felt his cheeks burning once more.
Dresden cleared his throat.
"Anyways," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Covies are probably still out there, so Orlović: get back on your gun."
Orlović nodded, and promptly disappeared back onto the turret. In the meantime, Marcus turned to face Dresden.
"Hey Sarge?"
"What's on your mind, Marcus?" Dresden said as he fiddled with the radio.
"Can I ask: what…" Marcus paused as he considered how he was going to word his question.
"What happened?" he finally said. Dresden glanced up.
"You mean with the firefight?" Marcus nodded. "Okay, well, its hard to see because it's so dark, but beyond those trees," Dresden pointed out to the left where, just off the highway, there was a small cluster of pine trees, "there's a small forest, maybe hundred, two hundred meters wide, known as the Waldo Provincial Park. Just beyond that though, Highway 495 runs roughly diagonally to Highway 270; they intersect about another fifteen klicks down the road. That's where Voodoo 2 was."
"So, all these vehicles," Dresden continued, "come equipped with IFF tags that are constantly broadcasting. There's a setting in your goggles that will cause the IFF tags to show up on your HUD as Waypoints, but not everyone realizes that; sometimes people turn it on without realizing. When you're nervous or scared, everything starts to look like muzzle flashes. Voodoo 2 probably saw us passing through the area, thought we were the Covenant and opened up. We started taking fire, so we shot back. And then it just sort of spiraled out of control from there."
Marcus took a moment to absorb all that. It was crazy to him, how a simple miscommunication like that could have resulted in a large amount of people getting killed. The good news was, by the sounds of it…
"So… does this mean there weren't any Covenant in the area?" Marcus hopefully asked, but Dresden shook his head.
"No, there was definitely Covenant. That was most definitely a plasma mine that disabled 6-2, and of course…" he gestured at the hole in his helmet.
"Thanks goodness for personal protective armor, huh?" he joked. "At any case, what I'm guessing happened was that the Covies weren't entirely sure which highway we were going to use, so they set an ambush on both. It just so happened that we wereusing both. So, Voodoo 2 got hit, then us, and Covies started attacking all of us cause, you know, that's what they do. But the moment we started shooting at each other, Covies probably bugged out, figuring we'd do their job for them. But, ha! Joke's on them: we're so good, we weren't even able to inflict a single casualty!"
Dresden sort of laughed, but Marcus just shivered.
"So… does that mean the Covenant are still out there?" he anxiously asked.
Dresden shrugged.
"Probably," he allowed. "But it doesn't really matter: Command is sending down a company of armored vehicles to deal with them. In fact, that's probably them right now."
Marcus looked up in time to see three armored vehicles come rolling down the highway in the opposite direction. Even as Marcus watched, they turned off the road and started to head straight for the forest.
"Go get 'em guys!" Dresden urged.
Marcus just shivered.
XXXXX
Newington, Thracia Province, Actium
May 7, 2545
0443
Tariq
"FIRE IN THE HOLE!"
Ducking his head and covering his ears, Tariq waited until the sappers detonated a series of shaped charges, blowing holes into the frozen ground. As the dust settled, Tariq leaned his shovel against his shoulder and tapped his radio.
"Alright, kid," he said, "pull her forward!"
Tariq glanced in the direction where Lillian was sitting idly nearby. Corona was at his station, though Tariq could see his head poking out from the open hatch.
With a loud rumble, Lillian lurched forward, and Tariq watched as the metal edged of the mine plow Lillian had been temporarily fitted with half an hour ago cut into the newly disturbed dirt and begin shoving it away. It wasn't easy; for whatever reason, command wasn't able to get any bulldozers out here, so Tariq and his company were forced to improvise, hence the mine plows. However, mine plows were no substitute for actual bulldozers, and this situation was proving no different. Even with Lillian's immense bulk behind him, Tariq could see Corona struggling to fight his way through the entire patch they were trying to excavate.
A loud grinding noise filled the air as Lillian's tracks slipped and slid along the frozen ground, and Tariq could only hope Corona was smart enough to not try too hard: last thing Tariq needed was for Corona to burn out Lillian's engine before the day had even really begun.
Finally, after several minutes of struggling, Corona was eventually able to make his way through the patch, shoving aside the top third meter of dirt, and forming the rough outline of the hull-down position they were trying to build.
Tariq mutely let out a sigh of relief. Now that they had made it past the frost line, it should be easier from here on out. He tapped his radio.
"Alright, back it up and do that again another two or three times to get the depth we need," Tariq commanded. He could see Corona nodding before he threw the tank into reverse and backed up.
As Corona went about doing his work, Tariq took the moment to take a break from the sandbags he was filling. Removing his helmet, he reached up to wipe at his brow. Despite the cold, with all the physical labor he'd been doing, Tariq had found himself building up quite the sweat.
He hurriedly threw his helmet back on when he heard the sound of someone making their way through the snow towards him, but as Tariq turned around to see who it was, he found himself relaxing when he realized it was only his friend Chenko.
"Someone want to explain the math on this one to me?" Chenko immediately began bitching before Tariq could even so much as lift his hand in greeting. "So, in about an hour's time, we're about to launch the biggest offensive in the entire history of this colony, against the worst enemy humanity has ever faced, right? But rather than doing stuff like, I dunno, getting more ammo or preparing, we're standing around… digging a defensive position?"
Chenko gave Tariq a look of pure incredulity. "Like, what the fuck?"
Tariq rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the air. "Dude, you've been in the Army for almost as long as I have; you know how this shit works. Some officer who thinks he's smarter than he actually is, thinks we enlisted can't be trusted to watch out for ourselves for longer than thirty seconds, so they give us a bunch of bitchwork to try and keep us occupied. It's all the same shit."
"I know," Chenko groaned. "But still; I thought all this bitchwork was for the junior enlisted. Figured things would change once I hit E-5. Guess I was wrong."
"No shit," Tariq snorted as he removed the used up wad of tobacco from his mouth and tossed it aside. Looking around, he decided he was far enough behind the frontlines that it would be safe for him to light up a cigarette. Pulling out a pack, he offered one to Chenko, who gratefully took it.
"Guess we need to make at least E-6 before we can get out of shitty work details like this one," Tariq continued after exhaling, sending a cloud of smoke into the air. "Or maybe even as far as E-8; kinda like First Sergeant Noble."
Chenko let out a small, bitter, laugh.
"Yeah. She always disappears when there's bitchwork to be done," he complained, before looking around. "Where is she anyways?"
"How the fuck should I know? Doing first sergeant shit I guess, I don't know. It's not like she's leashed to me."
Chenko snorted appreciatively and Tariq took the opportunity to pick up his shovel and start digging again. Fucking sandbags. Chenko was right: why the fuck were they digging in when the entire front was about to go on the offensive, Tariq had no idea. Still, he supposed it was better than getting shot at.
Chenko abruptly let out a loud cough, and Tariq looked up to see him still standing there, looking pensive. He rolled his eyes.
"Dude, if you're not fucking doing anything, go grab a pickaxe and help me with this shit, will ya?"
"Fuck you," Chenko immediately replied, though without any real malice. "I got my own shit to deal with."
"If that were even remotely true, then what the hell are you doing bothering me for, motherfucker?" Tariq retorted.
"I came here to bum a cigarette! If I knew you were going to hassle the shit out of me, I wouldn't have fucking bothered!"
"Well, fuck you then!"
"Well, fuck you too!"
The two soldiers glared at each other, daring one another to make a move. Much to his own disappointment, Tariq was the first one to break and crack a smile.
"Goddamn sandbags," was all he said as he drove his shovel into the ground once more and grabbed a scope-full of dirt.
"No shit," Chenko replied as he reached down to hold the bag open.
For the next few moments, the two of them worked in silence, with Chenko holding onto the bags while Tariq filled them.
Realizing his cigarette had burnt out, Tariq paused to flick the butt away, but as he did, he happened to spot Chenko staring at him with an intense look on his face.
"What."
Chenko jumped.
"Nothing," he quickly said. "I was just… hey, I've been meaning to ask: how's she working out? Noble, that is. I mean, as First Sergeant? She is an outsider."
Tariq shrugged.
"Tactically, she's not worth a damn," he said as he picked up his shovel and began to dig once more. "But we always knew that was going to be a thing with her. At least she's pretty on point with the administrative stuff 'cause I don't know shit in regards to that."
"Guess she's no Mahathir," Chenko noted.
"Well... to be fair, you only ever get one Mahathir in a brigade: a First Sergeant who actually knows his shit and isn't a complete asshole. That's why it sucked so much when he was killed," Tariq said.
"It's probably just as well," Chenko mused. "Man was pretty damn empathetic. Guess that's what made him so good. Still, I don't even want to imagine how he would have reacted to what we did - "
Tariq involuntarily twitched, accidently dumping his shovel load of mud onto Chenko's boots instead of the bag. Chenko glanced at his boots, and then at Tariq.
"Dude... you alright?"
"I'm fine," Tariq insisted, "but what the fuck is wrong with you? That's like… you've been bring up that shit a lot in the last few days. Thought we agreed we weren't going to talk about it anymore?"
"Sorry," Chenko softly replied. "Just... hard to put it out of my mind, with everything that's going on right now... plus, you hear Duvall got hit?"
Tariq sighed and put down his shovel.
"I did," he admitted, thinking back to the casualty list he'd been looking at earlier this morning. Their former tank commander, Sergeant Dwayne Duvall, had been listed as wounded in action as of yesterday afternoon. "List didn't say how it happened though."
"Well, both his driver and gunner are listed as KIA," Chenko pointed out. "My guess? His tank got taken out somehow. Point is, with Duvall down, that leaves… what? Us? Lavina? And Shayan? I know Lavina got transferred over to 1st Brigade, but whatever happened to Shayan?"
Tariq sneered.
"If you can figure that out, I think Command's got a cash reward for that information," he pointed out. "Shayan's been AWOL since we rotated back to the world. Pretty sure he deserted."
Chenko shook his head. "Knowing him, he probably drunk himself to death, which is probably why no one can find him. Fuck him, I guess. He was the one that wanted to, more than any of us, to – First Sergeant Noble!"
Tariq jumped and glanced over his shoulder. Hurriedly walking towards them was Noble.
"Sergeant Helmand. Sergeant Chenko," Noble greeted. "Glad both of you are here."
"First Sergeant," Tariq replied with a slight incline of his head. "What's going on, Top?"
"We've got a mission," Noble replied before turning to Chenko. "Sergeant Chenko, go get your 'Dillo crew and Dragoon 2-4 and bring them over to my tank. Leave the tools; someone else will grab them."
Tariq and Chenko exchanged a look then Tariq shrugged.
"Sergeant Helmand: with me," Noble commanded as she walked over to the tank.
Jerking his head in Chenko's direction, Tariq dropped his shovel and ran after Noble.
"So... what's our mission First Sergeant?"
"You remember those Skirmishers we engaged yesterday that was harassing our supply line?" Noble asked. "We had to pull out a damaged HEMTT from a blast crater?"
Tariq took a moment to think.
"Oh, right," he finally said. "That CM logistical unit. The one with that really squirrely driver. What'd they call him? Marcus?"
"Something like that," Noble said dismissively as they walked up to the tank. Tariq could see Corona craning his head to look at them curiously, and Tariq gestured for him to join them. "At any case, I'm talking about those Skirmishers that ambushed the convoy."
"Yeah, I remember them," Tariq replied. "What about them?"
"Apparently we didn't get them all," Noble said simply. "They were quiet for the rest of the day yesterday, which is why we didn't think anything of them, but I guess they've decided to come back into the war. They just hit a convoy a couple minutes ago. Command wants our rear secure before we attack, so… we've been tapped to go in and take them out. For good this time."
They both looked up as Chenko and the rest of his men joined them. Noble lifted a hand in greeting before continuing.
"According to surveillance," she said as she activated a map of the general area, "Skirmishers have probably taken shelter here, inside the Waldo Provincial Park."
"Good place for them," Chenko commented. "It's a pine forest so the trees still have their leaves, even in the winter. Plenty of places for them to take cover in."
Noble nodded. "Exactly. Our plan is simple: we go in, flush them out, and then kill them."
"We have any idea of the numbers we'll be facing?" Tariq asked.
"Roughly twenty Skirmishers of various ranks. Suspect heavy weapons, but no vehicle or fire support."
Tariq silently snorted. That was so typical of the Covenant. Only twenty guys with no vehicles, but rather than do the smart thing which was to set up some observation posts and keep quiet, the Covenant naturally insisted on attacking everything in sight. Given their lack of discipline and poor tactical ability on all levels, from the lowest soldier to the highest general, there were some days Tariq wondered how humanity was even losing this fight.
Of course, the fact the Covenant rarely committed to a surface invasion like this one probably didn't help. It was going to be a very bad day if the Covenant ever found a general who was actually good at land warfare.
"Despite these small numbers," Noble was saying, "the assaulting force will be fairly robust: it will consist of Cataphract 07, Dragoon 2-2 and 2-4 approaching from the west, with elements of Hippeis approaching from the south. Our plan is basically to herd the Covenant into one general area in the woods so none of them can escape, and then kill them all. Any questions?"
Chenko raised his hand. "How's our tactical advance going to look like?"
"We'll advance through the woods in a rough line," Noble replied. "Dragoon 2-2 will be on the left flank, 2-4 on the right, with Cataphract 07 in the center. Infantry squads will be deployed by fireteam between the vehicles."
Tariq noticed Noble's eyes flickering in his direction, as if seeking his approval, and Tariq gave a sort of half-shrug. It was as good of a plan as any.
"Cataphract will advance the main road as we've got the mine plow, Dragoon will advance parallel down these foot paths. Our goal is to herd the Covenant into this clearing here, but honestly, any spot will really do, just as long as we don't allow any of these bastards to slip past us. We'll advance with a fifteen meter spacing between each vehicle, five meter spacing between each rifleman. Radio check every five minutes, as soon as we hit the woods, we'll probably lose visual contact with each other. Any questions?"
Tariq shook his head. Everything was pretty straight forward.
"Then let's move it out."
The meeting broke apart as everyone headed back to their respective vehicles.
Tariq hefted his SMG, which reminded him he needed to eventually go get more ammo for, and climbed aboard Lillian. Hopping inside, he settled down at his station and immediately felt a sense of exhaustion settle over him. It was getting tiring, not just today but in general, getting back time after time into this tank. Tariq wasn't sure how many more years he'd be able to keep this up.
Tariq couldn't help but snort in amusement at his own gripping. He was only twenty-three; yet, he was already sounding like he was in his forties or fifties. Fighting a war sucked major balls. He wondered how Noble was managing to hold on.
"Gunner, load up one gun with canister, the other with HEAT," Noble commanded as she settled into her own seat. "We shouldn't encounter anything heavier than light infantry, but let's not take any chances."
Tariq silently nodded in agreement as he set his weapons.
"Driver, move us out!"
Lillian lurched forward and began plowing right through the snow in the direction of the park. As they drove, Tariq could feel himself falling back into the routine, though the ride was a lot less smooth than it usually was.
"Kid, what the hell is wrong with you?" Tariq demanded to know after he drove Lillian over a particularly large bump. "You're acting like you hadn't been driving this damn vehicle all day yesterday."
"Sorry," Corona distractedly replied. "Just not used to driving the tank with the mine plow attached."
"How the fuck does that affect you!?" Tariq demanded to know. "Plows aren't that heavy, at least not compared to the rest of the vehicle. There's no way it could be effecting the balance of this tank. Fucking idiot."
Tariq could hear Noble let out a sigh from behind him.
"Sergeant, what the hell is your damn problem with Private Corona?" Noble snapped before Corona could reply.
"It's alright, First Sergeant," Corona started to say, but he was quickly cut off.
"No Private, it's not okay," she retorted. "Under the circumstances, you're doing fine. Sergeant Helmand needs to just lay off with the hostility. Unless he's got a personal reason to dislike you...?"
"No, First Sergeant," Tariq reluctantly replied.
"Then lay off him. I understand there's always some good natural ribbing between veterans and replacements, but now you're taking it too far. Unless you got something constructive to say, shut up, Sergeant. That's an order."
"Yes, First Sergeant," Tariq quietly replied.
"Good. Driver, halt. Cataphract 07 to Dragoons 2-2 and 2-4: begin deploying infantry, over."
With a start, Tariq glanced out of his periscopes. Without him realizing, they had somehow already arrived at their destination.
"I'm going up top," Noble reported and Tariq shivered as she popped open the hatch, allowing the freezing air to once again permeate the vehicle, and climbed out, leaving Tariq and Corona to wait for the infantry to sort themselves out.
Tariq could hear Corona clearing his throat.
"Um... just so you know... I didn't ask her to say any of that," Corona apologetically began, but Tariq wasn't interested at the moment.
"Private, shut the fuck up and pay attention to your damn job," Tariq snapped. He could see Corona lifting his hands off his controls in a placating gesturing.
"Okay," he gently replied. "That's fine, we're cool."
Tariq had to bite his tongue to avoid retorting. Instead, he glanced outside to see what the infantry were doing. He could see Chenko gesturing wildly at his men to get into position before reaching up and -
"Cataphract 07, we're all set, over," Tariq heard him say over the radio.
"Copy that. Platoon: advance!"
"Roger. Alright, 2nd Squad! Watch your spacing and move it out!"
Tariq watched as Chenko and his men plunged into the snow covered trees. He waited for a few moments, with his hand hovering near the trigger. Between the snow, the morning darkness, and the infantry's camouflaged uniforms which also helped mask their heat signature, it didn't take long for Tariq to completely lose sight of the infantry across all spectrums. Fortunately, their IFF beacons were still broadcasting, so Tariq was able to track their movements via motion tracker, but it still made him sit up straighter in his chair as he monitored their progress.
"This is 2-2 Alpha," Chenko said after a few moments. "Radio check."
"Cataphract 07: we read you loud and clear," Noble replied.
"Copy. We're making our way through the woods. Undergrowth is a bit thick," he added, and Tariq could hear him grunting, "But we're making good progress. No sign of enemy infantry just yet, over."
"Understood, 2-2. Keep alert. There's no way they didn't hear us coming, over."
"Wilco. Hey! Contreras! Keep your eyes up, brother! Skirmishers can climb trees, don't you know?"
There was a mute click as Chenko switched his radio off, before he was replaced by Noble.
"Alright, crunchies are in," Noble reported over the general channel. "2-2 and 2-4, advance. Driver, let's push forward, but keep a safe distance between us and the infantry."
Tariq immediately looked up at that. Putting a hand over his mic just in case it somehow turned on, he leaned as far back in his seat as he could and gave Noble's pant leg a good tug to get her attention.
"Hang on First Sergeant," he quietly said as soon as she ducked back into the tank. "We're going into the woods?"
The look she gave him clearly showed she thought he was messing with her.
"Yeah, Sergeant," she slowly began. "That's what we're here for: to drive these Skirmisher out of here and into the open."
"No, I got that First Sergeant, but we," Tariq gestured at the vehicle around them, "don't need to go into the woods. We got good positioning here: a nice concealed position, good sight lines, and a strong radio connection with our infantry support. We can literally just sit here and lob shells into the woods and all we'll need is for Sergeant Chenko to tell us how to adjust. We go into those woods, we lose all that."
"We went into the city earlier," Noble pointed out, but Tariq shook his head.
"Different situation entirely. We were trying to capture the town. The buildings would have blocked our shots, unlike here. Plus, at the very least, there were plenty of avenues of approach we could have taken. Here, we would be confined to one road. We go into those woods, we'd be asking to get ambushed."
Noble looked hesitant at that. For a long moment, she didn't say anything as she seemed to be considering everything Tariq had just told her.
"Uh... First Sergeant? What we are doing? Am I continuing to advance or what...?"
Both Noble and Tariq glanced in Corona's direction. Evidently, in lack of new orders, Corona had proceeded to follow his original ones and had started to drive forward, reaching the very edge of the woods before hesitating. At that, Noble seemed to come to a decision.
"All vehicles, halt," she commanded. "Hold position on the edge of tree line. 2-2 Alpha, we're standing by to provide fire support."
"Copy," Chenko immediately replied, however he sounded distracted. "07, be advised, we have eyes on what might be a Skirmisher fighting position."
A navpoint appeared on Tariq's HUD.
"We spotted possible Covenant movement disappearing behind some bushes maybe ten meters behind that navpoint," Chenko continued. "Requesting you fire one round, HEAT, flush them out, over."
"Copy that," Noble smoothly replied. "One round, HEAT. Standby."
She glanced at Tariq, who was busy adjusting his turret.
"Gun up!" Tariq announced as soon as he was satisfied he was on target.
"Send it."
"On the way!" Tariq bellowed. But just as he pulled the trigger -
"Hang on, Sergeant," one of Chenko's men suddenly yelled over the radio. "That damn Skirmisher just fizzled out of existence, like it was a damn hologram!"
"What!?"
At that moment, Tariq's shell exploded, causing him to miss hearing what Chenko said next. However, he didn't miss it when Chenko started screaming, "Contact, CONTACT!"
The crackling of machine gun fire began echoing through the woods, and Tariq glanced through his scopes. He could see the holographic markers indicating where Chenko and men were located, further in the woods, but he had no idea what they were shooting at. Glancing at his motion tracker, he was surprised to see red dots moving all over the place, including right beside his tank suggesting they were surrounded, but that didn't make much sense as there were definitely no hostiles around him.
Reaching out, Tariq gave his motion tracker a good smack, just to see what would happened, but the dots still remained. It took him a few moments to realize what was going on.
"They got a radar jammer!" Tariq exclaimed.
At the same time, Noble was saying, "2-2 Alpha, this is 07: give me a sitrep, over!"
"07, I got hostiles!" Chenko immediately yelled back. "Think we found the Skirmishers! Don't know where the hell they came from but - Bensen! Put a grenade right there, RIGHT THERE! No! Look at where I'm pointing at dumbass! Holy shit, these guys are fast. 07, be advised, these aren't your run of the mill Skirmishers, we got Champions and Murmillos inside the forest!"
"Shhhhit," Tariq hissed under his breath. Champions and Murmillos were some of the best troops Skirmishers could hope to become. They were like what Zealots were to the Elite: the best of the best of their species.
"We're taking heavy fire from this area!" Chenko continued, and another navpoint appeared on Tariq's HUD. "Request you just start saturating that area with as much HE as you possibly can, over!"
"Copy that, fire support is on the way!" Noble yelled back. "Gunner, open fire! 2-2 and 2-4, shift your autocannons in that direction and open fire!"
Tariq panned his turret to the side and opened fire on the spot Chenko had indicated. In the meantime, he listened as Chenko and the rest of the riflemen attempted to coordinate their actions as the firefight continued to unfold.
"Hey, spread out y'all!" Chenko was yelling at his men. "Don't fucking bunch up! Contreras, watch your fucking spacing, you goddamn cyka!"
"Sniper! Get that little monkey up in that damn tree!"
"Which fucking tree!? We're surrounded by fucking trees!"
"Just... fucking shoot at all the ones in front of us!"
"Well, that doesn't tell me shit!"
"Keep your - oh shit, INCOMING!"
"What the - hey! That was one of our fucking shells! Shoot at the bad guys, not us you fucking assholes!"
"Hey! Dragoon 2-2 or 2-4! One of you guys need to shift fire!" Chenko bellowed. "Your forty mils are hitting way too close to us!"
"Copy! Dragoons, cease fire!" Noble immediately ordered. "2-2 Alpha, we're attempting to figure out who needs adjustment. Standby to spot the fall of these rounds, over."
"Roger!"
"2-2, fire!"
As he waited for his cannons to reload, Tariq glanced to his left in 2-2 direction as the IFV fired a three round burst, ejecting shells casings straight up into the air as they did.
"Those rounds are on target!" Chenko yelled. "2-4, adjust your fire! Go up another... uh, fifteen meters!"
"Copy, will adjust," came the reply from 2-4's vehicle commander.
"2-2 Alpha to all vehicles: maintain suppressing fire on the target! Hey! 2-2 Bravo! Corporal Ivan! If me and 2-4 Alpha lay down some covering fire, you think you can take your fireteam and do a flanking run to the right!?"
"I tried doing that about five seconds ago!" Ivan yelled back. "But I've run right into a pillbox and I'm pinned down! 07, I need some fire support at this location! Target is some makeshift pillbox made out of logs, over!"
"Dragoons, maintain suppressing fire on initial target Alpha," Noble barked and Tariq stole a glance in Dragoon 2-4's direction on the left to see all sorts of brass casings piling up on the ground beside the IFV's tracks as the Armadillo continued to fire its main cannon into the woods. "Gunner, shift fire right onto target Bravo!"
"Shifting!" Tariq yelled as he adjusted his aim and fired again.
"07! Target is about ten, fifteen meters to the right of where you're hitting!" Ivan reported. "Need you to adjust, over!"
Tariq hastily panned his turret to the right a bit and fired again.
"Now you've gone too far!" Ivan immediately yelled. "Push left... maybe five meters to the left!"
"Copy!"
Tariq adjusted his aim once more, shifting his turret to the left just a hair before promptly opening up with everything he had. At the same time, he could hear the RWS going off, and he realized Noble was also firing their heavy machine gun in support, spraying the area down with indirect machine gun fire.
"That's it, right there 07, break! Svenson, get the SRAAW and hit that fucking thing while it's suppressed! The rest of you, as soon as that bunker goes up, peel left!"
"Bensen, watch your fucking back, don't let these fuckers get close 'cause they will fucking snap you in half! Dragoon 2-2, shift fire left about six meters, over!"
"MAN DOWN! This is 2-4 Alpha, I got a man down! MEDIC!"
"Who got hit? And how bad is it?"
"It's Specialist Stieringer! He took a couple needlers to the lower gut, blew his stomach wide open! So it's bad! Very bad! We need to get him out of here, now!"
"Copy!" Chenko yelled back. "07, we need one of the 'Dillos to move up to 2-4 Alpha's position and medevac a critically wounded man, over!"
"Copy that 2-2, standby!"
Tariq heard Noble clicking off her mic, and he could almost feel her staring at the back of his head.
"We send an IFV in, we risk losing it," Tariq noted. "But if we don't, that WIA becomes a KIA. Either way, it's a shitty situation, but it's your call First Sergeant!"
He glanced over his shoulder to see Noble biting the inside of her lip.
"Dragoon 2-4, move in and evacuate the wounded," she finally ordered. "07 to 2-2 Alpha: Dragoon 2-4 is inbound to evacuate the wounded. Establish a casualty collection point and standby to lead 2-4 right to it!"
"Copy that 07! Alright guys, you heard the lady, move it!"
"2-2 Bravo, give me an update on your status, over!" Noble called into the radio.
"This is Bravo!" came the near instant reply. "Target has been destroyed, lift fire! Break! 2-2 Alpha, we're attempting our flanking run now! See if we can't take some of that pressure off you, over!"
"2-2 Bravo, say again? You're only attempting your run now?"
"That's an affirm!"
"I thought you started five minutes ago! Why the hell else did we start taking less fire - fuck! Skirmishers have peeled away! All units, be advised, enemy has broken contact - 2nd Squad and 4th Squads do not have eyes on enemy contacts any longer, I say again, we do not have enemy Skirmishers pinned down anymore!"
"Oh, fuck!" Tariq swore as he realized what that meant. If Chenko and his men no longer had eyes on the Skirmishers, then that meant the Skirmishers could be anywhere in these woods -
- including attempting to make a flanking attack on the unsupported armored vehicles sitting on the edge of the tree line.
Tariq grabbed his sights and swiveled them around in time to see several Skirmishers dropping out of the tree tops and landing right on top of Dragoon 2-2's Armadillo. The group consisted of four Murmillos and at least one Champion, all of whom began banging on the hatches that would lead inside the Armadillo.
"This is Dragoon 2-2: help! I got infantry swarming all over my vehicle!" came the frantic cry from the Armadillo crew.
"2-2: hang on!" Noble yelled. "Driver, back us up away from this tree line just in case the Skirmishers try to jump us next. Gunner! Spray down 2-2's vehicle!"
"Man, I hope you guys are really buttoned up," Tariq muttered under his breath as he turned his turret in 2-2's direction and opened fire with his coax.
Sparks began flying in all directions as Tariq simply hosed the entire IFV down with machine gun fire. He saw one Murmillo get hit several times in the legs and upper torso with gunfire, sending the creature sprawling to the ground. The remaining four Skirmishers, however, quickly took cover behind 2-2's turret which Tariq couldn't penetrate with his machine gun fire, even if he wanted to.
"Goddamn, these fuckers are hard to hit," Tariq hissed as the Skirmishers returned fire, hitting Lillian with a bunch of blind fired plasma. "First Sergeant! 2-2 has got to turn their turret! I can't hit the Skirmishers otherwise!"
"2-2, turn your turret!" Noble barked and outside, Tariq could see 2-2 hurriedly rotating their turret.
Unsurprisingly, the Skirmishers began moving with the turret, trying to avoid getting knocked out of cover by 2-2's barrel. It wasn't perfect, and for a brief moment, one of the Murmillo's accidently stepped out from behind cover. Tariq didn't hesitate, and blasted away at the alien. He could see one round striking the Skirmisher right in the shoulder, blowing the alien's left arm off and knocking the creature off the top of the IFV and onto the ground. But the wounded Skirmisher wasn't able to accomplish much because immediately 2-2 began spinning their entire Armadillo around in a circle, shifting large amounts of snow around and throwing it right on top of the Skirmisher, essentially burying the alien alive.
At the same time, Tariq was doing his best to hit the last three Skirmishers, but without warning, 2-2's turret stopped rotating.
"What the hell 2-2!?" Tariq yelled.
"2-2, keep rotating your turret: you still have three Skirmishers sitting on top!" Noble yelled.
"We know! But we can't turn our turret any longer! We think the Skirmishers have somehow jammed it in place!"
"Fuck!"
Now secure behind cover, the Skirmishers continued to rain plasma down on Lillian, and there was very little Tariq could do about it from inside the tank. While the plasma was hardly strong enough to penetrate Lillian's armor, there was always the chance they could hit something vital and plus, with the Skirmishers drawing their attention, there was no way Lillian could support the infantrymen still fighting in the woods. There had to be some way for Tariq to deal with the Skirmishers, but how?
As he studied the IFV, Tariq suddenly realized two of the Skirmishers were standing extremely close to one of the Armadillo's reactive armor panels. Why Dragoon 2-2 even had reactive armor panels mounted was a bit of a mystery to Tariq as reactive armor had proven to be all but ineffective against Covenant based plasma weaponry, but it suddenly occurred to Tariq that was something he could use now.
"First Sergeant, I think I figured out a way to get those Skirmishers off Dragoon," Tariq yelled. "But I'm going to have to fire a HEAT round at them."
"What!?"
"If I can trigger some of their reactive armor, the explosion might just be enough to at least knock the Skirmishers off and into the open!" Tariq told her. "Because, otherwise, I don't know what else to do!"
Noble glanced at him and let out a sigh.
"I hope you know what you're doing," was all she said before lifting her mic, "2-2 Actual, get out of your turret and into the vehicle itself. We're going to try something, and it's going to involve us shooting a HEAT round right at you. Get down in case it actually penetrates."
"Understood! Whatever it is, just make it fast! Our hatch locks aren't going to last much longer!"
"Gunner?" Noble demanded.
"Hang on!" Tariq distractedly yelled back as he took careful aim. His goal was to avoid hitting Dragoon head on with his shell, just in case it penetrated, but at the same time, he had to hit the reactive panel with enough force to actually trigger the explosive brick inside. "I think I got it!"
"Fire!"
"On the way!"
Tariq pulled the trigger.
BANG!
One of Dragoon's reactive panels exploded! The Skirmishers had moved by the time Tariq had fired, so only one of the aliens actually got hit by the blast, but Tariq was delighted to see it was the Champion that was blown to the ground.
"Troop in the open!" Noble yelled as the Champion struggled to his feet and Tariq hurriedly turned his turret and aimed directly at the creature.
"Engaging!" Tariq roared as he fired his coax. He could also see tracers coming from the top of the tank and he realized Noble was also engaging with the RWS.
Tariq's first burst smashed into the Skirmisher's legs just as the creature was standing up. The machine gun bullet ripped through the alien's flesh and shattered its bones, sending the Skirmisher crashing onto the ground once more. As the Champion laid there, screaming in pain and hatred, Noble blow its head off with a single .50cal bullet, and Tariq couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Ha!"
"Incoming!"
Tariq's head jerked up in time to see the overcharged plasma pistol shot flying right towards them. The overcharged hit Lillian's turret dead on and immediately the entire tank shut down.
"EMP! Private, reset the system!"
"Too late!" Tariq yelled as through his backup sights, he could see the remaining Skirmishers hope off Dragoon and began charging straight towards the tank. "Enemy in the open! No power - I don't got a shot!"
"Small arms! Small arms! Driver, engage!" Noble immediately bellowed. She grabbed her SMG and popped open her hatch. Almost immediately, Tariq could hear an M7 going off and glancing outside, he could see one of the Skirmishers lifting his point defense gauntlets strapped to his forearm and deflecting the first burst.
"Private, I don't have a hatch of my own! Get out there and help out!" Tariq snapped.
"I'm on it!" Corona yelped as he grabbed his own SMG and unlatching his hatch.
As Tariq frantically did his best to reset the entire tank from his station, he glanced outside. Noble was still frantically shooting at one of the Skirmishers, but the Skirmisher was somehow able to block just about everyone one of her shots. Then -
PATATATATATA!
Corona opened up, firing an extended burst right at the same one Noble was shooting. Taken by surprise and unable to block gunfire come from two different angles, the Murmillo took several shots to the leg and toppled to the ground. Tariq could see the alien gripping its legs and screeching in pain, before Noble finished it off with a quick four round burst to the upper chest.
"Reloading!" Noble screamed as she ducked back and ejected her empty magazine and tossing it aside. "Sergeant, I need a new magazine!"
Swearing, Tariq lurched forward and grabbed a couple sitting inside a pouch mounted on the wall next to his station.
"First Sergeant! Here!" he yelled, tossing her the magazines.
Meanwhile, Corona had shifted his fire towards the remaining Skirmisher but before he could fire, the Skirmisher pulled out its plasma pistol and managed to fire first. The alien sprayed the entire tank down with wild plasma fire, forcing Corona to duck, and as the Skirmisher got closer, Tariq could see the alien pulling out a plasma grenade with its free hand and priming it. Just as the Skirmisher drew back its arm to throw the grenade –
BOOM CLANK!
- a 40mm shell slammed right into the Skirmisher's back, causing the alien to practically burst open like a ripe watermelon that had been dropped from the top of a ten story building, leaving a vaguely Skirmisher shaped smear of blood on the ground. The shell continued it journey, ricocheting off the ground and into the side of Lillian's side skirt armor, where it failed to do much more than scratch the paint.
Tariq glanced to up to see that while the Skirmishers had been distracted, Dragoon had taken the opportunity to spin around on the spot until their cannon had been pointed directly at the remaining Skirmisher so they could engage.
"Thanks for the assist, 2-2," Noble said over the radio as soon as Corona reset the system.
"Consider it payback," 2-2 replied.
"Fair enough," Noble allowed before switching topics. "2-2 Alpha, 07: we have five confirmed Skirmishers down in our area. What is your status?"
"We're still engaged!" came Chenko's reply. "But I think we're achieving fire superiority! Might want to give Hippeis a head's up; I think they've got incoming!"
Tariq glanced at his sensors. Someone must have disabled or destroyed the radar jammer as everything had cleared up, and Tariq could now very clearly see three or four red dots in the center of his screen while blue dots representing Chenko and his squad were closing in from below. Simultaneously, at the top of his screen on the edge of his sensor limits, he could see more blue dots emerging: Hippeis and their infantry support closing in from above. It wouldn't be long before the remaining Skirmishers were surrounded and wiped out to the last.
"Copy that, Alpha," Noble replied. "Break. Cataphract to Hippeis. Do you read, over?"
"This is Hippeis, go ahead."
"Hippeis, be advised, you've got incoming foot mobiles to your position. How copy, over?"
"Copy that, we're picking them on our sensors and... yep, incoming already came. We're engaging, over."
Over the radio, Tariq could hear the sound of machine gun fire and as he watched, one of the red dots abruptly disappeared from his screen.
"Scratch one Champion!" Hippeis crowed. "Cataphract, have your infantry support cease pursuit and assume defensive positions; we'll take it over from here."
"Copy. Cataphract, out. 07 to 2-4, what's your status, over?"
"We've extracted the wounded and are pulling out of the woods now," 2-4 reported and Tariq glanced up to see an Armadillo backing out from the tree line. There were scorch marks all over the vehicle's armor, indicating 2-4 had taken some fire, but for the most part, the IFV seemed intact. "Some of these guys are hurt pretty bad; they need immediate medical attention! Requesting permission to return to base?"
"Granted. Get out of here."
Noble waited until 2-4 started pulling away before continuing. "2-2, how badly fucked up is your turret, over?"
"Weapons are operational, as you saw, but we can't aim them unless we turn our entire vehicle," 2-2 replied. "Not sure what those Skirmishers did; we're probably going to need the mechanics to check it out."
"Understood. Sounds like things are wrapping up for now, so hopefully we won't need your weapons. Hold position for now so the crunchies can have a ride and once we return to base, we'll have the mechanics check your vehicle out."
"Acknowledged. 2-2, out."
The radio feel silent and Tariq sat back in his seat. He watched as the dots on his screen go from two, to one, and then finally all signs indicated all hostiles had been eliminated. Infantry would take another fifteen to thirty minutes sweeping the rest of the woods, just to make sure, but for now, Tariq was satisfied this little skirmish of theirs was over.
Now they could focus on killing all the other Covenant on the planet.
Author's Note
- The second half of this chapter, the one involving Tariq, was actually a chapter I had intended to use for Book 1, but ultimately decided to cut. I figured I could repurpose it for this book to show that, while the Covenant have ended most of their major offensives and the UNSC has yet to begin theirs, there's still a bunch of minor skirmishes going on as both sides attempt to leverage themselves into a better position before the real attack begins.