First platoon and I had walked another five kilometers through the streets in the next forty-five minutes; Banshee patrols, much like the one before, had kept the going slow. Somewhere up ahead I knew a Covenant force was looming, as the air patrols were gradually getting larger in numbers. Another thirty-odd klicks and we'd probably be on top of the Covenant invasion force.
The prospect didn't excite me too much. Bravo Company was supposed to find out how many Covenant troops were coming towards Europa Base, but I had the feeling we were walking into a trap. One company against an army of enemy soldiers? We were screwed in every sense of the word.
"Captain Kingston?" I radioed to my superior officer.
"What is it, Lieutenant Cooper? More Banshees?"
"No, sir. Not yet, anyway. But…do you suppose Europa Base will send us any reinforcement, sir?"
"You know the drill, Lieutenant. We find the Covie force, we figure out how many there are, we get out, and we relay the info."
"All due respect, sir, but I don't think it's going to be that easy."
"I'll worry about that when the time comes, Cooper. You just keep moving ahead and take care of those patrols. You're doing an excellent job, by the way."
"Thank you, sir."
Somehow, the conversation left me disappointed.
"Lieutenant?" Hillburn's voice suddenly flooded my head.
"Go ahead," I replied.
"Looks like there might be civvies a few blocks up, ma'am. I thought they'd been evacuated, since there weren't any till now."
"There's no way. No one knew about the attack until it happened," I reminded her. I tinted my helmet's visor further to keep from squinting against the sun again, and pulled my field binoculars out of one of my cargo pockets. I always knew it had been a good idea to keep them near my uniform all the time. After ordering the platoon to halt in a covered area, I looked through the binoculars.
Sure enough, two city blocks from our position, civvies were congregated near a fountain. Some were sitting, some were drinking water, and some walked about aimlessly. All were blackened by what I assumed was a large explosion; nearly all the buildings around them were at least halfway destroyed.
"Jesus," I breathed. I opened a channel to Petty Officer Reynolds, and told him to look at the scene ahead.
"Ma'am?" he asked, running up beside me.
"Take a look, Reynolds," I said, handing him my binoculars. A moment later, I heard him gasp.
"It's terrible," he said quietly.
One thing I'd noticed about Reynolds was that ever since Willis had given him the verbal---and almost physical---smackdown, the medic had quickly gotten over his attraction to me. This development made our off-duty friendship and on-duty professional relationship much easier on both of us; it was great to have him as a friend without the unspoken tension.
"Did you manage to grab any extra medical supplies before you were called out?" I asked him, returning to the present.
"I got the platoon gear, which is always prepped. I'm having Corporal Simmons and Private Foster carry some of it. Other than that, I have some extra sterile bandages, biofoam canisters, and morphine, but not enough for that many people plus us."
Here I was faced with a moral dilemma: should I allow Petty Officer Reynolds to give the injured civilians medical attention and risk not having equipment for ourselves, or should we walk right on by to ensure our later treatment?
There was no time to mull this over; I made the choice I thought was right and had Reynolds stay close to me as we continued our forward march.
For the last two klicks or so, the area had been getting more and more densely populated; we were getting closer to the heart of the city. And suddenly the absence of people in the suburbs made sense to me: since the suburbs were closer to Europa Base, the civilians had been quickly moved farther out. In this case, that meant closer to the hub of Cote D'Azur…and unfortunately, no one could have predicted that that would lie directly in the path of the invasion force.
"They've probably been getting pounded by Covenant air support," I said to Reynolds.
"Yes, ma'am. And did you notice their numbers? There's only about four or five dozen civilians around that fountain and hundreds of ruined homes."
I turned cold inside as the implications of what the medic was saying hit home. We were about to walk into a horrible scene of carnage and death, and my stomach was already getting queasy.
"I really wish I wasn't so hungover," I muttered as we got closer to the fountain.
"Ma'am?"
"My head's been pounding for the past hour and a half now. I can hardly even think straight."
Despite the nasty situation we found ourselves in, the medic managed a half-smile. "You never cease to amaze me, El-Tee."
"What, you thought I was in the point oh-one percent of the military population that didn't drink?" I said with a smirk of my own.
"No, ma'am. I just find it interesting that you'd admit to being hungover to a subordinate. While we're being invaded."
"Yeah, well..."
The petty officer was about to reply to my unfinished statement when I stopped dead in my tracks.
We'd reached the block just before the fountain, and as I looked around at the destruction, I felt a part of me collapse inside.
"Oh, my God."
"I wish I could say I'd never seen anything like this, El-Tee."
The civilians near the fountain all looked dazed; most were bleeding from head, arm, leg, shoulder, or gut wounds. Scorch marks peppered the old water fountain, and water sprayed out at odd angles from the damage it had sustained. Only a few yards away from the shocked but living civilians, the fresh bodies of the less fortunate lay in pools of blood.
"Start triage, Reynolds," I ordered, my voice sounding automated.
"Yes, ma'am," the medic said, and he began to move through the crowd of civvies with mechanical efficiency. It was times like these when one went into an almost robotic state to keep the human side from insanity.
Like the medic, I, too, wished I'd never witnessed such a scene before. But with nearly five years of combat operations on various planets, I had to say this situation was not different from a handful of others I'd encountered.
Not that it ever got any easier to take.
Still on autopilot, I opened a COM channel to third platoon, who would be arriving on-scene in about twenty minutes, if all went well.
"Lewis?"
"What's going on, Cooper?"
"We…" I paused to turn my back on the desolate sights before me. "Tell your medic to get ready to treat some civvies. We just found some evacuees."
"Ok. See you in a few. Lewis out."
As Petty Officer Reynolds completed his initial assessment of the fountain area, I walked around while waiting for the rest of first platoon to show up. I was hoping to find a civilian that was not too psychologically damaged to explain what had happened.
Stepping over dead bodies and debris, I found a man leaning against the side of a half-blown building, who seemed to be surveying the area with passing interest. He was dirty from the dust swirling around the place, and his clothes were torn and covered in scorch marks. He coughed as I approached him.
"Sir?" I said, using the external speakers on my helmet. I waited for him to acknowledge my presence with a glance before continuing. "I'm Lieutenant Natalie Cooper, UNSC Marines. Can you tell me what happened here?"
He stared at me for a moment, eyes somewhat distant. Then he refocused and shook his head. "I don't really know. I was just waking up to go to work and I got a warning message on my datapad. Said Covies were invading. My wife…" The man placed a hand over his face for just an instant, then said, "She…said to come out here, where all the other evacuees were going. Then, not a half-hour ago, these purple alien things came screeching in, fired on everyone…"
"Do you know how many there were, sir?"
"God, I don't know. They just blew everything apart…there were people running, screaming, buildings falling…" His hand went to his face again, and his voice broke. "I have no idea where my wife and kids are!"
My throat caught for a moment as I tried to reply. This poor man, probably in his mid-forties, had just watched his family quite possibly get burned by Covenant plasma.
"Thank you for the information, sir. Our medic is coming by to treat injuries, so don't worry. Mind if I get your name? In case we see anyone from your family?"
"Greg Howard. Please, if you see Karen or my two little girls…"
I nodded. "We'll let you know right away."
Trying to get back to the robotic state I'd been in just a few seconds ago, I continued my slow march around the fountain. The proportion of civilians lying dead on the street to those gaunt shells called "survivors" was staggering. Somewhere near the fountain, I walked up to a second civilian.
This civvie looked to be only a few years younger than Greg Howard, and he was in worse shape, too. Dried blood caked his face, and he was cradling his left arm; half of his short beard looked like it had been burned off.
"Sir?" I asked when I was close enough, using the speakers again.
He appeared to ignore me at first, still looking off in the opposite direction. When he did turn to me, he seemed startled, as if he had no idea I'd approached.
"Lieutenant Cooper, UNSC Marines. Know what happened here, sir?"
He just looked at my tinted faceplate, but said nothing for a good minute. Then, realizing that I had finished speaking, he yelled, "What?!"
I was about to repeat myself when he turned his head slightly to expose the left side. That's when I saw the dried blood on his face had streaked down from his ear; the man's eardrums had ruptured in an explosion. There was a good-sized laceration on the side of his forehead, as well.
I nodded, signifying I understood the message, and placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll get you fixed up, sir."
Though he didn't hear me, he, too, understood that I was trying to reassure him. He gave me a faint smile.
"Thank you!" he cried.
Resuming my recon of the fountain area, I finally slung my shotgun on my shoulder and lifted the faceplate of my helmet. For the first time since being on base, I breathed oxygen outside my own sealed helmet; the air smelled of dust, blood, and death. After only a few breaths, my lungs began to protest, and I had to pull down the tinted faceplate once more.
God, how awful it must be for these people, I thought. They don't have any alternative to the air they're breathing.
Once I reached the side of the street we had marched up from, I knew my circle was complete. Meanwhile, Reynolds was still making the rounds, and I was about to radio him for information when I saw third squad walk up.
Second Lieutenant Hillburn made her way towards me, and I assumed she had questions about the situation. However, when she was standing just a few feet from me, I saw her take off her helmet. I opened a COM channel to correct her serious error, but stopped when she suddenly bent over before the dead bodies and puked.
Now my stomach was really getting uneasy.
I walked the few steps separating us and stood above her, arms folded across my chest.
Hillburn rinsed her mouth with water from her canteen, then spat it out. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant," she said, still bent over and placing her hands on her knees.
"Are you kidding? I tossed my cookies twice my first time," I assured her.
The young lieutenant looked up at me. "Really?"
"Yeah. First the sight, then the smell."
"Oh." The conversation halted momentarily as Hillburn vomited a second time.
"See?" I stepped back a few paces, and shook the chunks off one of my boots. "You'd better put your helmet back on, or you'll be throwing up some more."
The second lieutenant repeated the rinsing technique, then said, "Yes, ma'am." She put her helmet back on and hefted her assault rifle.
"Lieutenant?" Petty Officer Reynolds's voice came through the COM channel.
"Go ahead, Doc."
"Fourteen civvies are too far gone for treatment, ma'am. Twenty-eight others need medical attention, seventeen immediate. I only have enough supplies for about twelve if we're going to keep any for ourselves, El-Tee."
My head pounded inside my skull. "How many of our men can we treat if you give resources to only twelve civilians, Doc?"
"I'd say about seventy-five percent, ma'am."
"Twenty-two out of thirty," I remarked.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Let's make the figure about fifty-fifty. That way you can treat those seventeen immediates, and the rest can wait for third platoon's medic."
"Got it, El-Tee."
"Ma'am?"
"What is it, Hillburn?"
"Orders?"
"Hang tight while Doc fixes up some civvies. Have first and third squads set up a perimeter, and have second squad up on some rooftops to provide us with sniper coverage. You stay down here with first and third, and I'll see what I can do about moving things along with the wounded. Tell everyone to stay alert. I have a feeling the Covies aren't done with this sector yet."
"Yes, ma'am."
Second Lieutenant Hillburn walked off then, in the direction of first and third squads. Delegating some of my duties to her would allow her to get some field leadership experience, and it would free me up for other tasks.
Still standing by the fountain, I radioed Captain Kingston with a report on first platoon's situation. I told him about this first group of civilian evacuees we'd found, and that the platoon medic was tending to the worst cases. Kingston approved, yet was somewhat concerned about what to do with the civilians once they'd been treated.
"Sir?" I asked, unsure what my commanding officer was getting at. "Can't we get some Warthogs up here from Europa Base?"
"That would require me to have contact with them, Lieutenant Cooper," the captain said, his voice somehow…different.
It took me a moment to digest this information. "Does that mean the Covies have taken over base, Captain?"
"I'm not sure what that means, Cooper. All I know is that it isn't good."
"Orders, sir?"
"Since we don't know what the problem is yet, we keep on target. We'll continue heading towards the Covenant force until we can make contact, we'll get their numbers, and we'll head back to base. That way we can find out what's happening."
"And the civvies, sir?"
"Have Doc Reynolds keep going with the orders you gave him, then get all the civilians to a safe place. Tell them to stay there and wait for third platoon."
"Sir, all due respect, but if the civvies stay here, there is a high probability that they will only be attacked by the Covenant a second time."
"I'm aware of that, Lieutenant, but we don't have any choice until we can get into contact with base. We can't tote around thirty-plus civvies---some wounded---and have that figure grow as we get deeper into the city. Right now, the best thing we can do is hole them up in a safe spot. That way, when third and second platoons roll in, we can check up on them. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Kingston out."
When the connection cut, I was left feeling bitter. Not really at Kingston, because I knew that he was right and was trying to control an unmanageable situation as best he could. What bugged me most was that, as usual, things seemed to be going very wrong very fast. Europa Base was most likely under fire, and we had people in the city that needed to get out, fast. Some, I knew, wouldn't last more than a few hours without getting to a medical facility…and the longer they stayed in the path of the Covenant invasion, the higher their chances of not making it out alive.
I sighed and started a second walk around the fountain area, looking around for an appropriate "safe area" for the civvies to stay in while they waited for the rest of Bravo Company. But if the Covenant were clearly coming this way with a large portion of their army, was any place really going to provide cover?
The answer, in my experience, was an overwhelming "no".
Lost in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed that I'd been staring absently down at a young girl, probably ten to twelve years old. She was covered head to toe in black scorch marks, and had two clean lines rolling down her cheeks---streak marks from tears. That's when I saw that she was holding bloody hands to her abdomen.
"H-hey," she said in a shaky voice. "C-can you help me?" Propped up on an elbow and leaning against a slab of concrete, the girl coughed a few times. She spat blood.
I felt my throat get dry as I crouched to her level and asked, through external speakers, "What's your name, kid?"
"Madison," she replied. "H-have you seen my dad anywhere?" Tears started to well up in her eyes. "I think my whole family…"
I swallowed hard on the lump in my throat and said, "Is your father a Greg Howard, by any chance?"
Though weak, Madison's eyes brightened. "Yeah!"
I nodded, stood, and opened a COM channel to Corporal Garian in my helmet.
"Ma'am?"
"Corporal, I need you to find a middle-aged man, uninjured, by the name of Greg Howard. Tell him we've found one of his daughters and take him to this location." I uploaded a map with a blinking green dot on Madison's location and sent it to Garian.
"Yes, ma'am. I'm on it."
I cut the connection, then crouched back down to the girl. "So what happened to you, Madison?"
Her face contorted for a moment, and I realized how much pain she must be in. When she recovered, she said in a tight voice, "I…don't really know. I think I passed out after the big boom I heard…and then I had this hole in my tummy…" She let out a whimper. "It hurts!"
I opened my helmet visor so the kid wouldn't be as frightened, and I placed a gloved hand on her shoulder. "I know, kid, I know. But don't worry, we've got your dad coming here right now, Madison. And we have a pretty good medic who'll get you fixed up soon."
"Have you found Risa and Mom, too?" the girl asked, her eyes only half open.
"Not yet, kid, but we're looking for them, all right?"
"Ok. What's your name, lady?"
The stench in the street was overwhelming, but that wasn't what was causing tears to glisten in my eyes. I brought my faceplate down once more. "Natalie," I replied. My last name and rank would probably mean very little to the child.
The girl smiled faintly. "Thanks for finding Daddy, Natalie."
"No problem."
I looked up, and saw Corporal Garian and Greg Howard coming up in the distance. I glanced back at Madison, and said, "Hang in there, kid. Your dad's on his way."
Madison nodded only slightly, and I knew that if Reynolds couldn't get to her soon, she would bleed out from the blast hole in her abdomen.
Fuck, I really hate this sometimes, I thought to myself, trying hard to turn my emotions off again.
Continuing my search for a good building, I radioed the medic as I walked.
"Reynolds?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"What's our status with the wounded civvies?"
"Seven treated so far, Lieutenant."
"There's a little girl near here that's in pretty bad shape."
"I know, El-Tee. A lot of these civvies aren't doing too well. I'm going as fast as I can, ma'am."
I cut the connection and happened to turn my head towards a small one-story building off to my left. It looked to be about right for what I needed, so I started off in its direction. Crossing the street, however, I was stopped abruptly by the scene that met me on the opposite side. My robotic state completely lost now, I dropped silently to my knees, holding onto my shotgun with one weak hand.
I couldn't take my eyes off it. Or, rather, him.
Slumped against a bus stop bench was a little boy of about four or five years. His beautiful brown hair was caked in dry, dark red blood; his deep blue eyes were frozen by death in a permanent look of panic and fear. The hole piercing his small chest was both black and red, old and fresh blood mixing on his blue shirt.
I just stared. I really couldn't do anything---my limbs had stopped working. I'd seen things like this before, but I guess at some point the mechanical part of you cracks and the human part comes creeping back out at the wrong time.
I was so transfixed in the reality of the horror that I couldn't even cry.
This was when I knew for sure: like it or not, the Battle of Sigma Octanus IV had begun.