Chapter 6: Fallen
[11 September 2551]
[Officers Quarters, UNSC All Under Heaven]
[1550 Hours]
A loud knocking at the hatch roused Claire from her reverie. "Yes?" She called irritably.
"LT? We've exited Slipspace. 35 minutes out from Angelus-II."
"Thanks, Katy. Be out in five."
"Gotcha." The footsteps faded away, leaving Claire alone again. She sighed and tousled her hair.
They had picked up on the distress call while out on a routine recon. Angelus-II, a small colony in a remote part of the system, had come under siege from a Covenant detachment. Instead of glassing the planet, they had made landfall and invaded every populated area, looking for…something. No one ever knew what to expect from these aliens.
She got up from her seat and checked herself out in the mirror. Touch of vanity, her mind whispered.
"Shut up," she mumbled.
Not that there was much left to be vain about. The last three years hadn't exactly done Claire a whole lot of good. Oh sure, her raven hair was a bit longer, now just above her shoulders, and her cheeks had a bit more color to them, but in addition were a lot of lines under the green eyes that told their own story. A deep, badly healed scar on her cheek didn't help matters. And of course, the piece de resistance…
Claire examined the cybernetic contraption where her left hand once was. The wires and ceramic-titanium plating stretched like a series of islands from the end of her arm to the tip of her elbow, replacements for the chunks of flesh, muscle, and bone that she had lost to a random spike grenade back during the Hydra incursion when she was with TORN VICTOR.
The incident rang clear in her head: she and Katy in a foxhole, trying to suppress an entire pack of Brutes, when all of a sudden the damn explosive comes pin wheeling into the hole. Claire reacts instantly, grabs it, and just as she throws it, the piece of shit detonates, tearing right through her body armor and lacerating her arm to the bone. She had passed out from the blood loss, and awakened hours later to find she was short one hand of a full set. Katy had stayed by her side all afternoon while the compassionate Airman Dietrich had stitched her arm back together. When the sun set, David had arrived and spent the whole night talking with her to keep her mind off the pain. Claire smiled as she remembered how the Spartan had described the night.
Nostalgia, that's how you'll remember this night.
Oh, really? I thought nostalgia was a happy memory.
No, its not. Nostalgia is a Latin derivative that means, literally, "pain from the old wounds". It's not happy, its bittersweet. It is more than a memory, it's a part of you that you can't let go, no matter how much you think you want to, because deep down, you really don't want to. I guess you can sum it up best by saying the best times in your memory were also the worst times.
And he was right, the damn poet-Spartan was right. Every time she thought back to that long night where she was driven half crazy by pain, she couldn't help but smile at it.
And of course, thinking of that long night brought back the memories of David himself, and that didn't help.
Claire and her squad had gone on a top secret assignment last January. They were declared MIA last September. They were declared KIA in December, after a passing ONI patrol found the remains of the Wolf's Sun.
The truth was this: they had been on a top secret assignment. While en route to the target area, they had come under fire from a Covenant patrol. The crew had abandoned ship, but Captain Rousseau, the old stubborn Frenchman, had staunchly opted to remain on board. He went down with his ship, taking a Covenant cruiser with him.
The crew had landed on an uncharted planet near-by. The Covenant had followed them. They began waging a bloody guerilla war against one another.
Turns out, they were not alone.
On the morning of the third day, Lieutenant Matthew Keller, Claire's ex-friend, ex-boyfriend, and relative ONI psycho killer, showed up at the human camp. He informed them that, contrary to popular belief, everything was going according to plan.
He received a less than enthusiastic welcome.
He informed them that they were testing a new WMD for the UNSC. Codename NOVA, it was dubbed a planet killer. The testing ground was the planet they were on. All they needed to do was steal a Covenant ship (conveniently, there was a ship docked for repairs planet-side) deploy the warhead, and bug out before the thing detonated.
No easier said than done.
What followed was a dizzying and bloody romp across the planet as they stole the ship, deployed the nuke, and watched from space as the NOVA warhead erased the planet from existence. One medium sized Covenant fleet patrol: neutralized.
And that was just the first week.
Claire and the rest of the surviving crew members of the Wolfs Sun were taken to Reach. Claire was promoted to Lieutenant, placed in charge of an entire platoon, and assigned a new deployment. After two months of leave (yes, she had saved up that much vacation time) and two months training with her new outfit, she joined the crew of the All Under Heaven and reverted back to the shipboard lifestyle she was accustomed to.
Only one problem: David was gone. Just as she had resurfaced and returned to the land of the living, he had disappeared. She couldn't ask anyone where he was because honestly, even if someone knew where a high-spec ONI assassin had scampered off to, would they actually tell a junior ODST officer? Nuh-uh. Worse still, because she was still technically "dead" (something she was having a surprising amount of trouble undoing) there was no way she could communicate with him, not by mail, not by anything. He could be in a deep cover operation in hostile space, he could be a prisoner of war just like Matt was, he could be dead…the horrors of being legally dead were nothing in comparison to not knowing where a trusted friend was in the whole goddamn galaxy.
With one last sigh, Claire tied her hair back into a pony tail, adjusted her uniform, and exited the officer's quarters, making her way to the bridge. She quickly caught up with a familiar blonde head, and smiled. "Good afternoon, Sergeant Rawlings."
Katy smiled back, the scar on her chin stretching. "Good afternoon, Lieutenant Avalos. How are you today?"
"Pissed that a certain non-com interrupted my precious 'me' time. I'd strip her of her rank, except that she was the best damn soldier in my entire platoon."
Katy snorted. "Get stuffed. I thought Sugar was your best."
Staff Sergeant Carlos "Sugar" Chigurh was Claire's platoon sergeant and her right hand man in the field. A Hispanic ODST of medium height and build, he was quiet, intense man with a high moral standing and a penchant for speaking his mind and not caring who hears it. As such, he was frequently denied OCS training, despite exemplary marks in the field and a few notable accolades. Along with all that, he was an insufferable flirt, a regular Casanova who spent most of his off-duty hours sweet talking various crew members of the fairer sex. This had earned him the dubious nickname "Sugar".
"I thought Sugar was your best too, Katy."
Katy shrugged the comment off, but a slight tinge of red hinted at her cheeks. "He's nice," she said, partially subdued.
"So let's leave it at that. Agreed?"
"Agreed. I'm going to head down to the armory, get outfitted. You going to see the Commander?"
"Yep. I'll meet you in the armory. Oh, and make sure to-"
"Cadge an Automag from the gun boss, I know, I know." Katy shook her head. "I never knew you to be so attached to a weapon, Claire."
It wasn't attachment. It was more like loyalty to a friend.
Claire entered the bridge two minutes later. She nodded to a few of the deck officers, and saluted the Hispanic woman wearing the uniform of a ship commander. "Commander Rios, m'am."
Lieutenant Commander Elena Rios, CO of the All Under Heaven, returned the salute. "Lieutenant Avalos." She returned her attention to the view screen before her. "Domovoi, brief the Lieutenant on the current situation."
The former AI of the Wolfs Sun sprang up from the nearby holo-port. "In a word, Lieutenant, desperate. The Covenant task force is small, half a dozen frigates with one cruiser, but by my calculations, they've deployed roughly three thousand troops groundside and are now occupying eighty-two percent of all populated area's on the planet."
Claire crossed her arms across her chest as she studied the diagrams on the view screen. "Occupation? That's not the Covenant's style."
"Their battle net was loosely encrypted, very easy to hack. It appears they are searching for something."
"What?"
"Well, if I knew that, I would have told you first, wouldn't I?"
"Alright, true. So, what can you tell me?"
"We've had intermittent contact with UNSC forces from the planet's local garrison. Covenant own most of the cities, but it hasn't been an easy fight. Specifically, in this city," the city in question glowed bright blue, "Romagna. Reports indicate that the advance into the city has been slowed and even halted by guerilla attacks."
Claire whistled appreciatively. "Any idea why?"
"Troop reports speak of one soldier in particular. The translations rough, but the Covenant refer to him as a 'Demon'."
Commander Rios furrowed her brow. "'Demon'? I've heard that before. It's what the Covenant refer to Spartans as."
Claire smiled. "Figures. The Covenant must be really scared of the Spartans."
"While sketchy, reports indicate that this one Spartan alone is responsible for over one hundred troops KIA."
"That doesn't explain why the Covenant are invading in the first place, or what they're looking for."
"Perhaps the Spartan can answer your questions, Lieutenant." Domovoi said calmly.
Commander Rios stepped in. "You're platoon is spearheading the reinforcements. Straight drop, one pass over Romagna, directly into the inner city. Once on the ground, I want you to link up with this Spartan and his guerilla fighters. Drive the Covenant out. Take the city back."
Claire nodded. "Sounds fine by me, but with all due respect Commander, the Covenant ships aren't going to just sit by while you drop us off."
Commander Rios matched Claire's dubious look with a calm, detached gaze. "I fully realize that. I've already radioed for reinforcements; elements from the 4th Fleet are already en route and will be here within the hour." She favored the Lieutenant with a small smile. "I assure you, Avalos, I've faced worse odds. I suggest you start worrying about your own assignment."
Six on one with no reinforcements. Claire was starting to see how the Commander earned the nickname "Wonder Woman".
"Understood m'am."
The Commander shook Claire's hand. "Good luck down there, Lieutenant."
"Likewise, Commander."
Claire walked out of the bridge chewing her lip.
In the air, six ships on one frigate. On the ground, one undersized ODST battalion versus thousands of entrenched Covenant forces.
It might turn out to be worse than the Hydra incursion. Maybe.
Two hours earlier…
[11 September 2551]
[ONI Site Victor Charlie]
"They've breached the perimeter! Covenant Spec-Ops are inside the building and closing fast!"
"Talk to me, Jen. Has the system been purged?"
"Five more minutes, LT."
"Negative. We don't have that time."
He slams his fist onto the drive, forcibly drawing the data crystal from its locked position.
"Fuck! LT, there's still kilobytes of data in there-"
He draws his Automag and empties the clip into the drive. Sparks fly and the screen goes black.
"I'm initiating Cole's Protocol."
"What article of it!"
"I'll tell you as soon as I found out. Lee?"
"Sir!"
"Those charges we found in the armory. How long to prime them?"
"Depends. How much time to we have?"
"You have three minutes before this place becomes Covenant central. That enough?"
"…"
"Well?"
A different voice, nervous and high pitched. "Uh, sir? Sergeant Lee ran off to get demo charges. You need something?"
"No." He reloads his Automag, tosses Jen her suppressed SMG. "Let's go. If we can make it to the garage and the remaining Hogs, we can make it back in time to share a shower and a meal together."
She smiles ironically as she places on her helmet. "You're always such a sweet talker."
"Don't get used to it."
They race through the corridors, bypassing empty offices and trashed rooms. They practically fly down the stairs and finally reach the garage. Lee and three marines are carefully placing demo charges on the concrete pillars that hold the entire building up. Lee notices him and Jen and motion towards them. "Two demo charges on each pillar, enough explosives to blow us back to the Stone Age."
"I'm more hoping to blow the Covenant back to the Stone Age." He waves to the dozen or so Marines and motions to the three Troop Transport Hogs in the corner. "Mount up! We're out of here."
The soldiers pile in. Lee punches the button on the massive garage doors. Sunlight floods the dark underground passage, illuminating the blackness. Lee pauses as he picks up his gear from the ground. He is staring at something towards the rear of the garage. "Sir…?"
A trio of plasma bolts erupt from thin air, catching Lee in the chest. He slumps to the ground against a pillar, clutching at his gear and gasping.
"LEE!"
Covenant armored in space black armor come pouring down the entrance from above, firing plasma and yelling in their strange alien tongues. He crouches against his own pillar, firing his MA5C against the advancing horde.
"LT! Is Lee dead? Is he dead…?"
"Jen, get on the Hog. Get back to base. That Covenant can't get to that data!"
"LT…!"
"Go! Now! I'll cover you!"
Eyes stricken behind her visor, Jen sprints to the last Hog and jumps on board as they skid out of there.
"LT…" Lee cries over the comm.
"Sergeant, stay down!"
With a wrenching heave Lee hurls the demo charge he had been holding straight into the Covenant, and mashes down on the detonator. An enormous explosion rocks the underground hold, and the roof partially collapses. The Covenant are buried under the rubble.
He erupts from his cover and cradles the dying Spartan-III in his arms. The boy's helmet had fallen free, and his eyes are stricken. He's convulsing, locked in death's grips. He turns his gaze to him.
"F-fatal, isn't…isn't it?"
He nods gravely. "It is."
Lee gulps, gasping for air. "You…you shouldn't have s-stayed for me, LT. Sh-should have left, saved your own luh…life…"
"Maybe I figured my life wasn't worth saving if you or Jen weren't there to back me up."
Lee smiles. "B-bad karma, to talk about yah-your life that way, sir."
"You know I don't believe in that shit."
Lee smiles, painfully. "I wish I did." His eyes look in the middle distance. "I hope…I hope there's something more than stars and…and planets out there. I hope…augh…I hope there's something after this…I'd like to believe there's a heaven…that there's s-something more than this…"
Footsteps echo as chattering aliens swarm the ruined garage, begin to disarm the charges. He takes no notice as he watches Lee look into the middle distance, watch the life leave his eyes. He gently closes them. There was nothing more to be said.
A huge shadow looms over him. He looks up, smiles terribly at the ring of hard, ugly alien faces looking down at him.
"What took you so long?"
A space-black Elite lifts it's size twenty four hoof, bringing it down on his temple.
Quite suddenly, he finds the floor.
[11 September 2551]
[Angelus Orbit]
[1630 Hours]
The temperature inside the drop pod was quivering at the one hundred mark. Beads of sweat trickled down Claire's face as alternately cursed the pod and prayed that its rickety frame would hold together.
The comm. crackled to life, and Sugar's voice echoed over the channel. "1st, 2nd, and 3rd squad are in tight formation. 4th is loose, adjust trajectory, adjust, Sergeant Weeks!"
"Negative, Sugar. I'll compensate when the chute opens. Right now I'm not giving those Covenant fighters any juicy targets."
Claire pressed her hand to her ear. "Sugar, cut the chatter! Radio silence until we are groundside, understood?"
"Roger." He responded resolutely.
There was a burst of light as Charlie company, visible as a cluster of shiny dots on the sides of Claire's pod, broke away from the main formation and adjusted trajectory. Their target was Venezia, an occupied city situated on an archipelago roughly twenty clicks from her own drop zone.
One company per city…They would be stretched thin. Claire was already thinking her own job would be easy. Link up with the Spartan and his group, assist them in clean up.
She glanced briefly at her altitude gauge, and gripped the chute release. "Delta Platoon, on my mark. Three…two…one…mark!"
There was a sudden jerk as the chute caught the air in the atmosphere and the platoon's descent slowed.
All except for one pod at the edge of the formation. "Sergeant Weeks, deploy secondary chute!"
"Both are compromised. Can't control descent. No, no, NOOOO!"
Claire shut the channel off to stop the trooper's screams from ringing in her ear. The unspoken fear that gnawed at every ODST had just claimed another victim.
In her view screen, the city below grew larger and larger. The chute ripped, and Claire's heart leapt into her mouth as the air whistled past. The entire pod began to shudder, growing in crescendo until it broke with an earth shattering crash as Claire hit the middle of a wide open overpass. The opening hatch snapped off, and she emerged with her Assault Rifle raised.
Not fifty feet from her, a trio of Grunts and a single Jackal began assembling into battle positions. She hurled a grenade into the group, killing two Grunts right off the bat, and hosed the remaining aliens with automatic fire until they fell too. A thin smile touched her lips at the sloppiness of the Covenant troops.
Thundering crashes resonated as pods landed on the overpass and surrounding buildings. Katy emerged from hers, waved to Claire, and tapped her helmet. Claire keyed her comm. "You clear?"
"No contacts in the vicinity. Any eyes on Sugar?"
"What, worried about me Rawlings?" Sugar waved from where he had landed on a building nearby.
Claire smiled. "Sergeant Chigurh, get your ass down here. Assemble the platoon and let's start moving out."
"Roger, I'm…hang on, we've got contacts! Fast movers directly below you. They're closing in!"
"Helljumper's, on me!" Claire's mind raced. "Collins, get that SPNKR ready! Hudson, what's your twenty?"
"I hit a roof, LT. I'm setting up sniper cover now. Got eyes on the bogies, and they're…friendlies?"
There was a deep bellied roar as a single Warthog LRV skidded onto the overpass and ground to a halt in front of Claire. In the passenger seat, a tired looking Marine with a grimy, sweaty face stood up and saluted. "Sergeant Bridger, 224th Marine Battalion out of Romagna. We saw your pods come down. I'm guessing you're the reinforcements?"
Claire returned the salute and rattled off her rank and outfit. "I'm guessing you're the resistance?"
Sergeant Bridger smirked humorlessly. "Eh, what's left? We got about two hundred Marines and civilian fighters holed up in an inner city tram tunnel two clicks thataway," he said, jerking his thumb behind him. "We were out on patrol when we saw you guys coming down." He cocked his head. "One platoon, huh?"
"One crisis, one platoon." Claire said shortly. "Now are we supposed to just tag behind you while you lead us to your base, or are you offering a lady a ride?"
Sugar laughed loudly and abundantly over the comm. as he struggled down to ground level. Sergeant Bridger shrugged. "I guess you'll have to follow, m'am. LRV's aren't really built to accommodate platoon sized loads."
"Yeah, no shit Sherlock. So please, lead on." Claire waved her arm.
The Sergeant nodded slowly and sat back down as the LRV around. "Let's try to move fast. Covenant is all over this sector."
"Boy, someone's in a bad mood." Katy muttered over the private comm. chatter.
"He's just doing his job."
"Not Bridger over there, you. You usually have to know someone personally to insult them like that, LT."
"Noted." Claire muttered dryly as she adjusted the free plan of grenades on her equipment bandolier. "Now, unless you want to give me a full blown psychological assessment here, I suggest you stop running your mouth and start running your legs. Are we clear, Katy?"
"Yes m'am." Katy muttered, half to herself.
Any Covenant watching the back streets of Romagna would have been treated to the strange sight of a platoon of heavily armed and armored human shock troopers' double timing behind a snail paced Warthog. If the aliens had any sense of humor, they would have been rendered helpless with laughter at the sight. Let em laugh, Claire thought. They won't be laughing when they're staring down the business end of an Assault Rifle. Mine, Katy's, Sugar's, the Spartan's…let em laugh.
Finally, after a mile or so, the Hog paused at what appeared to be a ruined façade of a tram way station. Bridger keyed his headset. "This is Hog Patrol 01. Oly oly oxen free."
Four soldiers, two armed with Battle Rifles and two with Rocket Launchers, emerged from discreet hiding places in the ruins. "Hold on. What'd you drag back with you, Bridger?"
Claire stepped forward. "He dragged back your reinforcements, Marine. Unless, of course, you've got the situation well in hand. If that's the case then my platoon will just jump ourselves back to our ship and take off…"
"Alright, alright, jeez! I'm just doing my job here!" Grumbling, the abashed Marine motioned to his compatriots and disappeared. Some of the rubble shifted as a metal plate, ingeniously covered with debris for camouflage, was dragged away, exposing a large sized entrance into the base. Claire glanced towards Bridger. The Sergeant motioned forward. "Go on in. There's a separate entrance for vehicles around back. Catch ya later, Lieutenant."
Claire shook her head as the vehicle skidded up dirt and barreled away, then waved forward her platoon. "C'mon. Let's see what the situation is."
The situation, for lack of a better description, was bad.
The close fitting passage funneled the platoon through a dimly lit corridor and spilled out into a tram way platform that stretched for miles in either direction. A few portable generators provided heat and light, illuminating the hundreds of dirty faces that were sitting or standing on and around the platform. Over unwashed cheeks sunken eyes would glance at the newcomers, sometimes flashing with strange intensity, other times with dull misery. Most were Marines decked out in various degrees of battle armor, from full combat suits to only a vest and a bandanna. Some, however, were civilians, clad in amalgams of armor and street clothes, wielding everything from MA5 assault rifles to DTM law enforcement shotguns.
Claire removed her helmet and looked around. She began speaking quietly. "Lambert, start checking these people out, prioritize them by injuries. Collins, Harlow, talk with those Marines, see what kind of supplies they're working with." She looked around and grabbed hold of the nearest non com she could see. "Corporal, who's in charge here?"
The weary eyed Corporal pointed towards the back. "The Captain is. Good luck trying to talk to him, though. Fucker's true-blue Section Eight."
Impatience reared its ugly head. "Well if he's Section Eight then why is he in charge?"
"Cause he's ONI."
Claire must have conveyed surprise, because the Corporal laughed, a wheezing cough. "Surprised? Jeez, you really have no idea what's going on, do you?"
She narrowed her eyes. "How about you enlighten me then, Corporal?" She shoved him towards the direction he pointed. "C'mon. Make the introductions with your Captain."
The Corporal sighed and led her towards the back. A single bare bulb hung over a collapsible table. A lean, rangy man, dressed in dark ONI Recon armor, was leaning over the table, poring over papers and reports. The Corporal cleared his throat. "Eh, sir? Our relief has arrived. This is…" he looked back at Claire in vexation, realizing he had failed to ask her name.
It didn't seem to matter to the Captain. "Lieutenant Claire Avalos of the 105th ODST Division doesn't require an introduction here, certainly not from the likes from you." He said in a breezy voice.
Claire drew a sharp intake of breath. The ONI Captain swiveled with the light to his back. Calm, detached blue eyes studied her. "Nor do I need to be introduced to a woman I used to know intimately."
Claire folded her arms. "Charming as ever, Matthew. It'd be even more charming if that was the first time I'd heard it."
"O-o-oh, so it was charming to begin with? And hear I was thinking that your last good-bye of 'I hope we never have to meet again in this whole goddamn galaxy, Matthew' indicated you thought otherwise?"
Claire refused the bait; that "nuclear test" with Matt had long made her accustomed to his new found existential speech patterns.
"I guess it was my fault then. I should have known this galaxy was too small for the both of us. Now, I came here to relieve you guys. Are you going to fill me in, or are we going to bicker like an old married couple all afternoon?"
"Ladies choice." Matt waved his arms in a chivalrous gesture.
Claire moved closer, shuffling through the papers that Matt had been previously studying. "Then the lady chooses to get the run-down on the situation."
"Hmmm, much more assertive this time around, Claire. David would hardly recognize you the way you are."
Claire's hands froze on a pile of inventory reports.
Of course, she thought, one Spartan on the ground? ONI here as well? Stupid, Claire, stupid, stupid…
She tried to control her response. "He's here?"
"Was here."
"What do you mean?"
"Exactly how it sounds, sweetheart. Here yesterday, gone today. Like a little predator bird, he moved on."
Claire suddenly whirled around and slammed Matt against the wall. He was still a good six inches above her, she still managed to bear him down. "Where…is…he?" She grated.
Matt eyed her with disinterest. "We landed as soon as the Covenant showed up. They detected our ship and blew it out of the sky, then cut off interstellar communications. There were four of us: David, Lee, Jennifer, and myself. Once it became clear the Covenant were invading instead of barbecuing, we made our way inner city and began organizing what Marine forces we could."
"I need more information. I need to know what the Covenant are looking for. I need to know why you're here. And I want to know where David went."
"I've no idea what the local Covies are searching for. They've been razing superstructures with ultra heavy weapons platforms and killing anyone too stupid to move out of their way. As for why were here: Cole Protocol."
"Cole Protocol?"
"Yep."
"What article?"
"Pfff…don't bore me with details. Details and plans slow things down when they need to accelerated to warp speed. This is the situation. Its catalyst is bombs, gasoline, det-cord, and nuclear fire."
"Where?" She snarled. Her fingers curled into claws, clutching at his uniform.
"ONI Site Victor Charlie, five clicks to the southwest. It contains a data vault that would be an unfortunate gold mine if certain aliens got a hold of it. I would destroy the site after flushing the system while David organized things here. But as you can probably tell, our roles were switched."
"Is he alright?"
"He left at dawn with Lee, Jen, and a dozen or so Marines. He reported in on half hour intervals and assured me he'd bee back by noon."
Claire's heart froze. David was the consummate professional. If he said he would be back by noon, he would be, on the dot. But if he wasn't…
"Most likely he's dead. Scorched by Covies plasma or captured by Covies or trapped at Victor Charlie and decided to go down in flames. I wouldn't be surprised, the depression he's been in lately." Something like curiosity flitted across the glacial blue eyes. "When you were declared dead, he became a machine. Nothing but focused muscle and nerve. Didn't care how much danger there was, didn't care if he didn't come back, just cared about how much blood he spilled. Didn't even care if it wasn't Covenant blood. Just wanted to inflict as much pain on the galaxy as he was feeling in his chest."
Claire shuddered. A thousand thoughts were racing through her head. Finally she looked up. "Give me exact coordinates. I'm going."
"No chance. David may be borderline suicidal, but sloppy he was never. That building does not exist anymore."
"You're pretty calm considering your only friend might not exist anymore." She spat.
"Friend is a generous term. After our little encounter he barely tolerated the sight of me. I was usually gone, so it didn't really matter." Matt twisted out of her grip and rubbed his collarbone. "You should be thanking me, you know. I allowed him to go to on without me, despite my anxious pleas to the contrary. With any luck, he's finally found the peace in his death he couldn't find in the wake of your death."
A red haze filled Claire's vision. But before she could even begin the massacre, a stricken voice echoed from the tunnel. "Captain!"
A bloodied figure, a miniature Spartan, stumbled to a halt. She had pulled off her helmet, revealing short blonde hair cut in a fringe above the nape of her neck and red rimmed brown eyes. "Captain, we retrieved the data crystal. The Lieutenant and Lee stayed behind to cover us."
Matt paid no mind to the Spartans babbling as he took the data crystal from her. "They were still alive when you left?"
"Yes, sir."
Matt turned to Claire. "You're really willing to risk your life to chase down a man that might already be dead?"
Claire grit her teeth. "He'd do the same for me."
"Then go. Take a team, a Hog, find them if you can. Once your topside, you're on your own."
Claire picked up her helmet and adjusted her assault rifle. "I'll find him." She turned to leave. Instantly the diminutive Spartan Jennifer besieged her. "LT, request permission to tag along."
Claire eyed the girl; she was an inch or so shorter than Claire herself. Her eyes were weary but determined. "Welcome aboard, Corporal."
Jennifer smiled and put her helmet back on.
Within ten minutes Claire had shifted command of the platoon over to Sugar, briefed Claire and two other soldiers on the situation, and were thundering through the silent streets in a Troop Transport Hog, upgraded with crudely welded armor plates.
Claire sat at the wheel. Her hardened eyes focused solely on the road.
Nothing else mattered now; not her previous assignment, not the battle in the stars overhead, or the urban warzone all around her. None of it even bordered on important in her mind.
Hold on David. We're coming.
[11 September 2551]
[ONI Site Victor Charlie]
[1705 Hours]
Contemplation was the only thing running through David's head as he sat, head lolling, tied to a metal chair in a lower level office surrounded by whispering aliens.
Contemplation.
Where had it all gone wrong? How had it come to this, where he didn't care whether he lived or died? When did he wake up, look in the mirror, and see a ghost of himself staring back?
Claire had happened. The petite ODST had cut through his mental armor and found a person underneath it. He had allowed himself to be that vulnerable, knowing full well how it would end. And then she died, he thought almost accusingly, she died, and a part of me died with her. Goddamnit…
"Wake up." An armored claw slapped him across the cheek, drawing fresh blood. David responded by hocking a blood laced loogie at the Elite's now familiar hooves.
"Regards from my aching head, you bastard."
Behind them, a bulging Brute chortled happily.
The Elite, in turn, landed an uppercut that forced David's head up painfully. He smiled to himself. Inexperienced, this one. Likes the bloodshed a little too much. No control, easy to get under his skin. David found himself staring into a pair of narrow hard brown eyes, sunk deep into bluish gray skin.
The Elite spoke slowly, his words being translated through the built-in translator in David's armor. "Understand this, Demon. Your sole purpose for living now is to relinquish the location of your brethren. When you do- and you will, not matter how strong your courage may be- we will destroy them, and you will die."
David shook his head pityingly. "See, you just made your second mistake. Once you tell a hostage that he's going to die, you've taken away any incentive to be cooperative."
The Elite's eyes glowed with barely controlled hate. His raspy voice was condescending. "And, pray tell, what was our first mistake?"
"Your first mistake was taking me alive at all." He looked up into the alien face only inches from his. "You bastards killed my friends. You've taken away pretty much everything I've ever cared about. That's the worse thing you can do."
"Why is that?"
"The most dangerous opponent is one who's not afraid of death." David looked up into the harsh light of the bulb above him. "Just so you know."
The Elite cuffed him soundly, swearing at him in his alien language. David coughed, spitting up blood. He looked up again. "Did I…do something…to you…personally…?" He turned his head and sneezed blood. "Cause I'm starting to think…that you…have a particular hatred…for me."
The Elite glared, mandibles flaring. He clicked them, an equivalent to a shrug. "You killed a friend of mine."
David licked his lips, trying to clear the blood. "I've killed a lot of Elites. You're going to have to be more specific…"
With a roar, the Elite slammed his fist into David's abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. David coughed, painfully.
"Iras!" The Elite snapped viciously. "Iras Peccamee! Don't tell me you don't know his name, because by the Great Rings he knew yours!"
David coughed once more, then shook his head and looked up. "You were a friend of his?"
"Yes, Demon, I was."
"He talked about me?"
"All he would talk about!" The Elite spat angrily.
David looked at him curiously. "Funny…he never mentioned…you. Who are you?"
"Sev Rolamee." The Spec-Ops elite growled quietly. "Iras was my mentor."
Anger issues, check, David thought. Daddy issues, check. Emotionally compromised, check.
As if voicing these thoughts, the Brute behind him slapped him in the back of the head and snarled at Sev, "Get on with it Sev. The Scarab will be deployed sooner than not. Whatever we need from this crypt had better be in our hands by then.
Scarab? Ah, that complicates things a bit.
"Silence your tongue, Gracchus, or I will remove it with my own blade!" The Elite roared.
"Hahah, I'd like to see you try, you incompetent lizard…."
Sev's eyes bulged in rage. David chose the moment to act. "Uh, hello, Demon still strapped down here?"
The mad gleaming eyes turned towards him. "What?"
David sighed. "If you were Iras's protégé, then you should know he was a cold blooded maniac who killed a lot of innocent people. I'm just saying…"
The Elite took one step forward and raked David's cheek with his sharp claws. He felt wet blood stain his neck. "Ouch. You should really learn to control that temper of yours Sev. Otherwise you might accidentally kill me, and then you'll get nothing of use."
Sev grabbed him by the neck. "Iras was a proud warrior, cleansing the stars of your parasitic race. He was like a father to me. And he was killed by an unworthy human in a special suit…"
David smiled sweetly. "He was a cold blooded killer just like me. And if you think he was killed by an unworthy opponent, then he clearly didn't tell you about all those times we tangled and called it a draw. Ever wonder how he lost his eye or his lower mandible?" He feinted shock at the widening of the young Elite's eyes. "What? He never told you it was me? For him being like a father to you, he obviously didn't trust you or care enough about you to tell you…."
Sev said nothing as his claw tightened around David's neck. David continued, undeterred by his dropping air supply. "The truth is, Sev Rolamee, is that I probably knew your precious 'father' better than you ever wished you could. The truth is he probably thought more of me as an opponent than he ever thought of you as a 'son'. The truth is that he cared more about me than he ever did about you, which is why you hate the very thought of me. So go ahead," he gasped as his larynx began to tighten, "make my day."
The Elite's eyes gleamed madly. "With pleasure, David."
Gracchus the Brute grabbed Sev's arm. "Damn you, you bastard!" He shoved the Spec-Ops Elite away. "He wants you to kill him. Your commander would prefer you did not." He glanced at David, and suddenly landed a blow that toppled David over onto the floor. Blood streaked saliva seeped out of the corner of his mouth.
The Brute stood over the human. "Well, I can't kill you, but I can do everything but."
"Oh, can you?" David muttered.
"I can." He reached a mitt sized paw for him.
In the small room, the plasma pistol sounded as loud as M6D Pistol. The Brute, minus most of his face, toppled to the side. David had enough time to register shock in the beasts one remaining eye before it landed to his right.
Sev stood over the body. His chest was heaving, his plasma pistol was emptying excess heat from its core. "I told you to stay silent Gracchus."
David glanced from Elite to dead Brute. "Hmm, shooting one of your comrades. He was right: you are incompetent."
The Elite turned his attention to David, madness still shining in his eyes. He tossed the pistol aside and his Energy Sword from his belt. With one whoosh, he cut through the energy bonds holding him in place, David collapsed to the floor, unconsciously stretching his cramped legs.
"GET UP!" Sev roared. "Get up, Demon, and prepare to meet your fate! You are about to find out what happens when you give an Elite a reason to kill!"
"Really?" he croaked. "Well, you're about to find out why you never untie prisoners with only one guard in the room."
Leaping away and to his feet, David yanked a Plasma Pistol off the dead Brute's belt. Mashing down on the trigger, he allowed a glowing gob of plasma to gather at the muzzle, then discharged it straight at the Elite.
The bolt hit the surprised Elite, destroying his shields and burning a hole in his armor. The Elite stumbled and cried out in pain.
By the time he looked back up, David was gone.
The Spartan tore through the darkened halls, plasma pistol clutched in one hand, helmet in the other. Blood seeped from various cuts and sores, covering his face and even getting into his eyes. He wiped them clean with hands that shook from exhaustion.
He ran into a pack of Grunts, black armored veterans that nonetheless squeaked in fear at the sight of him. He took out the first by slamming his helmet into its skull, crushing it. The other two he hosed down with plasma fire. Pausing to pick up a second plasma pistol, he continued his tortured race through the complex.
The garage…have to get to the garage…
But what was the point? Escape, then try to get back to base? Get ready for the Scarab? But what for? To defend a planet that had no hope at all? To protect a species that held no love for him at all? To fulfill Bristow's instructions, "Never Yield"?
Face it, he thought numbly as he ran, the only thing keeping you going is that old saw "Never Yield". You're already dead, you're a corpse waiting to be sent back to its grave. So why not stand my ground, take on this psychopath Elite, go down in a blaze of glory?
Never Yield, that's why.
He clambered over rubble into the entrance of the garage just as the inhuman roar reached his ears.
"DEEEEEMMMMMOOOOONNNNN!"
A gang of Covenant regulars, Elites, Grunts, and Jackals were gathered in the area, apprehensive at the sound of that call. David decided to take advantage of their indecision.
The first Grunt looked up just in time to catch a face full of MJOLNIR helmet. The Elite standing next to him didn't have time to react as the Spartan closed distance, twisted the Carbine in the alien's claws, and shoved the barrel under the creatures chin. Pew! The high speed radioactive round punched a neat hole through the Elites cobalt helmet, killing it instantly.
David spun in a circle, firing his borrowed Carbine with one hand while his other hand swung his helmet in long, brutal blows that sent Grunts toppling and snapped Jackal's necks. He caved in one unfortunate alien's skull, put two Carbine rounds through a second Elites helmet, grabbed a crouched Jackal and hurled him into the air, pumping round after round into him as he flew.
A terrible roar sounded nearby, and David swiveled, crouched, and brought his Carbine to bear, just in time to parry the blow that Sev was about to land. The crazed Elite had somehow doubled back and leapt off an overturned Warthog to deal a killing blow with his Energy Sword. He only succeeded in slicing David's Carbine in half.
David rolled away and came up with two borrowed Plasma Pistol's in his hands, their muzzles glowing with overcharged bolts. Zing! Zing! The superheated energy hit Sev like hammer blows, in his shoulder, in his leg, forcing him to one knee. He cried out in pain and struggled to rise.
David fired a single bolt that hit the Elite's claw, forcing him to drop his energy sword. Sev looked up, eyes no longer shining with madness, but dulled with bleak misery. It was the face of a soldier facing a firing squad, resigned to his fate.
Quite suddenly dizziness engulfed David. He fell to his own knees, his breathing hitched and uneven. He felt the first indications of faintness setting in. Blood Loss City; he must have lost a lot more hemoglobin than he realized. He dropped the pistol in his left hand and trained the weapon in his right on the wounded Elite in front of him. His eyes dropped to the deactivated energy sword between them.
"You wanna…go for it, Sev boy? I can see it in your eyes…you're thinking about it." He murmured.
The Elite bared his mandibles in a look of what must have been defiance. "Kill me, Demon, but don't waste my time with talk."
There was little energy left in the Plasma Pistol, only enough for maybe one shot. David could feel the trigger on his fore finger. One little squeeze and the Elite would fall with a hole in his head, never to rise again.
Never Yield…
David could hear voices, far off, along with the roar of a vehicles engine. The room was spinning all around him. The Elite in front of him looked blurry around the edges, as if he were looking at him through a foggy window. He coughed up blood, reeling like a drunk. He could hear the Elite's breathing, fast and heavy with…fear?
The pistol slipped out of his numb fingers and clattered to the ground. He fell back on his haunches, blood dripping from his wounds. The Elite stared at him, eyes disbelieving.
"Get the hell out of here." David croaked.
The Elite stared at him for a few seconds more, his face inscrutable, then, turning as if he heard something, got up with difficulty and began half limping, half running, activating his cloak as he went. Within five seconds David was alone in the semi-darkness of the garage.
The Spartan fell to his side, the cool concrete kissing his burning wounds. His helmet lay a few feet off. His eyes were cloudy with exhaustion and faintness. He coughed up blood, almost choking on it. The light began fading, the pain was starting to disappear.
"Claire…" he breathed. "I'm on my way."
Lee's words rang in his ears. I hope…there's something after this…
I hope so too.
"David?"
He could almost hear her voice now. Another few moments, and it would be all over. A thin smile crept over David's bloodstained mouth.
"David?"
Wait, that sounded too close…
Boots clattered over concrete as several people came rushing towards him. He felt gloved hands roll him over onto his back. A ring of dark helmets with reflective visors surrounded him.
"David…"
One of the helmets came off, revealing beautiful, pale features, raven dark hair tied back into a ponytail, and emerald green eyes frantically searching his face.
He was dead. This was a hallucination that acted as a transition to the afterlife. This had to be…
"David…" she whispered, and he felt a gloved hand clutch his armored gauntlet. A real, live gloved hand.
This wasn't a hallucination.
He blinked and opened his eyes fully. "You're…supposed to be dead," he gurgled.
Claire Avalos smiled through the tears gathering in her eyes. "That makes two of us, then."
[11 September 2551]
[ONI Site Victor Charlie]
[1720 Hours]
"I can't believe this…"
"Start believing. Anybody have any water?"
One of the ODSTs handed him a canteen. The water felt cool and sweet against his parched and bloody throat. He drank half and splashed the rest on his face, trying to shake the blood off.
Claire laid a hand on his shoulder. "Here, try this." She took a scrap of cloth from one of her pouches and gently began wiping away the blood. He winced.
"I barely touched you."
"Yeah, yeah, gently, gently, please."
"Hold still." She managed to clean away the worst of the grime. She paused on the cuts. "My god…"
"Its not as bad as it looks." He grunted, and turned away. "You still haven't explained much."
"There's not much to explain."
"Besides the fact that you are listed KIA along with the rest of the Wolfs Sun?"
"That…tell you what, lets get out of here in one piece, and I'll give you the full story. Deal?"
"Fine." He stood up and was about to pull on his helmet when Jen pushed through the rest.
"LT!" She stopped short when he looked up. She had taken off her own helmet and her eyes went wide.
David grinned. "Jen…please, stop staring. You're making me blush."
She said nothing as she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. The ODSTs shifted and looked away. Claire arched her eyebrow.
"Lee's dead." He whispered into her ear.
"I know. I picked up his ID tag."
David hung his head. "I'm sorry."
"Isn't your fault." She murmured.
"Yeah, well, it feels like it is."
"I told you to stop that."
"A Sergeant giving a Lieutenant orders? That's not the way it works." He shifted uncomfortably. "Jen, c'mon, you're making the Helljumper's nervous." He pushed her away, albeit gently.
The smaller Spartan's shoulders slumped. "Yeah, you're right."
Claire cleared her throat. "We should probably think about leaving, huh?"
David shook his head as he donned his helmet. "Not yet. We have to reset these demolition charges to knock this building down…" he motioned around the pillars.
"That's right. You came here to enforce Cole Protocol. What increment of it are you enforcing exactly?" Claire said dubiously.
"Increment One Dash Doesn't Matter." David said shortly. "It involves blowing this building up. Now, we just need to reset the charges and haul ass…"
His voice trailed off as the ground beneath their feet trembled. High above them, a massive roar echoed.
"What the hell is that?" One ODST asked.
Katy piped up. "Sounds like gunships. Covenant gunships. It almost sounds like they're leaving the area…"
"Why would they be leaving?" Another ODST asked.
David clenched his fists. "Why do rats desert a ship?"
Claire grit her teeth. "Because its sinking." She slapped on her helmet and motioned to her team. "Team, lets move out!"
They raced to the garage exit, partially blocked by rubble. David could barely make out a small gap that the team had cleared away to get in.
"David, what the hell is it?"
"Most likely an anti-matter charge. Hold on." He grabbed a particularly big piece of rubble, grunted, and heaved it away. He motioned towards Claire and Jen. "Ladies first."
The ODST behind him cursed. "Are you fucking shitting me?"
Forty-five seconds later the building imploded from the inside. All ten stories of it collapsed like a stack of cards, crumbling to ground zero in gout of dust and fire. The falling dusk was suddenly illuminated with the flaring white light.
David shielded his eyes, even though they were protected by his visor. His frame jolted as the Warthog hit a bump. Beside him, Jen gripped his arm and laid her head on his shoulder.
"Do you think Lee would have liked going down in flames?" She whispered.
David grasped her hand. "I think he'd appreciate the gesture. Might have been bothered that it was a Covenant bomb and not his own."
"Yeah, he wouldn't have liked that part." She nuzzled into his neck. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Lieutenant."
David glanced over his shoulder. Claire was sitting in the front passenger seat. Her shoulders were slumped, she looked exhausted in the darkening night, but she was real, tangible, alive and in one piece.
Welcome back indeed.