Away to Distant Mountains
1914, December 12th, 2547 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ Colonist planet, Turfor City
Sooner than we know it, our resting time is up and we're thrown right back into the fray.
Our next mission is a city about ready to be in trouble from the Covenant. It's a distant colony that would normally not call upon the UNSC for help.
They gave specific instructions, though. They specifically asked for two teams of ODST's but no Marines. Our superiors suspect that they don't want too many UNSC people on their turf.
But instead of two teams of ODST's, they will be sending a single team of ODST's and two additional teams of Spartans.
Zeta and my team were chosen for this task, given our experience with distant missions. We were told to be ready for a two month trip in cryo-sleep and an additional few days fighting on the planet. Jameson told us to obey the Colonist leaders as much as we could, but to still stay on edge. We all found it suspicious that they weren't telling us what was going on. While we are still ready to give us help, we need to be aware of a possible trap.
With these warnings in our heads, we meet up with the UNSC Fading Aurora and get a tour from the Captain himself. We are instructed to leave our armor behind in an assigned storage bay because not many people are aware of the Spartan presence yet. We are used to this treatment, and readily obey.
The warship holds a heavy arsenal both inside and outside of its hull. Alongside its Navy crew, the single team of fifteen ODST's are stationed inside of a barracks room. The ship itself is rather large, but its insides are cramped and short.
We also meet the AI assigned to the Fading Aurora. He's a "dumb" AI by the name of Amsterdam. He runs the extra systems and would plot weapon trajectories if we get into a fight. He's both a convenience and an important piece of technology.
After the tour, we strip and ready ourselves for the long trip to the planet. I find my anxiety getting to me once I see the tubes, but force myself to be strong and enter it without any complaints. My breathing slows once the hatch shuts and the air temperature fogs my thoughts. Soon enough, I am plunged into a dreamless sleep, to be eventually woken at the doctor's expense.
Once I am finally revived, I find myself lurching forwards and slamming into the partially thawed glass. Seeing as how it was still mostly frozen, my body smashes right through the fragile material and I end up on my hands and knees trying not to vomit all over myself. The doctors help me up and explain that the ship is being attacked and we had to be unceremoniously thawed. A commanding ODST had greeted us on the scene and tells me that we'll be dropping in with the SOIV's from orbit as soon as we're suited.
After regaining my bearings, I look around to see the other Spartans emerging from their tubes, looking groggy and half-awake. "Spartans, no time for wake-up. The ship's under attack and we're needed with the ODST's," I tell the others. The hull bucks underneath our feet from a particularly heavy hit and nearly throws us to our feet. "Let me guess, insertion?" Arnold asks, stretching his arms to shake out the lasting effects of the freeze. "SOIV's," I say, watching the seven other Spartans wake up. "Time's wasting. The longer we stand here, the more civilians that are killed," Zeke says and rushes out of the room. We follow after him and are suited, armed, and ready in the ODST drop room within ten minutes.
The Commander greets the eight of us once we see the SOIV's. "How many of you have been in these before?" He asks, cradling his helmet under his arm. "These four haven't," Jacobs says, jerking a thumb towards my team and I. The Commander nods and places his helmet on his head. "Not much to be prepared for. Get in, close the hatch, hold on to your asses, and try not to die," he says. He then turns around and readies with his men.
I approach an empty drop-pod, grab a side-bar, and swing myself into the seat. The pod shudders at the weight of my armor and I momentarily think that it will break free of the clamps. The pod holds and I watch as the others ready themselves in their own SOIV's.
"Prepare for launch," a voice calls over the pod's speakers. With that warning, I close the hatch and turn on the systems. Zeke and the ODST Commander's face appears on two separate screens on either side of my vision, their helmets filling the screen. "The light is green, Marines. Semper Fi!" the Commander says right before the clamps are released and we are ejected through the launch tube and out into space.
There is a moment of inertia right before the massive planet comes into view, alongside a fleet of Covenant ships and flaring plasma missiles sizzling in the air around us. I hold tight into the grips inside of the pod and grit my teeth as I watch the other pods around me plummet into the planet's orbit.
"Cruiser coming up at a 90 degree angle. I suggest Pods three, eight, and six redirect course to avoid becoming roadkill," The ODST commander says through the vehicles communications system.
I realize too late that I am one of the ones he had warned, and look out of the window to see the cruiser speeding up at me. I take the manual control and aim for the swooping ring on the side of the ship. I release the controls and let the momentum and trajectory guide me through the tiny gap, and safely below the Cruiser where I drop out of its firing range before it even knew what had just happened.
The Pod is incredibly hot by now. The planet below is obscured by a fiery red haze as the temperature sky-rockets and makes me feel as if I'm boiling alive. My concerns are shifted when a group of Banshees set their deadly sights on our group and decide to drop the flies from the sky.
"Enemy fire! Enemy fire!" one of the ODST's frantically calls. I watch as a Banshee releases is payload and swoops away. The green missile slams into the side of a pod and the vehicle disintergrates in a gout of fire. "Keep on target!" The commander calls from within his own pod far below us, leading the charge. The insistent fire from the Banshees rains down on my pod, but miraculously I'm not hit. Another ODST isn't so fortunate, however. A flurry of rapid bursts from the Banshee's main guns blisters the hull and shreds the side. I can briefly see the ODST inside before the vehicle tumbles widly off-course where it eventually bursts into flames as the wreckage falls at an uncontrolled rate.
"Shit. I'm hit!" 211 yells over the communications channel. "I've lost my breaks. Damn it."
I glance over at 211's pod and see the useless propellers hanging over the top of his SOIV once he had tried to deploy them. "Lock your armor and brace for impact. We'll meet up once our boots hit dirt," I tell the Spartan. "Roger that, Jackson. Lets just hope the Covies don't have another idea, eh?"
His pod falls out of view as I slow my descent using the propellers. The fire consuming the bottom of the pod dissapates, but the metal is still searing hot.
A last-second bombing run by the Banshees leaves Zeta's pods spiraling out of control in separate directions that are wildly off-course to our LZ. "New landing conditions, Zeta. Prepare for a rough entry," Zeke says calmly. "Not this again! It happens every damn time," Arnold exclaims. I glance down to see his IFF tag way below us and spinning crazily. "Oh boy. Brace for impact, Zeta!" Jacobs says with a chuckle. "We'll meet up later, Jackson. Advance without us," Zeke says, his tone strained. I can only grit my teeth in frustration and nod obediently. "Alright. Good luck," I reply.
The ground is very suddenly rushing up at me once I break through the cloud layer. I brace for the landing, as we were taught, and get ready for a bone jarring impact.
The hit comes swift and fast. My knees seem to go through my chest and it feels as if my head had just been slammed into the ground. But ignoring the sensation, I break out of my restraints and instantly leave the pod with my weapon drawn.
I had knocked out three Grunts with my landing, but two Elites still remain and have already begun firing on me. I return the favor and unload my entire AR clip into their shields before finishing them off.
The ground reverberates with repetitive thuds as the other Pods drop seconds after I do. I glance out of the corner of my eye to see the ODST's emerging from their battered pods, half disoriented. Zeta, however, emerges seemingly without discomfort and helps secure the perimeter.
"Where did 211 hit?" I ask Kia as she approaches me. "Half a mile out. If he's still alive, he should be here within ten minutes," Kia responds.
"We're two men down, sir. Xaxio and Frank bit it. No other casualties or injuries," I hear one of the ODST's report to the commander. "Good. Get Fizer and James watching our backs. We march on the courtyard in fifteen," The commander says and turns to me. "Your soldier has got fourteen minutes until he is left behind. No exceptions, Spartan."
I nod to him and look out towards the outer zone where 211 must have landed. "He'll be here sooner than that, sir. You won't have to wait on us," I tell him and take one last glance at the sky before meeting up with Kia who begins to discuss the battle plans.
"Recon reports from the snipers tells us that there are a pair of Hunters with an Elite General. We've got footsoldiers abundant and a single known sniper emplacement by this balcony here. Commander Yeiyen said that we will need to secure the Courtyard for an LZ," Kia says, showing me a holographic map as she speaks. Parkson approaches us and slings his gun as he begins to sign to Kia. "Alright. Parkson said that the Mayor is nearby and wants to meet with us once we secure the area. I'm willing to assume that it's about the situation down here, you?" the female Spartan asks, looking up at me. "Yeah. That's a safe bet. We'll find out soon once 211 gets back," I reply.
Six minutes later, 211 appears from the rear. His armor is specked with alien blood and he has a crack running through his visor. "Long story, don't ask," he says, waving his hand. "What's our objective?"
I jerk my chin towards the buildings that shield the wide courtyard just beyond. "We are clearing an LZ for the incoming colonist troops. The Mayor said he wants to speak with us," I answer and call to the Commander. "Sir! We're ready to move out."
After rallying his soldiers, the Commander moves all of us up to the Courtyard. "Hold up, Commander," I say and approach him. "My team and I will flank around and hit them from the rear. Once we've started, you join in," I say. The Commander doesn't look at all pleased by this. "And what makes you think they don't be ready for that?" he says, his tone almost challenging. "With all due respect, sir, we've done this before," I answer. He looks about ready to argue again, but decides against it and doesn't protest when I move my team into the alleyway behind the courtyard.
I map out a route to a balcony that overlooks the area below and lead my team through a series of blasted holes and crumbling staircases. To my surprise, there are a few Jackals sleeping in the wide room just before the balcony. The others had seen them at the same time and stop quietly and wait for orders.
The plan is that Parkson will throw a frag, count to five, and go inside and take out the Jackals on the right. Kia will follow by taking down the group on the left. 211 and I will kill the stragglers.
The plan goes down without a hitch, and soon we're standing in a room full of bodies. The plan had also drawn the attention I was hoping for and over a dozen heads turn towards our section of the buildings.
Orders are thrown and soldiers move out to check out the source of the noise.
211 stations himself right next to the staircase leading to the level below. Parkson is across from him and Kia crouches right across from it with her Sniper rifle, ready to pop the head off of the first thing that enters.
I count off the minutes as we wait in tense silence, and stop at one and a half once the muzzle flash of 211's shotgun fills the room and rams buckshot into the bulky chest of an Elite Minor.
The body flies back and nearly flattens the group of Grunts who scream in terror as Parkson chucks down a grenade which bounces off of the wall and hurtles down the stairs, eventually detonating with a strong vibration that shakes the walls.
The crack of Kia's Rifle is nearly deafening once an Elite with a sword comes charging up the steps, taking them by the threes. His body is thrown back to reveal a third partner whom also meets the same fate. Finally, the enemies below get the hint and stop storming the stairs. At this point, I give the ODST Commander the go-ahead and wait for the other end to light up.
Once it does, I have 211 and Kia take the steps and have Parkson come with me to the balcony.
Parkson nods to a shut window and proceeds to kick it out. The shattered glass falls away from his boot and falls onto the balcony's floor where it crunches underfoot.
Parkson takes out a large grenade and chucks it over, arcing it perfectly so that it lands in the middle of a phalanx of Jackals. The splash hits a nearby Elite and I don't hesitate to quickly gun him down.
The ODST's storm into the courtyard and fan out around the perimeter, effectively trapping the Covenant inside a tight ring of gunfire. They put up a good fight, and three of the ODST's are gunned down. But in the end, all that is left are the two stubborn Hunters who fight back-to-back, valiantly holding off the tightening circle around them.
An ODST by the name of L. Miller produces a Rocket Launcher and empties the tubes into the exposed back of the second Hunter. Already having been damaged, the hulking creature is shredded by the highly explosive missiles and goes down with a final cry.
This doesn't bode well with its bond brother who gives an anguished cry and charges the nearest ODST's, nearly squashing one with its shield. The soldiers are forced back by its suicidal attacks and are just about pushed out of the Courtyard.
I hear thunder echoing behind me and turn around to see 211 charging at the door, going full-tilt. I can only get out of his way as he sprints through the door, vaults the balcony's edge, and falls the two stories straight to the ground. The sound of his body impacting to the ground startles everyone. But he had landed on his feet and hardly even lost momentum.
I watched, transfixed, as the Spartan closes the several yards to the distracted Hunter and suddenly launches himself into the air. With his free arm outstretched, 211 lands on the monster's back and secures his feet on its spines. It begins to thrash in rage before 211 empties his mag into the alien. Large gouts of orange intestines spray from the creature as it takes the hits. With a final blow from the butt of 211's gun, the Hunter topples and hits the ground with a thud.
211 jumps off, reloads his shotgun, looks up at me, and laughs. "Hunter hunted, am I right?" he says, obviously pleased with himself. I can't help but crack a smile at my crazed teammate and shake my head. "You could say that," I reply.
After a final sweep of the grounds, we set up an LZ and call in the waiting birds.
Five minutes later, four Pelicans drop from the sky and land in the open area. They unload their cargo and the colonist soldiers fill the area with weapons at the ready. After they do their own sweep, the Mayor steps out and approaches us with a sort of swagger authority figures tend to get. His expression tells us all that we need to know, he is pissed.
"What is the meaning of this? I specifically requested two Orbital Shock Troopers. Who are you, and what are you doing here?" he demands, directly approaching me. I look down at the man and put on my public-dealing-face to avoid destroying an already fragile situation. "We are adding extra precautions, sir. We did not want to send too many of our men into an unknown situation," I say. His face turns beet red and I can see 211 stiffling a laugh. "You think that I would lead your men to die?! Who do you think I am? I am not a traitor! If I wanted to kill any of you, I would have shot you out of the sky," the man growls.
"We don't mean any disrespect, it's just a precaution," I say, getting very annoyed at this point. And as the Mayor goes off on some rant I'm not listening to, 211 switches off his outer speakers and chuckles to us. "How can you take him seriously, Jackson? He looks like a fire hydrant. I wouldn't be surprised to see water bursting out of his ears any minute now," 211 says. "Plus he's so short. The tiny bastard doesn't even reach your chest!"
I smirk a little at this and am glad that I'm wearing a helmet, because that would have set him off again and I think the Mayor is starting to cool off a bit now. At least I think he is. I haven't been listening.
I finally tune back in to what the man is saying once he mentions the goal of our presence here.
"I doubt any of you simpletons would know, but we are at war. We want to take back our planet and avoid evacuation at all costs. I asked for only a small infantry team because the people here would be very upset with a bigger military influence," The mayor says, pausing for a moment.
"So what you're saying is, your people would rather die in a futile struggle rather than accept help winning a fairly easy battle?" 211 interrupts. The Mayor is obviously flabbergasted by this sudden accusation and struggles to find a response. "That is not what I said! We simply don't want-" the man starts, but 211 cuts him off again.
"You want go on struggling. Got it," the Spartan says, nodding his head. The Mayor, with face as red as a Tomato, steps right up to 211 and glares at his visor. Seeing as how 211 is nearly eight feet tall, and the mayor barely clears five feet, it's a funny thing to see. "If you don't drop the attitude, you'll find yourself dying in a hole in the ground!" The mayor hisses.
That does it for me. No one threatens my teammates. No one.
In the span of only a second, I unsheathe my knife, grab the Mayor by his throat, and shove him into a wall, but am careful to not break any of his bones. "Threaten any of my teammates again, and you'll be the one slowly dying in a hole. Got it?" I snarl. My combat knife presses dangerously close to his neck. I keep it off of his skin, but have it so that I could easily end him if he chose to rebel.
Being the semi-smart man that he is, the Mayor vigourously nods and struggles to agree with me. I drop the short man and turn to see more than half of the colonist soldiers with their weapons trained on us. 211, Parkson, and Kia had all drawn their weapons as well and are watching the soldiers tensely.
Dragging himself back up to his feet, the Mayor waves down the soldiers and takes a moment before re-addressing me in a much calmer manner. "There are several areas of interest that may serve to drive the Covenant off of the surface. One of these places we have been unable to infiltrate. It is a hydroelectric power plant located just off of the southern coast. It was used to provide power to an array of machines in the local area before the Covenant invaded. Now they have re-routed the power and are using it to fuel something big. By the reports from our scouts, we believe it is a Scarab. It would be a crippling blow to their movement if it was taken out. I expect you to accomplish this task, UNSC. I can give you the resources needed, if you wish," the Mayor says.
"Weapons and vehicles would be nice," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "Talk to Sergeant Gerrid about getting your supplies, then. I wish you good luck," the Mayor says and walks away. After he is gone, I look at the others and Kia subtly shakes her head. "I don't like this. Something's up, and it feels bad," she says. Parkson signs to Kia and she translates for him. "He agrees. Says the Mayor is hiding something."
211 just shrugs once I look at him and I have to think a moment before concluding my decision. "If something is wrong, we can't just leave a potential danger. Lets just keep our guard up and be ready for anything unexpected. We'll inform the Commander of our worries once we get going," I tell them.
After gearing up in their suspiciously impressive armory, we secure two Pelicans and begin to move out.
But as I am heading back for the bird, i catch a sillohuete watching me from a rooftop. Once I stop and look at it, the figure suddenly launches itself off of the three story roof. The person falls for a few moments and I think someone had just committed suicide. But seconds before the person hits, a jetpack fires and slows the impact until the Spartan lands gently on the ground.
Three other Spartans follow in the same manner and I find myself staring into the helmets of Fireteam Zeta. "What took you guys so long?" I ask them, finally relaxing and letting out a held breath. "Hiking fourteen miles takes a while, my friend," Arnold replies. "Sorry to scare you, Jackson. Just a few precautions is all," Zeke says. I cock my head and ask, "Precautions? For what?"
Zeke just pats me on the shoulder and jogs for the second Pelican, his team following closely behind.
It was originally planned that my team would take a Pelican separate from the ODST's, but Zeta decides on taking the second bird and stuffing us inside with the ODST's. We don't complain, and after a short pre-flight check, we're up and on our way to the plant.
With Parkson as the pilot, and 211 as his co-pilot, I am left with Kia in the trooper bay with the rest of the ODST team. I am reminded of my earlier years, being cramped in a Pelican with a full compliment of sweaty, ill-tempered marines, and have to shake my head at the thought. Back then, I didn't even know how much they were afraid of us because I was too naive. Now I fully understand the fears and distrust almost everybody harbors for us Spartan-II's. It's easy to deal with now and I just go around their emotions when on the field. Soldiers' emotions only go so far when you're being shot at.
We land a mile away from the plant because of the AA firepower surrounding the immediate area.
After a short trek, we approach the base and find surprisingly little guards around the front and rear entrances. Zeta comes up with a plan to approach from both ends. Zeta will be going in the back and we will storm the entrance with the ODST's.
There are two shade emplacements on the left and right with a full compliment of Jackals and Grunts. It strikes me as strange that there aren't any Elites to oversee the security and I make a mental note to do an extra sweep after the initial attack.
After scouting out the base, I look to the rest of the soldiers. "About twenty hostile contacts and two Shade emplacements. No Elites so far, so keep an eye out for them," I tell them and shift my gaze to the waiting Commander. "Any thoughts, sir?"
The ODST commander rolls his shoulders and pumps his shotgun, loading the shells into its chamber. "Give 'em hell!" A chorus of cheers follow this statement and it is then that we are ready for the attack.
While Zeta sneaks around the back, we pull distraction and storm the front gates. Kia had stayed up on the hill and, when signaled, drops the gunners of the shade turrets.
With those guns taken out, we are free to engage the enemy.
The Jackals with shields are the first to react and form a strong barricade on the front steps. With their impenetrable shields and constant barrage of plasma, it's hard to take them out. That is until 211 makes a mad dash for one of the Shade turrets. He swings himself into the seat and turns it on the line of enemies that had just realized what was going on behind them.
From on top of his vantage point, 211 rains hell on the Jackals. The plasma rounds thud into the cement and pepper the surface with bright purple impact points. The few Jackals that managed to jump out of the way of the Shade's plasma and the following lead barrage direct their fire at 211 and force him to abandon the turret before it blows up.
He rejoins Parkson and I behind a set of barricades, panting and laughing. "That was fun!" he says. "You're going to get killed one of these days by doing that," I say and lean around the barricade to throw a grenade into a throng of Grunts. "And it will so be worth it!" he laughs.
Once the numbers of enemies have dwindled, all three of us emerge from our cover and gun down the remaining few. I give the all-clear to Kia and she comes down from the hill with her Rifle slung across her back.
The ODST's clear the door and the immediate room within. Having gotten the all-clear from the Commander, we proceed inside. The air is much more humid in here and reminds me of when we were on the sea with Zeta.
Almost immediately after entering the room, Zeke contacts me through the TEAMCOM. "We've found the majority group. They're on the floor of a tunnel located near the rear of the facility. We won't proceed until you've arrived. We may need help to clear them" the squad leader says. "We still haven't located the Scarab yet. No signs of it. I think the Mayor might have been lying," Jacobs says. "We'll meet up with you soon. Blue team out," I say and cut the channel.
The creeping suspicion that the Mayor is up to something only grows with Zeta's report. But once again, I shove those thoughts aside and focus on the mission at hand.
The building is large and confusing. It's like a maze. But thanks to Kia's navigating, we find Zeta with no troubles. They are waiting behind a thick wall and looking over their battle plan.
"Tunnel's just inside," Zeke says, nodding towards the other door. I look to the ODST's and quickly come up with a plan of attack. "Commander, you and your men take up the front. We'll come up on your flank and cover your blind spots. If this goes well, it will be over in a few seconds," I tell the ODST. He has no arguments and waits for the order. "Kia, Parkson, I need you two up on the balcony. Make sure we're not side-swiped." The two Spartans nod and move out to reach the balcony in time. "We're going outside to secure the front entrance. We want a smooth exit, after all," Zeke says. "That's a good idea. Report back when the area's clear," I say. The Spartan team leaves and I can hear the distant rattle of gunfire as they fight back the enemies.
We then turn to the huge steel double doors that are securely locked. An ODST technician had been working on it while we were talking and had just gotten done. "Ready when you are," he says. I take out my Assault Rifle, check its bullets, and nod to the soldier.
Once the doors come open, we storm inside. The aliens never stood a chance. I walk as I shoot and find at least five Elites in my crosshairs for just a few seconds until they're gunned down. It's a smooth and effective operation. That is, until we hear movement on the other end of the tunnel.
A quick glance shows us the source of the noise. An entire attack force is storming up the wide entrance. Wraiths, Hunters, Elites, and Ghosts.
"Form up, Marines! We've got one helluva fight coming up," the Commander says to his soldiers. "Maybe not," 211 says and taps my shoulder. I look at him and follow his finger which is pointed upwards. My gaze is drawn to several large tubes directly overhead. The insides of them look water damaged. I look down at my feet and notice the fact that the tube is noticably smooth and built to move a certain liquid substance. Water. We're standing in the overflow drain.
"Kia, is there a control room nearby?" I ask the female Spartan. She is quiet a moment as she searches her blueprints and confirms that there is one on their level. "Perfect. You're going to need to flood this tunnel, Kia. Once we're out, shut the door and let those Covie bastards have what's coming to them," I tell the Spartan. She can only chuckle devilshly at this idea and immediately sets out for the control room.
"Alright, Marines. We're getting out of here. Get behind the door, we're flooding the tunnel," I say and back into the room we had just come from.
The alien attack team had gotten too close, and we find ourselves being barraged with plasma from the footsoldiers alongside the occasional morter fire from the Wraiths. We desperately fight them off and keep them from getting inside as Kia works on the overflow.
Just as an Elite throws a grenade, the doors bang shut and the Grenade thumps into it, detonating soon after and shaking the walls. "Alright boys, hold on to your hats. It's about to get wet," Kia says.
A distant rumbling fills the room and a few ODST's instinctively look upwards. They look a little distressed as the rumbling grows louder, but none of us are expecting the explosion that comes instantly after.
Judging from the intense rumbling and rushing that comes from the flooded tunnel, it's hard to believe anything survived that. The ODST's begin to cheer and celebrate the death of the attack force. I am even beginning to smile as well, but that is quickly broken once Kia comes over the TEAMCOM demanding help.
"Jackson! Get your ass up here NOW! Hunters got inside and Parkson is down. I think he's got a concussion," Kia says and pauses for a moment. An explosion echoes through the channel and I hear her grunt. "...I can't be sure, though. Just...get up here!"
I jerk my chin towards the stairs and 211 immediately gets going, shotgun held firmly in his hands. "We're coming. Hold on," I say and follow behind the other Spartan.
A handful of ODST's follow right behind us and arrive right behind us as we enter into the control room.
Two Hunters stand near the middle of the room and I see Parkson slumped over a console, blood flowing from a large crack in his visor and a dented chestplate.
The Hunter attacking Kia roars and charges the Spartan. She jumps to the side but had miscalculated the momentum and lands on her side, helpless only for a second. But a second is all the hulking creature needs. It whips around with its shield-arm held out and brings it down on Kia. The Spartan rolls aside, but isn't fast enough. I can hear the crack as the beast's shield crushes her left arm, completely pulverizing the armor and rendering her arm utterly useless.
The shriek of agony that follows is unbearable. She scrambles away from the beast, her arm dragging as she backs away. 211 once again charges the hunter and slams into the back of it with his shotgun. The barrel of the weapon sinks into the leathery skin and 211 pulls the trigger. The buckshot blows the beast apart, splattering every surface in the orange worms.
The second hunter, enraged by the loss of its bond-brother, roars and blindly charges 211 who deftly dodges aside, letting me take some shots at the exposed skin. The ODST's follow suit and the Hunter is down within a few seconds.
"Uh oh. Jackson, I need biofoam, NOW," 211 yells after going to Kia's side. I take my canister and toss it to him. He jams the nozzle onto the wound and sprays it as well as he can. "Holy shit...It hurts," Kia gasps, clutching her weapon in a death grip. "We're getting you out of here, Kia. Just hold on," 211 says and picks her up.
"He got hit hard, sir. I've patched him up as good as I can, but he's going to need stitches," the field medic says, crouching next to Parkson with a medical kit in hand. He had removed his helmet to reveal a bloodied head. Parkson's red hair is matted with blood and looks serious. "We're moving out, everyone! Get back to the Pelicans," I say and hold Parkson in my arms and leave the building.
"What the hell happened?" Zeke asks as we exit the facility. "Hunter ambush. We got set up, Zeke. The damn Mayor is a traitor," I snarl. "I thought as much," Zeke says and turns to the ODST Commander. "This mission is scrubbed. Get your men loaded up, we're out of here."
We leave the planet post-haste, not bothering to report back to the traitor. We never do find that Scarab. But I'm assuming he was just lying to get us to fall into his trap.
The Captain meets us once we dock and is surprised to see half of my team in critical condition. We explain to him what happened and I can tell it didn't come as a surprise to him.
"After you dropped in, the Covie ships ran into slipspace. I thought something was off, but I let you run your op. God...I'm sorry I did," he says, shaking his head. "You couldn't have known, sir. All we can do is report this back to headquarters and hope that the bastard is dealt with," I say angrily. "Agreed. Now go get some rest. It's going to be a long trip back, Spartan," The Captain says and leaves us to ourselves.
A few hours later, I'm in my casual clothing reading a book Parkson had lent me. It was some story about a haunted mine that was actually intriguing. But I found myself unable to focus on the book and instead thinking about Kia's condition.
After a few hours of surgery, Kia's arm was inevitably amputated. They severed it at the joint because the Hunter completely destroyed the entire arm. But they said the surgery was a complete success and Kia is now in recovery, waking up under heavy sedation.
As for Parkson, he had no long-lasting effects from the concussion and had to have twenty stitches to seal his head back up. 211 teased him that the hit might have knocked his speech back into him. Parkson obviously thought that was funny.
But all of us are worrying about our teammate in recovery. I can't stop thinking about what will happen to her future in the military. I am terrified for her that she will be stuck behind a desk somewhere far behind friendly lines pushing pencils for a living. But 211 jokes that maybe it will teach her to be more patient. I tell him that it would never happen.
The Captain says that she might be able to get a prosthetic replacement if the UNSC will coorperate. But even if she can, it will be months before she's combat-ready again. It's a hope that I have to hold on to. I just can't stand the thought of losing a member of my team. We're a family, and losing a family member would be devastating.
For the long ride home, though, we can only assist her in her physical therapy and give her the company and motivation to continue on.