Unknown Flint Mountain Range

August 18, 2558

The shouting and guttural chirps of the skirmisher pirates rang even louder through the air as many of them scampered about. The airspace between the canopies was now alive as half dozen phantom dropships with their armaments removed landing at the landing pad. In the distance even more purple colored carriers returned from wherever their mothership was docked.

Vasili was in a line that passed buckets of liquid mercury to the station where it would separate the gold and the sight of the pirates and slaves working feverishly to load long boxes aboard. They were preparing another shipment to head out.

He had been caught transfixed by the loading process that he forgot that the young man next to him was waiting for him to take the bucket. The line was long and holding up didn't bode well. He tried to get Vasili's attention, but the guard saw it first, slamming the stock into his back that hurt, but didn't do any serious damage. He dared not to look back because it would send the skirmisher pirate into such a towering rage that he wasn't sure he'd be able to survive. His body was now starting to wear as well from the long hours with slop meals and substandard nutrition gave him complete wretched state. He did have to hand it to the others, who seemed to tolerate it better than he did.

His roommate in his cabin, Vitaly had timed their work so that they could head back and eat together. Of all the members that were present when Vasili first arrived, only he and Vitaly were still alive.

"It's all hopeless now." He said as both of them trudged to the pier where the partially beached freighter they called home sat in the black sand. Her pure white hull had dark smears of mud and dirt. Despite all of his bleak state, Vasili still had a tiny glimmer of hope left inside him.

They were halfway to their steps of the mess hall when the closest phantom's gravity lift turned on and a larger skirmisher descended running out to look at the loading process of the large boxes. He was decorated in dark red ornate armor with a flowing cloak that nearly touched the muddy ground and his feathers were covered in razor sharp metal spikes. He had a plasma pistol holstered in one hand and his other hand around something in his ear, most likely a communication device.

"Weld, it's Nex…Yeah the authorities just threatened to head over here and watch the place. They find out what we're doing here, we're done!...What do you mean I'm done?" He looked around for eavesdroppers and his gaze centered right on Vasili.

Immediately, he let out a scream of pain and collapsed onto the dirt, doing his best to make the injury sound convincing. Vitaly rushed to his side, "Are you okay?" In response, the Spartan jerked his head towards Fel. He wrinkled his forehead in confusion as the skirmisher pirate warlord turned away again.

"I'm not surprised with you sitting in a Jacuzzi right now…We can move our one hundred and fifty tons within a few minutes, as soon as I get these filthy damn workers going. No Bruce is no longer part of the equation, he's not been answering any of my calls."

"I think they're leaving." Vitaly whispered as they moved on after another warning glance from the skirmisher. "Do you know what will happen to us now?"

"You heard them, they're leaving us behind."

"So we're going to die." Vitaly's head lowered in defeat. "Whether they leave us or not."

Vasili knew that he had reached his psychological limit. In any survival situation, staying optimistic was half the battle to staying alive. He figured that he could trust Vitaly and knew that if he lost hope now, then he'd be dead within the day's end.

"Listen." He grabbed Vitaly's shoulders, looking at him square in the eyes. "We are not going to die on his damn coast."

He gave him a sad smile, "You say empty words. "

"I'm not a Russian." When Vitaly gave him an odd look, he realized what he just said, "Actually I am Russian but was raised on the motherland. I am a member of a group investigating these pirate links to the illegal traffic."

"So you are UNSC?"

"Fight for her." Vasili recalled a propaganda poster describing the fight for Earth.

Vitaly actually smiled warmly for the first time that they met, now brightened with newly found hope. He squinted out towards the sea and pointed, "Fresh crap tonight huh?"

Vasili looked out, seeing the small fleet of ships that normally brought in what was on the menu for the grinder and the slop inside his bowl. Observing closer, he saw that it wasn't with its normal kig-yar crew of fishermen and hunters. They were armored humans, all armed to the teeth with assault weapons.

Things were about to get messy.

"Come on." His senses were on high alert and his long worn fatigue gone. The human attackers must have felt the same thing, closely clutching their rifles.

Gunfire erupted from one of the dropships as the plasma cannon on her lower side opened up, raking the deck of the approaching boat with bluish bolts. Both he and Vitaly were too far away from the pirate's main armed force to be in the crossfire. He led Vitaly to the side of the headquarters, peering out at the ocean as the four assault boats beached themselves and a roar of bullets erupted from Weld's PMCs. Fel's men had been caught off guard and lost a few members, but the massive numbers immediately went on alert, returning fire. Anyone, PMC, slave or skirmisher caught in between the main lines was cut down to multicolored bloody ribbons.

"What's happening?" His accomplice asked, somewhat in a panic mode.

Vasili looked out again, the two dozen of Weld's specialists had found cover behind concrete blocks, a buildings and even a sharpshooter and his DMR inside the bulletproof boat.

There had to be nearly forty skirmishers nearby trying to pick them off with even more joining the fray. They completely outnumbered their opponents, but from the looks of it, Weld's PMCs were much better trained, likely all of them seasoned innie commandos.

The betrayal was flawed, although Weld had to get ahold of the bullion, it was held on the phantoms which were on the landing pad a ways from the beach. His men would have to annihilate every pirate who obviously knew their intentions from setting up a plasma turret and posting some of the better ranked troops in front of the walkways.

A swarm of skirmisher reinforcements were headed straight towards Vasili and Vitaly. They had been doing the oppressing of the slaves whose shift was going on presently until Weld decided to interrupt. He edged Vitaly behind a crate of gold until one of the guards passed too close.

In a move only fast enough for a Spartan, Vasili stuck his hand out in a fist and swung it the opposite direction. The pirate was running so fast, he had no chance of stopping. The blow knocked him clean off his feet. He reached inside the gold container, grabbing a handful of the precious metal, flinging it at the gunman who was starting to get up, still in a daze.

As if caught by a shotgun blast, the shards of gold, with their softness struck through flesh and buried themselves in his brain. He was dead before the body's ragdoll effect of jerking followed as a visual.

Vasili reached down for the weapon, a Covie carbine. Without an exchange of words from his partner, they sprinted to the purple domed building. The automatic hatch opened up for them, glowing in a typical blue Covenant fashion. He aimed at his targets, four skirmishers all turning to see who entered. He had put a round from the carbine's barrel into their skulls before they even registered that he had been a slave.

Rushing forwards, he managed to get a rough translation of all the Covenant runes that dotted the panels inside the pirates' HQ. Vowing to get another session of Covenant language, he found the main communications station. Settling down, the large purple rectangle remained static, despite him punching in the commands.

"Looking for this?" The raspy voice came from behind. Vasili had already deduced what the problem was when he saw the solution; a jammer inside a skirmisher's hand.

Quickly as not to make sure he was calm, he spun around to his left, grabbing the carbine and with one swift motion, fired two shots. The first radioactive particle went right through his left arm, severing muscle tissue and causing him to drop the jammer. The second shot impacted dead center in his chest, killing him before he had gotten more chances to gloat.

Vasili stepped over the corpse, smashing the lemon shaped device. "Yeah I was looking for that. I'm touched that you went through this trouble to bring it to me." The last part was laden with hatred.

He sat down and punched in a code that was instant for him to remember, despite being days since he had last recited it. He had no way for a confirmation that his message had got through, but if Trip and the crew weren't fast enough, there wouldn't be anyone to save and someone was going to make off with a blood treasure.

"So what now?" Vitaly asked, one he had finished his work. He had been watching the whole fighting scene with utter awe.

Vasili turned to him when they exited the building, smashing the side panel with the rifle so that nobody could get in or out. "Payback time."

Vasili's starting to fight back now! Will Aegis and the Blades make it to him in time?

Thanks for reading and reviewing everyone. You give my writing purpose.