Chapter Five: More Than the Eye Can See

Not even the new major's words could keep me this side of sleep when I finally found a spot to lie down and rest in the cool island night. I'd made all the preparations against further attack that I could, issued all the orders I could think of, and now all there was left to do was wait and see what the next day had in store for us. I was glad for the brief respite and took advantage, eventually dozing off beneath one of the blown-out palm trees that had weathered the fighting earlier, once again surrounded by Porter's squad for my protection. My last thought before I went to sleep was how much I missed the bed in my quarters on the Affair, and Willis sleeping beside me. Then I was out.

I didn't know how long I'd been asleep when the sudden sound of loud gunfire and heavy movement woke me. As soon as I got up I noticed my aide was already crouched just in front of me, his weapon held to bear with the remainder of his squad on alert around us. My pulse spiked at all the noise despite myself, though after a moment of careful listening, it sounded like the activity wasn't directed at us. I hefted my DMR but held the gun loosely in my hands.

"Josh?" I whispered in the dark, just before I tapped my helmet with one hand to open up the night vision suite so I could see better. "What's going on?"

My aide answered without looking back, keeping his total focus on what lay in front of us. "Don't know yet, ma'am. Just heard the sounds and got up, same as you. I'd respectfully suggest – "

"Wait one, Staff," I said, cutting him off. "Let me get a hold of the major."

"Yes, ma'am."

Much as I wanted to avoid contact with the newly promoted Warfield, for obvious reasons, I knew I couldn't at a time like this. Something was happening, maybe not here but fairly close by, and I wanted to know about it.

"Major Warfield, this is Lieutenant Colonel Cooper. Please respond."

The response wasn't immediate, but not too delayed, either.

"Warfield here."

"We're hearing gunfire and movement up here near the ridge, Major," I said. "Any idea what it's about?"

"Yes, Colonel. One of my companies is currently engaged with hostiles as we speak."

"I can see that. Storm or Prometheans?"

"Storm, ma'am."

I could tell he'd forced himself to say that last word – he could only go so long excluding it before it bordered on insubordination, and he knew that. Major Warfield may have been a bit of an ass but he wasn't stupid. Though I wanted to let out a frustrated sigh at his behavior, I swallowed it down and continued as if nothing were amiss. There were much bigger fish to fry at the moment.

And, truth be told, I was kind of relieved we were facing our old enemies again rather than the tough and still-mysterious new ones. Though it was surprising that the Remnant had suddenly reappeared so soon.

"Right," I replied. Then, gripping my rifle tighter, I added, "Send the location to my HUD, Major. My security detail and I are heading out to take a look. In the meantime, you stay with the rest of your battalion, Cole, and let me know if anything else crops up."

"Acknowledged, Colonel."

The major's response was gruff and strained, as I'd expected it to be. I inwardly sighed. If we were going to be working closely together from now on along with my former XO, I knew our dynamic had to change – and I still had no clue what he thought I'd done wrong. So I finally decided to call him out on it.

"Warfield," I said in a purposefully easygoing tone, "if we've got a problem here, we better solve it now."

The only answer I received, however, was a brusque, "Later." Then the connection cut.

Though the new major's attitude continued to vex me, I pushed all other thoughts aside for now and focused solely on the task at hand – finding out how and why the Storm had shown up again, and making sure we gave those bastards a one-way ticket to their graves like the others. I turned to face Porter again as soon as the coordinates and a waypoint were uploaded to my HUD.

Tapping his shoulder, I ordered, "Staff, let's move."

Since I'd decided to stop and rest closest to Warfield's battalion's lines upon landing, it didn't take us long to arrive on scene. The closer we got to the fighting, the louder the sounds of weapons' discharge got – and the closer Porter's squad of Marines got to hovering around me. I finally had to order them to spread out a little more and give me room to maneuver and see what was going on, although the flashes of bright plasma lighting up the night sky made it pretty plain to see.

Somewhere down below the edge of the ridge, there were Storm troops.

Searching through the FOF tags on my HUD, my helmet's electronics zeroed in on the highest-ranking Marine officer present in the skirmish, a captain, and I instantly opened up a COM channel to her as I crept my way closer to edge.

"Captain Sogaard, this is Lieutenant Colonel Cooper," I said over the radio, trying my best to block out the sounds of the fight all around us. "Want to give me a sitrep?"

"Yes, ma'am," the female officer replied in a hurry. "My company and I were tasked to take over patrol duties about an hour ago, to make sure the lines were quiet. It was our turn. One of the squads circled close to the edge and spotted the Storm below. I guess a jumpy private opened up before further orders could be issued, and here we are, Colonel."

"I see. Enemy strength?"

"It's hard to tell from up here, ma'am. We'd have to get down there to know for sure. I can tell you now that they're giving my company a run for their money, though."

"Dammit." And here I'd been hoping for at least a few hours of peace without any activity. It seemed the island was constantly swarming with one group of baddies or another – and this was supposedly after we'd already defeated the larger unit of Remnant troops that had remained.

"Colonel? Orders?"

"Keep up the fire, Captain," I answered. "I'll bring in another platoon to help, along with some sharpshooters. Just sit tight for now, Marine."

"Yes, ma'am."

I could have called in the tankers, too, as well as the 'Hogs left, since the 904th Battalion still had a full complement of armor and vehicles at their disposal. But because of the angle, and because the Storm troops were firing from down below on the beach, I knew anything other than foot soldiers would likely be useless. I didn't want to bring Willis and his squadron – no, squadrons, I reminded myself – into this, either. Not so long as our ground troops were able to handle it on their own. I wanted to save our heavy hitters for when we truly needed them.

I figured the extra manpower and snipers I called in would be enough to help level the playing field on the ridge. I'd allocate more resources from there if I felt we needed it.

Only once my commands were issued did I turn my attention back to the fight going on around me. I noticed that in the meantime, Staff Sergeant Porter and his squad had inched up close to the edge and were already firing their weapons at a frenetic pace, tagging the Storm troops from high above and sending their bodies sprawling onto the sandy rocks beneath us, bright sprays of multi-colored blood bursting in the dark night.

Finally bringing my own rifle to bear, I crouched beside one of my aide's Marines and joined the fray myself. With my helmet's night vision, I was able to zoom in on targets below through my weapon's scope and see them all clear as day – though the image was an eerie green rather than full color.

All along the beach, various aliens fired up at us with their plasma weapons, the smaller Jackals and Grunts mostly taking refuge behind the rocks, the larger Elites stepping forward fearlessly to squeeze off deadly glowing orbs of plasma at us. I took careful aim at the first enemy fighter I spotted – a Grunt that had foolishly followed one of the Elites out of cover – and pulled the trigger.

My DMR's initial burst stopped the alien in its tracks, making it stumble backward, but it was my follow-up shot that did him in. As its small body bucked back against the sandy ground, I noticed the Elite glance up and roar as more and more of its comrades were slain. Even from this distance, zoomed in with my scope I could tell he was gunning for me now. Acting fast, I quickly flattened myself against the dirt to avoid getting shot.

It was a good thing I did. If I'd remained crouching where I was, I would've had plasma-sized hole in my neck now.

I knew the shot hadn't actually come from the Elite, though. The thin, tight purple beam of plasma wasn't a round that emerged from a weapon they usually carried. It was a beam rifle shot, for marksman – that meant Jackals. And since I'd already been on the receiving end of not one but two of their sniper rounds – from one of the UNSC's own damn guns – and barely survived, I wasn't exactly itching to be the recipient of a third.

So, through the open COM I shouted, "Marines, we've got sharpshooters down below! Watch it! Snipers, target them first! Let's go!"

From there the skirmish continued to be an odd exchange, since we obviously had the high ground advantage, but the Storm below seemed to have the edge as far as strength went. As our own numbers climbed once the reinforcement platoon arrived, though, the tide started to turn.

A few of the Marines beside me even pulled grenades from their web belts, primed them, and tossed them down onto the beach. That was a tactic the Remnant couldn't use on us in their current position, though most of the Elites saw the explosives coming and dodge-rolled out of the way, while Jackals simply hid behind their shields and took it. Only some unlucky and particularly oblivious Grunts managed to get the brunt of those attacks, and they paid for their inattention with bursting body parts and light blue blood that splattered onto the rocks and sand.

Still, though, the Jackal sharpshooters continued to do the most damage to own lines. Several Marines firing onto the sand from the edge of the ridge were shot in the head despite my warning and their own caution, caught unaware as they reloaded or momentarily forgot in the heat of the moment about the alien snipers below. Others who stood taller were tagged in the stomach. The lucky ones tumbled backward against the ground and were immediately attended to by medics who could try to save them. A couple others, however, fell forward and were inevitably killed by the sharp drop, their screams ringing in my ears even amid the constant cacophony of battle. A cold shiver went down my spine.

It was as I crawled up to the edge myself once more, careful not to get brained by a Jackal round, that I heard the female captain's voice over my COM again.

"Colonel Cooper, they're falling back! Look!"

At her words my first instinct was obviously to do just that, but I didn't want my curiosity to get me killed. I still pulled myself closer to the edge slowly, and only once I felt it was safe did I bring my rifle level to the beach below again and take a good look through the scope.

Now that the Storm were on the run, disappearing into some outcrop underneath us where we couldn't reach or bolting off to the side over the rocks close to where the ocean waves languidly lapped at the shore, I could see just how much carnage we'd managed to leave behind in their lines. Alien bodies littered the area below, while several different colors of blood and discarded plasma weapons decorated the sandy ground. The number of Remnant troops that were suddenly taking off was rather small, too, in comparison to the amount we'd been fighting when I'd first gotten here.

Still, that didn't mean I was about to let them leave. I'd thought we'd already taken care of the Storm problem on the island, and the 8th Engineer Battalion was guarding the entrance to the portals we'd found in the ruins earlier – so I knew for sure that the extra Storm hadn't come in through there. That left me wondering where these guys had been hiding out this whole time, and why they'd chosen now to make their presence known.

"Cease fire, cease fire!" one of the lieutenants nearby shouted over the radio then, while the alien warriors below us continued their retreat.

I immediately keyed the COM again. "Belay that, Marines! Tag as many as you can get while they're running! We're going after them!"

Acknowledgment lights winked green across my HUD, and our lines suddenly erupted in a rattling chorus of weapons' fire again. Besides the regulars, a few friendly snipers tagged Grunts left and right as they scrambled over the rocks, dropping them hard and fast. The Elites were tougher to get, and the Jackals too clever and quick, but one or two of each of them were taken down as well. I let loose a final burst myself at one of the Jackals, trying hard to take him out since I still had a grudge against the bastards who'd almost succeeded at taking my life for access to better weaponry, but my shot went wide. I muttered a curse to myself and ducked to reload, my clip spent.

In just a few more minutes the last act of the skirmish was over. One way or another, every single one of the Remnant troops down on the beach had suddenly disappeared out of the fight. I knew we had to move fast if we wanted to catch up, so now that we were no longer actively getting shot at, I pushed myself up to my knees as soon as I finished reloading and started shouting orders again.

"Snipers, stay on the ridge! You provide us with overhead coverage while we go in, clear?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Captain Sogaard?"

"Colonel?"

"Take one of your platoons and get them to gear up. I want them to rappel down to the beach and go after those alien sons o' bitches. Have the rest of your men follow once the ropes are clear, squad by squad, till everyone's on the shore. I'll get Major Warfield to charge another company with patrol duty."

"Right away, ma'am!"

I turned to Staff Sergeant Porter next. Grabbing the seasoned yet relatively young noncom by his shoulder, I said, "Josh?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You, too. Get your squad together. We're going down with them."

Porter seemed worried about my involvement, as usual. "Colonel, I don't – "

"Now, Staff."

"Yes, ma'am."

While my aide busied himself with readying his Marines, I opened up another channel. "Major Warfield, this is Lieutenant Colonel Cooper. The skirmish is over for now but I'm taking your company after the Storm. I want to know exactly where these bastards are coming from, and how many more we might have to fight. Get another one of your companies to saddle up and get out there on patrol. Tell them to stay sharp. We might get more Remnant troops popping out of someplace else, or maybe even the Prometheans again. Prepare for anything."

I knew the major likely hated the position I'd just put him in, but he had no choice but to swallow it and deal with it, unless he wanted to spend the remainder of our time here on Khan in the brig aboard the Affair. If he ever outright ignored one of my orders, he knew that was going to be the last straw for him.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll get it done," he said in a none-too-happy tone.

"Good. Cooper out."

After that, while the rest of the Marines got ready to rappel down the edge of the rise to the beach, I had just one more order of business to attend to. I keyed the COM again, this time opening up a channel to our resident spook.

"Lieutenant Lloyd? It's Cooper."

He answered quickly. "Colonel?"

"Meet me on the ridge, Lieutenant. I'm tagging our location to your HUD now, though I'm sure you've heard what's been going on."

"Yes, ma'am. I was wondering what all the ruckus was. More Prometheans?"

I let out a sigh. "Nope. Not this time, thankfully. It's actually the Storm. Looks like we didn't clean house as thoroughly as I thought with our assault."

"Well, to be fair, that was hard to do without knowing about the chamber under the ruins, ma'am. Now we know they've got more places to hide than just the surface."

"Yeah," I said with a little dejection in my voice. "That's what I was afraid of."

As if the fucking Prometheans weren't enough, I thought to myself with a frown.