New Mombassa, October 21st, 2552, 1:30 AM

Sector 2-A: Central Park.

Tracking ODSTs: Sgt. Charles Louis Mathison, Pvt. Tyler Mitchell MacMillan

"Ah, Christ..." Mathison grunted, tossing the chunk of drywall of of himself. "The hell was that?"

What was left of the store was dark, and destroyed. All of the street lights had gone out, and the only light came from fires and the moon.

"Jesus..." He said as he examined the surrounding area. "This is a mess."

He sat up and looked around the store.

Most of the shelves had been blown away, and the majority of the structure had collapsed, leaving a pile of broken concrete chunks and rebar.

"Kid? You still with me?" Mathison called as he got to his feet.

"Over here..." Came the strained reply. Mathison rushed over to see Ty pinned under one of the Store's concrete support beams. His helmet was missing, and blood dripped down his face. Mathison gripped the edges of the beam, and lifted with all his might, clearing enough room for Ty to slide out from under it.

"There you go..." Mathison grunted as he dropped the beam down. "You alright, Kid?"

"Still breathing." Ty said, wiping the blood from his face. "Lost my SMG."

"You're lucky that's all you lost, pal. A few more inches and you'd have lost your head." Mathison said, checking his shotgun. It was still working perfectly. "You still got your sidearm?"

Ty plucked his M6CSOCOM from his leg holster.

"Luckily." He nodded.

"Good, then we're still in this." Mathison walked out from the wreckage and flipped on his radio. "TREC Actual this is TREC 1, do you copy?"

The only reply was static.

"Damn it... comms are down."

"Must be the radiation from the carrier's jump." Ty said.

"What?"

"The carrier... it... puts off radiation when it makes a hyperspace jump." He said, scratching it's head.

"How the hell do you know that?" Mathison asked.

"Video games..." Ty said with a grin.

"Of course... How foolish of me to think you might actually have learned something somewhere." Mathison replied, rolling his eyes.

"Where do you think Logan and Lugo are?" Ty asked.

Mathison looked around, squinting into the darkness.

"Smart money is on Logan being in that building somewhere." He said, pointing to the office building on the opposite side of the central park. "And Lugo, hell, anything's possible..."

"So... I'm a little fuzzy on protocol here..." Ty said. "Exactly what do we do when an Alien attack on earth turns to eight shades of shit?"

"Pray to god you don't step in it." Mathison chuckled.

"Oh great. This is a wonderful first assignment." Ty groaned.

"Kid, you don't get medals for sitting on the ship playing grab-ass, you get me?"

"Yes sir." Ty said, his shoulders slumping. "I don't think I'll be getting any medals any time soon. For all we know, we might be the last humans left!"

Mathison narrowed his eyes at Ty.

"Kid, you got a wild imagination, you know that? Do me a favor and just zip it, alright?"

"Uh, Yes Sarge. Sorry..." Ty said, wiping more blood from his face.

"You gonna be alright? That's a nasty cut."

Ty nodded.

"You sure?"

Another nod.

"You could say something, you know..."

"But you said-"

Mathison rubbed his temples.

"I know what I said... Jesus..."

"So... what, exactly, is the plan?" Ty asked, looking over his pistol.

"Wait here, Without radios, we can't organize ourselves. It's better if we stay put. That way at least they know where to look for us."

"Sounds like-" Ty stopped, jerking his head to the left, out towards the darkness of Central Park.

"Something wrong?" Mathison asked.

"I though I heard..." Ty trailed off.

Ty shoved Mathison to the ground as a flurry of orange streaks flew by, superheated steel spikes of the Brute's devastating Spiker.

"Shit!" Mathison shouted, crawling into the rubble for cover. "Did you see how many there are?!"

"No clue, Sarge!" Ty called back from behind the destroyed remains of the shop's shelves. Lifting his Automag pistol over the top, he fired blindly into the dark.

"Don't waste your ammo kid! You don't know how long we need to hold out!" Mathison yelled as he fired periodic shotgun blasts in the enemy's direction.

Plasma blasts and Spiker rounds light up the night, mixed with the muzzle flash of Mathison's Shotgun.

"Why the hell are they still here?!" Ty called out.

"Doesn't matter! They're here, they die! Got it!?" Mathison snapped and he crouched to reload.

"Yes Sir!" Ty shouted, hopping out from cover to fire into an approaching Brute. The M6CSOCOM packed a surprising punch, and the Brute fell almost instantly. Ty ducked back into cover to reload.

The combat dragged on. For every Brute they killed, two replaced it.

"Kid, how you doin'?" Mathison asked as he slid yet more shells into it's shotgun.

"Holding up! You?"

"Loving every second!" Mathison cackled. He had to admit, things started to look bleak. He didn't want to say it, but he had about 20 shells left, and it didn't look like Lugo or Logan, or anyone would be coming for them. But he was an ODST, Through and through. I came from hell to bring as many sorry S.O.B.s back with me as possible, He thought. An old Helljumper's Motto.

"Sarge!?" Ty called, snapping Mathison out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"This isn't looking good..." Ty said bitterly.

"We'll be fine kid." Mathison said. "Lugo and Logan'll be charging in any second now!"

"I may be green, Sarge, but-"

"I'm telling you, we'll be fine! Now shut your damn mouth and fight!"

Ty nodded silently. His expression grew dark, but it was almost... accepting, of what was to come.

"Either way, it's been fun Sarge."

Mathison peered out into the darkness. They either needed to move now, or they'd die in this pile of rubble. They didn't have they supplies to hold out here. Thinking back on his career, Mathison had never been in this bleak of a situation. At his age, he was old for a Helljumper. While Ty was just old enough to be accepted.

"Kid..." Mathison said, pulling a smoke grenade off of his vest.

"Yeah Sarge?"

"Get ready to run."

"What!?"

"You heard me! Run!" Mathison shouted tossing the grenade out into the street.

As the smoke filled, Mathison rushed out into the street, firing wildly into the smoke. Turning to his left, he felt a blinding pain in his chest. He looked down to see a Spike sticking out of his chest.

His legs folded under him, and he collapsed to the pavement.

Ty rushed to Mathison's side, dragging him behind a nearby car.

"What are you doing!?" Mathison said through his gritted teeth, a pink froth forming around his mouth. "I told you to run!"

"Fuck that!" Ty said. "Either we both leave, or neither of us do!"

Mathison's vision started to darken.

"Hey! Stay with me!" Ty called as he continued to fight. A stray plasma bolt crashed into his vest, dropping him to one knee.

A block away, Lugo and Company approached the clearing smoke.

"There!" Lugo yelled. "Malodov! Light 'em up!"

The Warthog's Chain gun roared to life, spewing heavy caliber rounds at a staggering rate. Lugo slammed the handbrake, sliding the Warthog to a stop, and hopping out.

Within a few minutes, the Brutes lay strewn across the street. Waters was tending to Mathison.

"Thank god we got here in time." Lugo said, helping Ty to his feet.

Waters walked up to Lugo.

"I wouldn't say that..." He said sadly.

"What?"

"'is lung's been punctured. All I've got left is bandages. I ran out of Bio-foam hours ago."

"So?"

"So? So!?" Waters said angrily, before leaning in to speak quietly. "Do I need to spell it out, boy? He's not going to make it. I'm a doctor not a damn miracle worker..."

The words hit Lugo like a punch to the stomach.

"I'm sorry, Lugo. I can't do anything for him. I mean, maybe if we'd gotten 'ere earlier, we could've-"

"Shut up." Lugo said angrily.

"Wha-"

"Shut, the hell, up!" Lugo snapped.

Waters stomped off, kicking the back bumper of the Warthog angrily.

Lugo crouched down next to Mathison, whose breathing had become shallow, and labored. Ty sat against the rubble, looking straight down at the ground.

"Hey Sarge..." Lugo said, trying to sound cheery.

"Hey... Jackass..." Mathison chuckled.

"The Doc says you're gonna be fine, so-"

"Chris... Don't bullshit me... I know what... is gonna happen..." He said, gasping for breath. He looked over at Ty and Logan. "You know... what comes next... right?"

"Yeah... I know."

Mathison lifted his Dogtags off of his neck, holding them out to Lugo.

"Put these... Somewhere nice..."

"You got it..." Lugo said, trying to smile.

"Listen, you gotta... do me one... more favor..."

"Yeah?"

"Don't let the kid... blame himself..."

"You got it, Sarge."

"Good boy..." Mathison said with a sigh.

"Any more requests, Mr. Needy?" Lugo chuckled weakly.

"Yeah... Name a ship after me..."

"Got it... the UNSC Asshole."

Mathison scoffed.

"You're alright Lugo... You're... Alright..."

Mathison took one last breath, and closed his eyes.

Lugo sat in silence for a bit, and it seemed the uneasy silence over took the whole city. After a few minutes, Lugo stood up and turned to Ty.

"Rookie!"

"Yeah?" Ty said weakly, still staring at the ground.

"Is that wound gonna be a problem?"

"No."

"Good, than up and at 'em. You're driving."

"Yes sir..." Ty said, standing up and trudging to the Warthog. Lugo stopped him as he passed by.

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Blame the Covies, not yourself."

"If I hadn't hesitated, he might-"

"Don't waste time on what MIGHT have happened, you hear me? Don't remember him by feeling sorry for yourself. Get angry, and make sure every single Covenant bastard out there fears your name."

"Yes sir."

"It's just Lugo, rook."

Ty nodded, and got into the Warthog's front seat.

"Alright Ladies! Saddle up! Malodov, Logan, Get the Sergeant loaded in the back... We're not leaving him here."