The Life

by casquis

The Great War was a long one, millions made it, more didn't. Frank is an ODST, a human just like us, that has managed to survive the most grueling battles for years. With so much experience under his belt he has some amazing stories to tell. This are the life stories of an immature, not-all-in-there, and talented Marine just living, fighting, and being plain badass during the war.

112. Seven Jackasses, Ten Rangers, and a WMD

Chapter CXII: Seven Jackasses, Ten Rangers, and a WMD

February 11, 2544 (UNSC Calendar)/

Wilk Waste Disposal Facility, Wilk Outskirts, Wolff, Zeta Lupus System

---

"You signed up for it, best get used to it."- Gunnery Sergeant Francisco Castillo

---

"Rangers incoming," I warned. "The good kind," I quickly added.

My team actually sighed with relief while I headed down to the firing centre, still airtight despite the damage it had received during the last attack. The bodies had been tossed down the hill once again, but the pools of alien blood were still there. I walked through the battlefield, my boots making wet sloshing sounds as I stepped in the multi-colored blood belonging to three different alien races.

"Will you look at that."

"What?" Pavel asked me.

"Here, linking you to my helmet."

"Whoa," he chuckled. "Take a picture. Or seven."

I did just that, taking pictures from seven different angles before finally taking a step forward to wake up Angel and Grass.

The Italian had asked for leave to catch a quick nap sometime after the attack, and Grass had been interrupted mid-nap by the attack, so I allowed both of them to catch some sleep. For some reason that was beyond my understanding, they had both taken off their helmets and had fallen asleep in a sitting position, their backs up against the wall. You know, whenever something like that happens, one of the sleepers will lean on the other one's shoulder. It's a law of nature, you can't avoid it.

Now that I had taken seven different pictures which I would make copious backups off so that Angel couldn't hack into my helmet and delete them, I had the question of how to wake them up. I considering firing a shot at the ceiling, but that was overdoing it.

Instead, I settled for grabbing one of the overturned chairs and lifting it above my head before bringing it down on the floor. It made a loud crashing noise (obviously) that served to jolt both my squad mates awake.

"You are just too cute," I teased.

"Wha-" Angel started before he realized where exactly Grass' head was placed. "Gerofme!"

"Ouch!" she complained as his pauldron banged her head. "The hell?"

"Don't ever use me as a pillow ever again," Angel growled.

Interesting…

"I didn't!" Grass shot back. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You did," I interrupted. "I have seven pictures to prove that."

"What?"

"You heard me," I smiled.

"Lemme see," Angel demanded. I was happy to oblige. "Goddamit. I'm never gonna hear the end of this."

"You? What about me?" Grass yelled.

"Consider yourself lucky that you got to use my shoulder as a pillow," Angel dismissed her as he checked the seven pictures in his helmet. "Damn it Sarge."

"Yeah, ok, now that you've gotten over the shock of realizing that there is sexual tension between the two of you, you are free to get up. We've got a squad of rangers coming in."

"Friendlies?" Grass asked as she stood up and put on her helmet.

"There is no sexual tension between us!" Angel tried to point out.

"Friendlies," I confirmed. "Now move out."

Angel and Grass started bickering about who should've felt lucky that they had found themselves asleep like that. I decided that it was probably for the best if I ignored them and walked out, putting on my helmet as soon as I stepped outside. I took one quick breath before putting it on, the atmosphere was thin and I barely felt like I got any air in, terraforming had been supposed to fix that, but the arrival of the Covenant probably meant that would never happen.

I looked up at the sky, forcing myself to ignore both Zeta Lupus VI and the other nearby moons that adorned the celestial sphere. There were a few thin clouds floating around, but my view of the sky was mostly unimpeded. I immediately spotted ten black dots gradually getting larger. Occasionally there were some orange flashes as the rangers activated their jetpacks to slow their descent. After about a minute of doing that, the squad of special operatives finally touched the ground.

There were ten of them, a squad. My HUD immediately tagged them as friendlys and displayed their ranks and names in a square that popped up next to their heads. The helmet even made the squares and letters smaller the farther away the rangers were for me. The amount of things that my second favorite piece of equipment could do never ceased to impress me.

I quickly located the ranking noncom, a staff sergeant, and approached him.

"Gunnery Sergeant Castillo," I introduced myself, offering him my hand. "Glad to have you here."

"Staff Sergeant Waylon Durant," he replied, shaking my hand.

"I remember you, you have a mean right hook."

"Don't mention it. Really don't. You burned through the platoon."

"They were tired," I said, trying to be modest.

"It's still an embarrassment."

"I didn't mean for it to look that way."

"Yeah, I guess the lieutenant did, because it worked, he got the entire unit working harder than usual. A lot harder."

"Huh, good for him then."

The sergeant nodded. He was an averagely-sized man, well-built, and had a distinct military look to him. The only part of his skin that I could see was the ebony skin around his eyes and part of his cheeks. Unlike the rest of his squad, he had opted to wear long sleeves and gloves. The other rangers were sporting rolled up sleeves. The weather was rather warm outside, and a thin layer of ballistic clothing wouldn't help much against incoming plasma.

"What's the situation here Gunnery Sergeant?" Durant asked me while moving towards a crate that his team had brought with them. "If a Helljumper is asking for help I take it that it must be bad."

"You didn't see that legion of enemy xenos surrounding our little mountaintop coming down?" Bumblebee asked. "I would've though it pretty hard to miss."

"Bee," I warned before turning back to Durant. "We're halfway down on our ammunition supply. Probably a quarter if I use Army standards. The firing centre is still in working order, as is the Onager cannon. We can recycle some oxygen and the firing centre has breathable air from the atmosphere, but it won't last us forever."

"Strong points?"

"Most of the buildings still function as trenches," I shrugged. "Walkways have pretty strong safety walls too."

"Can't figure out why, they're two feet from the ground," Snark mused. "But I guess we should be thankful."

"You haven't dug any trenches?" Durant asked.

"Nah, take too much time, besides, we don't have e-tools."

"Typical marine mentality," one ranger said.

"Well hello there Specialist Winchester," I greeted. "Good to see you again."

Specialist Winchester didn't say anything, but a couple of the other rangers snickered at that. I ignored them and spared Claire a quick wave before returning my attention to Staff Sergeant Duncan.

"You been in the military for long Staff Sergeant?" I asked him.

"Twelve years," he informed me. "And just sergeant, staff sergeant sounds too formal."

"Twelve years," I whistled. "I only have ten years under my belt myself."

"Sergeant?"

"You, being Army, probably have more experience when it comes to fortifying positions and holding them than I do. What do you propose?"

"We've held positions before?" Angel complained.

"Mostly buildings," I shot back. "Now shut up."

Durant stopped and placed his MA37 on top of the railing on one of the walkways. "We're completely surrounded, a la middle ages. If it were fifteen hundred years ago we would probably fight for the walls until the sieging forces gave up."

"And if we're overrun?"

"We have no keep."

"Keep?" I asked.

"It was like a smaller castle inside the castle," Grass explained. "With a last name like yours you'd think you would know a lot about castles."

"I know that they were made obsolete," I countered.

"And with good reason," Pavel added. Oh Pavel, always jumping to my defense. I'm kidding, he usually takes advantage of any opportunity to bring me down.

"Sergeant," Durant called to me, getting back my attention. "I propose we occupy all the buildings, set up fields of fire and designate firing zones."

"All right, we have enough men to do that now," I nodded. "You have a sniper with you?" I asked.

"No, only the squad's marksman, Private Dibra."

At that, one of the rangers broke off from his squad and walked up to us before giving me a quick salute, which I returned. "Private Dibra, are you qualified to use the SRS-99?" I asked him.

"Yes Sergeant," he replied. "All UNSC Army Rangers are."

"M-hm," I nodded. "Do you have added qualifications or just the standard ones that Ranger School provides?"

"Uh, no, just the default qualification," he replied a little nervously.

"Thanks, dismissed."

He turned around and left, fully understanding that I had chosen not to give him the SRS-99 slung over my back because I didn't consider him to be more qualified than I was. It's not that I didn't consider him qualified, it's just that I was a whole lot more qualified.

"Your entire squad has MA37s," I noted. "And Dibra's DMR."

"We might be elite," Durant said, "but we're still Army, we don't get as much funding as you jarheads do."

"And we are Helljumpers," Pavel added. I don't know whether he meant it as a stealth insult or as some sort of 'I understand' gesture.

"You are," Durant conceded. "I take it you agree?" he asked me.

"Yes, divide your men amongst the buildings, I'll do the same with mine."

"Very well, I will."

Staff Sergeant Waylon Durant took off towards his men. They were all milling about the crate that they had brought with them. I assumed that it contained ammunition and explosives, but knowing how the rangers were they could contain instacrete or food supplies. Durant closed in on them and they huddled around him. He gave them orders and started pointing around to the different buildings. I commanded my team to join me to start doing the same.

I couldn't help but notice the difference between us and the rangers. They were all standing with their backs straight and their rifles held professionally in front of them, listening closely on their seregant's orders. They were all packed in a nice circle, with no one left out of it. When all members of Reaper Squad were in front of me I noticed that they had a much less professional body language. Snark placed the butt of his rifle on the ground and used the muzzle to support his hands. Pavel placed the M247L across his shoulders, using it to prop his arms up. The rest of my team kept glancing at their weapons, checking them while I talked. Even Grass tipped her rifle sideways a couple of times to wipe some dirt from the handhold. The only one of us that had a position and behavior similar to that of the rangers was Caboose, but that wasn't particularly surprising, Caboose being who he was.

"Snark and I will remain on opposite sides of the plateau, we'll use our sniper rifles to take out high-value targets once they attack us. Everyone else will bunk in with another ranger or two, I want you to work as a team, that means that I don't want anyone starting a conversation that points out that Helljumpers are better than Army Rangers, even if we are." That got a round of chuckles from my team. "Everyone can take their picks on which building they want, but I need Caboose near the edge of the cliffs, where your shotgun can be put to best use. Bumblebee, I want you on one of the remaining towers, give the ranger stationed there our other Spanker, just make sure that he knows how to use it before you do."

"Aye, aye," Bee nodded.

"The Daemon tank, take it out first chance you get or as soon as it closes in on our position. Four rockets oughta do it." He nodded. "Pavel and Angel, you know what you're supposed to do, you've got the big guns in here, make good use of them and don't call too much attention to yourselves. Grass…it's probably best if you pick Specialist Winchester for a partner."

"Us girls sticking together? Most guys would think that two girls couldn't handle themselves."

"You're a bit too old to be calling yourself a girl, aren't you?" Angel asked her. "I didn't call myself a boy five years ago."

"Quiet," I ordered. "Don't start a fight in front of them, I want to look professional."

"That's us," Bumblebee said, punching the air. "The image of professionalism."

Hey, at least we were aware of it.

"Regardless," I said before things got out of hand. "I don't want any of the rangers trying to impress you," I told Grass.

"You don't worry about that with the squad," she pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"That's because you're one of the boys," Caboose said. He could also be a real ass when he felt like it. "Believe me when I say that I mean it as a compliment."

"Uh-huh," Grass murmured angrily. "Whatever."

"So, we don't really have much freedom to choose our buildings," Angel half-asked, half-stated.

I shook my head and forced myself to avoid a groan of annoyance. "No. Break. Dismissed. Go. You're giving me a headache."

My squad went off in different directions after polarizing their visors, apparently, we could all agree on the fact that doing it simultaneously looked badass, it was better than putting out hands on the center and yelling 'break!' Snark went to one of the remaining watchtowers and Bumblebee to another one. The rest of them moved towards the ruined buildings, with Grass trudging off to join Specialist Claire Winchester. The sight of those two beautiful women together would serve to fuel fantasies for a long time.

I stood there for a minute, thinking about everything that had transpired in the past few days. I suddenly felt extremely tired, but I couldn't allow myself to doze off. We would be under attack any time now and needed to stay alert. I took another combat stimulant and felt the weariness wash away ever so slowly. After what seemed like half an hour I finally managed to move my feet and head towards my position. My head was hurting and I kept having flashes of that dream I had when leaving cryo. They were getting particularly vivid now. Not Schitzo level, but still a cause of concern.

"Hey," a ranger greeted me when I climbed on top of another watchtower. His IFF had him designated as Private First Class Thor Carlsen.

"Hey," I returned. "Is your name actually Thor? I mean, did your parents name you that?" Wow, way for me to come off as insensitive and rude.

"Yes, I have Danish ancestors, and Thor is a legitimate Danish name."

"Huh, I like it," I told him. "Sort of intimidating."

"Thanks…I guess."

I shrugged him off before setting up my rifle on the floor. While the watchtower had solid safety walls, it didn't allow me to fire from a prone position and made me expose myself when shooting with the sniper mounted on the top of the rails. Snark and I had fixed that using a laser cutter that Caboose had on him when we dropped. I was grateful for that, I had a very wide angle to shoot from and increased protection from enemy fire.

"So, what do you see Sergeant?" PFC Carlsen asked me.

"The same thing you do Thor, only with a lot more detail." I zoomed in closer on the enemy line. They had erected fortifications around us and even had one deployable firebase to my right. It was pretty far away from us, but I could tell that it was hastily set up. I hadn't witnessed the construction process itself, but Snark and Pavel could attest to that. "Their numbers just keep getting bigger," I said after a while. "When we first got here there were barely fifty covvies lurking about. Things started getting ugly once we pissed of the zealot."

"You pissed of a zealot? How?"

"Desecrating dead bodies," I said calmly while shifting my scope towards a group of three ghosts, all of them unmanned and out in the open. "They wasted half their numbers throwing themselves at us before they finally got up here. Finally got some vehicles too…"

"Then why aren't we getting shelled by Wraiths?" Carlsen asked.

"Bumblebee pulled off an impressive stunt with his Spanker. They probably just don't want to give away their positions."

"Stunt? What kind of stunt?"

"We changed the rocket's configuration and had it strike a Daemon from above, wrecking its cannon. He's got a vid of it if you want to see it."

"You can do that?"

"You calling me a liar?" I asked in a joking tone.

"No, it's just that they never taught us that in bootcamp."

"Join the club buddy."

The wind started picking up after a while. The rocky surface of Wolff proved to possess an extraordinarily high amount of dust, and soon enough visibility was down. The last thing we needed right now was a dust storm, but the gods above had deemed it fit to give our enemies a smokescreen and make the defense of our little castle a little bit harder.

"Hey Thor, can't you spin your hammer or something? Make the wind go away?" I asked.

"I forgot it back home," Carlsen shrugged. "I can try waving my dick around, but I doubt that it'll help."

"You'll probably just get it shot off," I agreed after laughing loudly. "Snark, heat scope working for ya'?"

"Nah," he replied. "Dust is too hot from the sun, I can barely make out shapes through the dust."

"Hmmm. Caboose, Angel, see if you can get some atmospheric data," I ordered, changing my attention to the other two marines.

"You've been here for three days, right?" Carlsen asked after a lull in the conversation.

"Yup."

"Has it been tough?"

"Yup."

"Huh."

I clicked a couple of buttons on the oracle scope before peering back through it. The enhanced zoom allowed me to make out the vague shapes of Covenant barriers. I could only spot the deployable ones because of their shine, the solid ones were nearly impossible to make out through the storm. I couldn't even spot enemy movement. We wouldn't be able to tell if we were under attack until it was too late. Or at least later than usual.

"Sergeant, do you see any movement?" Durant asked through the comm channel.

"All I'm seeing is dust."

"Uh, bad news," Angel announced. "Looks like the dust storm is gonna last a while. Three hours, apparently."

"Sheeit," Durant muttered. "Everyone ready for an attack."

"You heard the man," I seconded. "Eyes down range."

The storm quickly started picking up in intensity. Gusts of wind began making scream-like sounds and banging against the towers. I wasn't particularly affected by it, the hurricanes on Jericho VII were ten times worse than this. Hell, the rain obscured visibility a whole lot more than some dust could. Still, I would've taken another campaign back on Jericho VII any time before this glorified asteroid. Even if only to be back home once again.

"Sarge, I'm getting some movement," Snark warned all of us. "Not making anything solid, but it looks like some vehicles."

"Yeah, I see them too, Wraiths and Ghosts by the look of it."

"It sounds like we're in a fantasy novel when you say it like that," Pavel pointed out. "Who was the genius that thought that naming all covvie vehicles after a spirit was a smart idea?"

"I know, right?" Bumblebee agreed. "It's only a matter of time before we run out synonyms."

"I think that daemon was probably the last one," Angel said, throwing his penny in.

"Umm," one of the rangers interrupted.

"Right, lock and load," I ordered.

They opened up with three mortar shots. The blue-white orbs landed without harming anyone, but they destroyed a large portion of one of the walkways and landed too close to the Onager for my comfort.

"Bee, move away from the tower and pound those Wraiths," I ordered. "I don't want you made just yet."

"Aye, aye."

He fired two rockets in quick succession. Two twin explosions were followed immediately by a larger one, signaling the death of the enemy mobile artillery. That's when they started hitting us with everything that they had.

"Fuck!" I cursed after a needle flew through the hole cut in the safety rails and scraped my pauldron. "Relocating."

"Do I have to relocate too?" PFC Carlsen asked.

"Probably for the best," I replied, grabbing my SRS and picking it up. "Stay at the back and wait for them to locate me again, then you can climb up."

"Understood."

I had a mortar shot land awfully close to me, but my armor protected me from the scorching heat well enough. I kept on running away from the watchtower I had been occupying while multi-colored plasma adorned the air around me. It might've been a beautiful spectacle were it not for the fact that a solid hit from any of those colorful fireworks would kill me.

I slid into a recently dug trench right on the edge of the cliff and planted my rifle on the ground while I sunk down to the waist in the trench. I took a knee and aimed through the Oracle scope. The plasma bursts were easier to trace than tracers, I quickly located a lance of jackals and grunts lead by an elite minor. The elite directed their fire to areas where we were likely to be taking cover behind while the little aliens fired blindly. They were currently peppering the watchtower that me and Thor had abandoned. The roof was already melting from the concentrated fire.

"Bangarang," I muttered.

What? If I'm going to get a catchphrase it's either that or the 'aim to please' one.

I squeezed the trigger and hit the elite square in the neck. The bullet severed its cartoid and jugular veins, or the equivalent in squidhead. The jackal nearest the elite was splattered with blood from the arterial spray but otherwise remained impassive. I switched targets and immediately located a high-value target.

Well, it was not a high-value target per se, but it was a grunt manning a Wraith's turret. I ended its miserable existence with a quick shot to the chest. This time the kill was much more clean, with some blood leaking from the entrance wound and a comparatively small splatter on the back. The grunt slumped over forwards and the firing stopped immediately.

"Sniper! Wraiths are homing in on your position!"

"That's me," Snark said for my benefit. "Śukriyā."

"That means thank you," Grass said.

"She can't speak Hindi," I informed everyone, "she's just very perceptive." The sarcasm wasn't lost to anybody, Helljumper or otherwise.

"Oh Frank, always bringing the fairer sex down," Pavel said in mock disapproval.

I ignored him and took the head off a jackal marksman that thought that it was being clever by avoiding firing at us until it found a suitable position. Unfortunately for it, it only focused on Private Dibra's DMR fire. A sniper round can do a lot of damage to the thin and scrawny body of a jackal. The round entered in the chest and exited through the tailbone. It was a pretty messy kill too.

"I'm seeing grav lifts!"

"Everyone ready!" Durant's voice boomed. For a moment I thought of Scarecrow. Both their voices were similar in tone, but they sounded almost identical when they screamed.

"Hey Sarge, you oughta get your mind back to the battlefield."

I looked to my right and almost had a heart attack when I saw Scarecrow sitting beside me, one leg stretched, the other one bent. He used one hand to prop himself up while the other one rested on his knee. He looked calm, peaceful almost.

"You know, it's probably for the best if you don't join the club," Schitzo suggested, sitting down next to him. "Francisco here has enough problems as it is."

"You're probably right," Scarecrow, Unscarecrow, agreed. I blinked and just like that he was gone, leaving only Schitzo behind.

"He was right though," Schitzo said. "Eyes front, or rather, up."

I looked up to see a blue ball of dead descending. It was going to land right on top of me. I scrambled out of the foxhole and took two steps before diving away. The shockwave from the explosion coupled with the lower gravity served to propel me further than I would've thought possible. The landing was just as rough as always, my nose banged against my visor inside my helmet. I felt something wet running down my nose and confirmed that I was bleeding when I saw a stain slightly below eye level.

I had to ignore it, the gravity lifts were already being deployed directly at my feet.

"Kill those Wraiths!"

"I've got squid heads! Close range!"

"Stick to your FOF, Ranger!" Angel shouted. "Grass, three grunts closing in behind you, they're priming grenades!"

I aimed at the edge of the cliff, making sure that I wasn't too close to the edge so that the strong winds couldn't push me down. I spotted an ultra jogging towards the purple gravity lift and fired two shots at it. The first one hit it in the shoulder, killing its shields. The second one hit it on top of his skull, killing the alien. It landed on the gravity lift and was launched upwards, landing a few feet away from me with a dull thud. I shot another elite, I ran out of ammo for my magazine just as it jumped on the gravity lift. I tossed the SRS behind me while drawing my BR55. I aimed at the elite as it climbed up, but I couldn't get a bead on it. The blue elite fired at me with its plasma rifle before landing. The rounds landed all around me but failed to hit me.

I fell to the ground while attempting to avoid the plasma. The elite landed a few feet away from me and started firing on my position. I did the exact same thing at the exact same thing. A trail of plasma moved from the inside of my left leg to my groin. One round hit next to my ankle, the second one almost hit my knee. The third one hit me square in the chest. There was no fourth one.

My wild firing hit the unshielded elite. Not a single one of my shots missed, all of the bullet wounds were clustered on a small area on the left side of the elite's chest, where the heart would be. The alien adopted an almost human expression and dropped its smoking weapon before taking a hand up to its chest and feeling it. It then looked at its blood-covered hand in shock. It occurred to me that that elite looked smaller than most, almost as if it was younger.

Five grunts landed immediately afterwards. I shot at one of them, hitting it in the knee and groin and making it fall down. Before I could finish it off concentrated bursts from assault rifles got the best of them.

"You owe me one!" Grass said. It was a very weak and failed attempt at humor.

"We'll call it even," I replied. Equally weak attempt only slightly more successful.

I pushed myself back with my feet until I hit my SRS. I turned around and grabbed it before standing up and bolting towards the nearest building. It was almost completely destroyed. There was a mortar crater a meter from one corner, the impact had been enough to collapse all of that corner and a large section of that wall. Plasma impacts had taken bits and pieces from the damaged wall, there were intact needles lining up the side walls.

"Incoming," I warned, changing my tone to let Grass know that I wasn't talking about plasma.

I vaulted over the wall and took two quick steps in an attempt to regain balance, when that failed I opted to slam my shoulder into the floor as a way to stop myself. Yes, it was a choice that I made. I didn't fall down. No, I am not defensive.

"Shit, you're smoking!" Winchester exclaimed.

"Why thank you, good to know that my hard work is appreciated," I smiled at her.

"She's talking about your armor Sarge," Grass said after squeezing off a burst at an unseen enemy.

I looked down to my battered chest piece. It was completely gray, all the remaining paint had been burnt off by the plasma impact. The heated metal was letting out a steady trail of steam.

"Crap," I muttered before pulling on the quick-release clamps, letting the heavy piece of metal fall down to the ground. It made pinging noises as it hit the rocks. I briefly took off my helmet to inspect the damage. There was a small tear in my suit, probably from the heat. The tear was about the size of three of my fingers, both in length and width. The wound itself was slightly smaller. The burn was not particularly serious, I probably would've rated it at second degree, but then again, I didn't have MD after my name on my card. I didn't even have a card.

"Here," Grass said, tossing a can of biofoam to Winchester.

The female ranger caught it deftly before pouring a little on my wound, eliciting a yelp of pain from me. She rubbed it in a little bit too roughly. Only then did I realize that this was her little idea of payback for me beating her on the fighting ring.

"A few days ago you were punching me, now you're rubbing my chest lovingly?" I wheezed, trying to get in as much oxygen as possible without my helmet on.

She pulled back her hand and gave me a couple of light slaps on the chest. I didn't recoil and took the punishment like a man. Mostly.

"If you consider that longingly, then you're into some weird shit," she said before taking two steps back and moving towards the destroyed wall and firing her MA37. I waited a moment for the pain to recede before reaching for my chest piece and slapping it back on, I winced from the heat and took deep breaths to calm myself down. The layer of biofoam protected me from the heat a little bit, but the chest piece cooled down soon enough.

I put on my helmet and sealed it.

Ready.

I cocked my battle rifle's slide and took a step towards the wall. I looked out and saw a dozen covvies firing and using some sort of weird devices to dig small trenches quickly. There were a few deployable covers strewn about, but they served only as temporary respite for the smaller aliens. They mainly kept heavy fire on our position to keep our heads down.

"There are Banshee's strafing us," a ranger cried. "North to south."

"Grass, man the cannon, we'll cover you. Bee?"

"I'm trying!" he replied. "Can't see anything, locking system's not working."

"Keep trying," I boomed back at him. "Winchester! Suppressing fire on those grunts!"

"Ready when you are," Grass nodded at us.

"Go!" I ordered.

Grass dashed out the building and vaulted over the outermost walkway while Winchester laid suppressing fire with her MA37. I turned around and propped my battle rifle on the destroyed wall. Most of the grunts had been hit with automatic fire, the elites did some completely unnecessary combat rolls to get out of the way, and the jackals just raised their shields. I took aim at one of the jackals and put four bullets in its foot to make it drop. It fell on its knee but kept its shield up, showing remarkable pain tolerance. I switched to the jackal next to it and repeated the process, this bird actually fell sideways, allowing me to put three clean shots in its torso.

"Keep those elites down," I told Winchester. "Don't let them peek out."

"Got it."

Three jackals had been left behind when the elites hid behind their hastily-made foxholes. Two of them were in front of the one I had wounded, using their shields to protect their wounded comrade. I tried getting around their shields but failed miserably, they weren't even firing back, just moving backwards slowly so that they could help their wounded partner. After sixteen rounds of nothing I got tired and picked up a grenade from my belt.

"Frag out," I warned almost casually.

It was a pretty crappy toss, but it was meant like that. I threw it at the ground and let it roll towards the jackals. The detonation was enough to destroy both their shields and kill one of them. I quickly killed the other one before shooting the wounded jackal in the head, putting it out of its misery.

"Banshees," Schitzo said nonchalantly.

"Getdown!" I yelled as I shoved Winchester to the ground.

Several heavy plasma rounds collided with the wall behind us, the miniature explosions that these caused had a rain of polycrete bits falling down on both of us. I prayed for them not to fuel rod our asses and thanked the gods when they didn't.

"C'mon, up, up!" I said, pulling Winchester up roughly. "Good as new." I fired three blind bursts to discourage the three enemy elites from charging at us. "Bee!"

"Can't see them!" he complained. "And I'm too goddamned busy on the Wraiths."

"Grass?"

In typical Grass fashion, she didn't give me a straight answer, instead opting to simply fire the Onager at whichever unlucky craft got in her crosshairs. Not that I'm complaining about it, I got the general state of her situation. The noise dampeners in my helmet immediately went a level up. If she fired her Onager for long I would need to have my hearing organs replaced. Well, I honestly have no idea what I would need replaced, I just knew that they would probably have to fix something if I became deaf.

Yeah.

"Winchester! Small squad flanking you on the left!" an unknown ranger warned.

I immediately looked to my left and confirmed that there was a small group of four grunts and an elite were moving directly on our flank as fast as the grunt's stubby legs allowed. They were shuffling from crater to crater, three grunts would stay back and provide covering fire for the elite and another grunt to allow them to dive for cover. The elite and the grunt then returned the favor. Rinse and repeat.

"I'll handle them," I let her know. "You keep those three split chins down."

"Since when do you give me orders?" she asked. She didn't mean it, but there was some annoyance in her tone.

"Since I outrank you, which means since you joined the military."

"Ass."

"Bitch."

"Ugh!"

Yeah. Great start to a professional partnership.

My first target was the last grunt of the group. I hit it in the neck with a burst to the chest and neck. The other two jumped behind some piece of rock that I could've sworn wasn't there when I last looked. It certainly helped the invading aliens, that's for sure.

Three bursts later there was only an elite left to contend with. It was an elite minor, meaning that it had relatively weak shields and little combat experience. I switched to full-auto and peppered it as it tried to dive to a crater. I burned through its shields fast enough and then it died from a serious case of lead poisoning.

You know, because of the bullets? They're made of lead, and lead can poison you, and I filled it with lead bullets, so it died from poisoning. Pretty clever, huh? Maybe I was a standup comedian in a past life or some shit like that.

Feel free to forget the previous paragraph ever existed.

"Reloading!"

"Don't announce it!" I snapped.

Of course it was too late to do anything about it, by the time I turned around and brought my gun to bear an elite was already making a run for the glorified closet we were using as cover.

"Get down!" I yelled for the second time in five minutes.

She moved her upper body down just in time to avoid an elite slamming her head off. The alien landed on both feet, something that I didn't manage on my vault over the torn-down wall. It made me feel…irritated.

I had less than half a magazine in my weapon, and I emptied it all on the elite major. It lashed out with a donkey kick at me, hitting me on the chest and slamming me against my wall. The armor mitigated the damage, but I was still thrown backwards and slammed against the wall. My SRS dislodged from its magnetic clamps on the back. It didn't matter, the elite had Claire pinned to the ground a hand raised to bash her head in, it probably wouldn't have been very hard for the alien too. For all her combat skills, she didn't know what to do. She panicked, plain and simple.

"Behind you, you fuck!" I taunted as I launched myself towards it. The hunched position of the elite and the force of my tackle slammed the elite face-first against the semi-destroyed wall of the little room. It was a practiced technique, time proven and reliable. You tackled the big, scary alien and your friend shot and killed the big, scary alien.

Fuck.

The elite shoved itself backwards. Then it jumped on its back.

I got the wind knocked out of me and let go of my rifle. I held on to the elite, gripping its neck with both hands.

"Shoot the motherfucker!" I yelled.

The elite kicked out wildly, shoving me against the floor and hitting a scared Specialist Winchester in the hip, slamming her against the floor.

"You're worse than useless," I muttered. How I had the time to say that and not punch out the elite, I don't know.

The elite then drew an energy dagger and tried stabbing at my legs. I unwrapped my leg from the elite and the dagger missed. That made me realize that I had my own knives strapped to various convenient places on my body. Funny how you can miss some things when you're being crushed by an eight foot tall monster. I bent my leg backwards and let go of the elite with one hand, reaching for the Damascus steel knife. I avoided another attempt at stabbing me from the elite, twisting awkwardly to save my leg from being sliced off. I drew the blade and brought it up. The pattern shone as I brought it down on the elite's neck.

The first attempt failed utterly, being deflected by the armor. That served in my advantage, because it prompted the elite to roll and get me off its back. I immediately stood up and ducked below the alien's arm as it tried to use its dagger to decapitate me. And with one fluid motion, I brought my knife up on the elite's jaws. It went through the fangs and the roof of its mouth, embedding itself all the way inside its brain. Death was instantaneous, and not nearly painful enough for the stupid fuck.

"What the fuck?" I cursed as I shoved the elite aside before jumping for my BR55. I ejected the magazine and shoved in another one. I immediately fired three bursts wildly, sending aliens for cover. "Get up!" I ordered Winchester. "Get the fuck up." When she didn't move I approached her and slapped her helmet hard. She shook and look at me as if I was some sort of surreal image.

I'm pretty handsome, but not that much.

"I-I-I-I-"

"Yeah, yeah, combat virgin." I reached for her own dropped assault rifle and shoved it into her hands. "This wasn't the first time, and it won't be the last. You signed up for it, best get used to it."

Plasma fire was pelting the walls, leaving me no alternative but to toss a grenade and hope that it was enough to send aliens diving for cover. I waited for the explosion and emerged as soon as it happened. The frag hadn't killed anything, but the firing had stopped. I took aim at trench and blew a grunts brains with one well-placed shot. Winchester propped her rifle up and sprayed a pair of jackals that tried peeking. I nodded at her and we set ourselves to killing every alien stupid enough to leave cover.

"We're falling back!"

"So are we," Pavel called out.

I saw the dots representing the retreating Rangers and Helljumpers moving slowly towards the center of Reaper Hill. Occasionally a group of red dots would pop up where one of my allies had spotted an alien, painting its location for us. The Ranger's helmets had a similar HUD and combat interface to us, but it was last-generation and a little bit more antiquated than the state-of-the-art stuff that we often got.

"We're going to need to pull back," I told Winchester. I spoke into my helmet, "Sergeant, order everyone to pull back to the next position, we can't afford a bracketed line."

"Agreed," Durant replied. "Everyone fall back!"

"C'mon, I'll cover you," I told Specialist Winchester. I looked out the wall and ducked back down immediately to avoid a shower of needlers. I peeked over again and fired wildly, sending the elite diving for cover. "Go, go, go!"

I fired another burst, sending the same eager elite reeling backwards from the impact. It fell to the ground on its ass and got killed for its lack of balance. I targeted a jackal and hit it twice in the arm before I ran out of ammunition. I reloaded and ran to our second fall-back position. A few bolts and needles flew past me, but none of them were close. The covvies were just spraying and hoping they would get lucky.

"You aight?" I asked Winchester. She nodded shakily as a reply. "Deep breaths," I ordered. "You need to calm down."

I thought they saw combat back in Wilk…

"Durant! Can you get us some air support!" Pavel shouted. "We won't last much longer!"

"Can't you do it?" he returned.

"Long story," I voiced. "See if B Company can spare a Falcon or two, better yet, have them send us an attack Pelican."

"Roger, I'll do my best."

"Try to sound desperate," I suggested. "Tug at their heartstrings."

"I do have some experience at this," Durant let me know.

Unlike the rest of your squad…

My current piece of cover was the outermost walkway. It had sturdy walls at waist-height that would protect me from anything short of a plasma grenade or a fuel rod. I looked over and saw that several aliens were already taking cover in the torn down building that we had just abandoned.

"Boom," Angel muttered. That boom was followed by an explosion.

I looked towards it and saw a fireball consuming a building similar to the one that I had been in. Apparently, Angel had decided to blow the goddamned thing sky high as soon as the Covenant occupied it. It was a pretty good idea. I probably should've done something similar myself, but I was packing frags, not timed or remote detonation explosives.

"Cover me," I ordered Winchester. "Now."

She fired wildly while I tossed a grenade at the building. It bounced off the edge of the window frame and back out. I cursed and dove back behind cover. The explosion probably damaged the polycrete wall a little bit, but it wouldn't have been nearly enough to tear it down. I thought about trying again, but if we didn't get some help I would need more grenades than I had. Besides, it wasn't like this situation was that desperate. At least not yet.

"Lay down suppressing fire, I'll take them out when they pop up for a look."

We managed to hold the onslaught of ugly aliens for about an hour. She would fire a quick burst and I would then pop up and try to take out the first alien that tried returning fire. The covvies weren't the best strategists or soldiers, but they weren't by any means dumb. I got an elite and a grunt on my first two tries, but then they just kept their heads down, occasionally firing a burst at our position. We did pretty much the same thing, keeping an eye on them so that they wouldn't get the jump on us. Eventually the hilltop settled into relative quiet, with only sporadic gunfire and plasma fire.

"You got them to send us help?" a Ranger asked after a lull in the battle. "They can't stay this quiet for long."

"They gave me a vague answer."

"Ooo, I love those," Snark said cheerily. "Not really."

"What are they sending us?" I asked.

"Again, the lieutenant was vague, we might be getting a couple of Falcons or the whole company."

"Or nothing at all," Angel suggested.

"Aye, that too," Bee agreed.

After discussing the issue some more and tossing around a few ideas on how to push back the covvies we all decided to simply wait for whatever would happen. We didn't have any viable way to evacuate the plateau. Sure, the Rangers could fly off, but they didn't have anywhere to land, and it's not like their jetpacks had an incredible range. If they made it past the wall of plasma fire that would rise up to meet them, they would still fall short of safety. Our last option was to hide in the hatch that concealed the Onager when it was not being used and close it. We could last a couple of hours down there, but it wouldn't take the covvies that long to cut through the steel blast doors.

Either we got help or we were brutally killed, it was as simple as that.

"You all right?" I asked Winchester after killing an alien for the first time in over forty-five minutes.

"I'm fine," she insisted.

"This your first time?" I asked. I had already assumed that it was and voiced it out loud, but I was only being supportive. Or something.

"Yeah, first deployment, second time I've seen combat. The first time was a lot easier."

"It gets easier with time," I told her. "You get used to it."

She didn't say anything for a few seconds. "How was your first time?"

"Awkward, funny, and a big letdown."

"You're talking about sex, aren't you?"

"I thought you were too…" I deadpanned.

She giggled slightly, considerably lightening up the mood. I smiled at that and even chuckled a little. "Nah, my first time in combat was a shitstorm."

"Couldn't have been worse than this," Winchester said. She actually sounded like she wanted her first combat experience to be worse than mine. I would've been glad if that were true, but unfortunately, it wasn't. Unless of course, we all got killed by the end of the day.

"I did an emergency drop out of the UNSC Count Me In. My squad and I jumped out when it seemed like the ship was going to break apart. We all landed away from one another."

"And…"

"And I landed about two miles behind enemy lines. I actually saw what was left of my ship crash-land into Covenant-held ground. The helmsman had enough courage to do that by himself. All of the bridge crew had been killed in the space battle."

"Oh, what did you do next?"

"I set myself to getting back towards friendly territory."

"You didn't meet up with your squad?"

"I didn't have any way to do that. I think most of them were killed while on the ship, something exploded right behind me. My best friend managed to make it into the pod."

What happened to him."

"Dug his own grave," I replied, thinking back to my days in boot camp. I could remember all my original squad mates. Jonah, Chow, Ramsey, and Dutch. "I saw a pod in the city, might've been his."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, not your fault. Besides, the past is the past, nothing I can do about it."

I was now wishing that the conversation hadn't taken that path. While I had gotten over the premature deaths of my friends and squad mates and all the men that had been under my command before Reaper came along, I still missed them sometimes. I think most of you can probably relate to that, whether it is a dead relative, a girl you dated, or a friend from your hometown, you'll always miss them in one way or another. I especially missed Jonah, not all the time, but every now and then I would see something that reminded me of the good times we had.

"But don't worry," I suddenly said in a cheerful tone. "There's still some chance that your first time gets worse than mine, and you get bragging rights afterwards."

"Or we die," Claire reminded me.

"Die? I'm not dying, at least not yet, and since you're with me you practically have immunity too."

She smiled again, at least that's what I thought, because her eyes lit up a little and her cheeks went slightly up. Even though Claire was only a pair of gray eyes right now, she was still incredibly attractive.

"Good to know that," she nodded at me.

I sat back down and let Specialist Winchester take 'watch' while I rested a little bit. There was a small section of the wall that had been broken off because some reason or another, it could be used to keep watch on the enemy-occupied construction in front of us. While she kept watch I made sure to keep my eyes peeled in case some covvies tried moving on any other side of the plateau, I could spot some places where they were taking cover right now, but was thankfully safe from enemy fire.

"Ok, listen up!" Staff Sergeant Durant boomed. "Good news, Hernandez managed to divert a couple of Falcon gunships and I convinced Salas to toss in a pair of Hornets."

"That means two or three trips," I murmured.

"The ETA for the gunships is half an hour!" he continued. "We need a place for them to land."

My mind raced through the different places that they could actually touchdown, even if it was just a quick landing.

"We could put the Onager underground and use the doors as a landing pad," Grass suggested. "That way we don't have to fight our way out."

"I agree," Angel said, all professional. "We'll need to rotate so that the whole perimeter is protected."

"Not necessarily," another Ranger chimed in. "The Hornets and Falcon's door gunnner's could keep one side at bay while the we keep the rest of the covvies with their heads down."

"And after we leave?" Caboose asked. "We just let them destroy the gun?"

"That might be for the best," I muttered. "Especially under the circumstances."

"That gun is this colony's only protection!" he exclaimed.

"They made their choice," Durant said quietly. "And so have we, I'll contact the pilots and tell them the plan, everyone else, stay sharp."

I checked the clock on my HUD and started a thirty-minute timer. The Rangers and my squad started checking their weapons, everyone became eager and nervous. Now that we had a reasonable hope of getting extracted no one wanted to screw it up. I made sure that my BR55's chamber was clean and had a bullet ready to go before counting my remaining ammunition. I had enough magazines left to last a good hour and a half of a mild skirmish. Probably enough to make it through the evac just fine. Probably.

"One minute," I thought out loud, checking the decreasing numbers.

"Fireteam One, start falling back to the Onager. Grass, put it underground and close the blast doors," Durant ordered.

"Rest of us, hold the line," I added.

We started firing to hide the noise of the Onager cannon going below ground. The dust storm probably did a pretty good job at hiding it from sight, but the mechanism still made quite some noise. I focused on taking shots at the top of the broken walls of the building in front of me. The small storage closet was nothing but a pile of rubble now, and every shot that I fired added a little bit of broken down polycrete to the mix. Some of the covvies got scared by our display of firepower and quickly started firing back wild shots. They had a slight altitude advantage, but it wasn't useful in this situation.

"Thirty seconds!"

Grass, Bumblebee, and Snark were already waiting for the Falcon gunships to land. Accompanying them were five Rangers. From what I could tell from my HUD's minimap they had formed a circle and were waiting for the gunships to touch down on their position. They couldn't actually pop smoke as it wouldn't work with all the wind and dust flying around.

A pair of orange flashes streaked down the edge of my vision and hit the storage closet in front of us, sending it and everything inside into oblivion.

"Missed me?"

"I'm flattered you came to rescue me," I replied with a smile. "Good to have you here Lieutenant."

"The great Fransisco Castillo asking for emergency evacuation? I wouldn't miss this for the world," Hardwick informed me.

I chuckled. "Just do your job." I turned to Winchester. "C'mon, let's fall back to the next line."

"Sure," she answered. She sounded weird, I'd have to recommend Nezarian to have her see a shrink.

I know, I know, I'm a hypocrite.

We were under relative safety as the two Hornets exploded every building under Covenant control and the Flacon's door gunners kept everything else under cover. The M247 machine guns on the sides stopped firing as four men hopped inside the VTOLs. Normally a Falcon would only carry three and the two gunners, but we were sort of in a pickle and needed to get out of here fast. Still, one extra person on board was pushing our luck.

"So, Specialist, what did you study? In college I mean."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you are a specialist and nor a private," I said simply, taking aim at a couple of running grunts before gunning them down. "And you're too young to have any meaningful job-skills. No offense."

"Do you really want to talk about it now?" she asked incuriously.

"Why not?"

"A few things come to mind, namely the battle going on."

"Ok then."

I had switched to full-auto to keep the elites and jackals down. Most of the grunts had been caught out in the open and didn't have gauntlets or shields to protect themselves from the barrage of lead and missiles.

"Watch out, elites and grunts are being launched up," Hardwick warned.

"Can't you kill the grav lifts?" Claire asked.

I slapped my visor with my left hand.

"I'll get right to it," the other Hornet pilot said.

"You flyboys have it easy," I muttered.

"Agreed," Pavel said.

"Careful Frank," Emily warned jokingly.

"You'll cut me off?"

"For starters."

"Cut you off from what?" Angel asked.

Thankfully, a large explosion caused by a Wraith's mortar had us all running for cover. Yes, I said thankfully, there are some things that are better left not talked about. A couple of explosions rocked the ground but failed to land close enough to do damage. What worried me was the band of elites and jackals that was probably running for our position. I left cover to take a look, and sure enough, crazed elites were running at us.

"Fuck," I muttered. As simple as it can get.

I emptied half a magazine on the closest one, killing it. I emptied the other half on the one that had just gained the 'closest to me' position, killing it as well. Having two of their bravest comrades killed gave the elites a stop. They decided to crouch behind cover instead of just keep running to their deaths. I smiled at that.

"Claire," I started. "Will you kindly do something?"

She looked up at me irritably and left cover as well. She had great aim, I'll give her that. Her first two bursts hit an elite in the chest, sending it reeling backwards from the kinetic force. The third one hit its shoulder, draining its shields completely and allowing me to take it out with a quick headshot. The elite collapsed to the floor with half its head missing. She repeated the process with another minor and I killed it with three shots to the neck.

"Quite stealing my kills," she complained.

Ah, that moment when you think that the moment you fire at an alien it is your designated kill. It happens to all of us, Pavel and I would get into fights whenever I finished off an elite that he had weakened. I'd get pissed when I killed a grunt only for him to spray the rest of the squad and take them out. But we grew out of it, this wasn't a competition, this was war, it didn't matter who killed the aliens as long as they were dead.

So I told that to Claire.

"Fine," she grudgingly admitted. "You've got a point."

"Fifteen seconds!" Angel shouted.

"Everybody get ready!" I ordered.

The first Falcon touched down and four Rangers quickly got in. The pilot pulled up as quickly as possible to allow the other gunships to land. There were only five of us on the plateau now. The covvies had noticed and were doing their best to shoot us or the aircraft.

"Let's go," I ordered, pulling Claire by the collar and pushing her towards the Falcon. She stumbled a little before she settled into a sprint. I could catch the silhouettes of the other three members of my team running towards the gunship as well. I turned around to face the covvies and fired bursts at the ones that I could see through the dust. A couple of jackals went down, but I wasn't doing any real damage, especially when there were dozens of extra elites that had to be killed.

"Frank, come on!" Pavel shouted.

I turned around and made a run towards the Falcon.

"Watch out!"

I looked up just in time and dove sideways. The mortar shot hit closer to the Falcon than me, but I was still propelled backwards from the explosion. Another shot landed on the other side of the gunship and it started lifting off.

"It's getting too hot," the pilot said. "I'm sorry."

"Shit," I muttered, still on the ground. "Em, I need a favor."

"I can't land, taking position to at your eleven o'clock."

I looked towards her direction and saw a waypoint appear right where her Hornet was. There were sixty meters between me and living to see another day. I propped myself to my knees and holstered my rifle over my back before drawing my pistol. I took off, running as fast as I could. Plasma bolts flew at me but failed to connect. I ran in between three elites, all of them looked surprised to see a puny human charging through them. So surprised that they failed to fire at me.

I shot them once, sending them backwards and buying some extra time. I vaulted over a walkway and slid on the ground, rocks hitting my armor. My chest was starting to hurt like shit, the wound on it was stinging. I kept running as fast as I could. Two grunts squealed when I flew past them, but I forced myself to ignore them and just ran towards the edge.

"You're gonna have to jump!"

I took two steps and jumped off the edge of the cliff.

A couple of blue plasma rifle shots collided with the frame of the hornet, leaving black scorch marks on the plating. I stretched out my left hand, suddenly wishing that I hadn't drawn my pistol. I slammed hard into the Hornet, rocking it sideways from the impact. My left hand gripped one of the safety handles and I fired the rest of my magazine before actually turning around and sitting down on the platform.

"Go, go, go!" I shouted.

"Shut up and let me work!"

Emily's Hornet banked sideways as a volley of plasma shots flew at us. A couple of blue blobs collided with one of the rotors, but they didn't cause any significant damage. I strapped my pistol onto my thigh before drawing my rifle again. I took a couple of potshots at the muzzle flashes of the plasma weapons, trying to pin down their positions accurately. I'm pretty sure that I didn't hit anything other than rock, but by that time the Hornet was up and quickly leaving small arms range. I allowed myself a sigh of relief.

"You owe me," Hardwick said.

"I do," I admitted. "Would you rather I-"

"Line's still open," she interrupted.

"We can hear you Frank," Pavel reminded me.

"Oh, well, um. Yeah. Nice work people."

"Thanks," Snark replied dully. "Really."

We might've failed on our mission after disobeying direct orders, but hey, we were alive and well. Physically speaking of course, my head was one hell of a mess.

---

So there we have it, chapter 112, thanks to Sniper Fodder for proof-reading and pointing out some inaccuracies as well as plot-holes.

Well, what am I to say here? Perhaps I could get started with the sexual tension with Frank and Claire. Gotta love her last name, Winchester, sounds pretty awesome. Back to the sexual tension. I suddenly feel like I might've gotten a little bit over my head writing in so many romantic interest characters. I know three isn't that many, but I'm going to have to write myself out of this hole. And I'm going to do it masterfully if I have anything to say about it. Next, the knives. I actually loved the idea of naming it after the girls in Frank's life, but it would frankly be a little bit weird if he named them after them while they were still alive. I can vouch for Layla and you know damn well that all the others are still alive and kicking. Perhaps something more suitably evil-sounding would work. Still open to suggestions though.

One last thing that I forgot to say a few chapters back, you know the Daemon tanks? The ones I based after the tanks in Star Wars? Yeah, I used ten different online thesaurus and the only other synonym for 'ghost' that I found was daemon. It annoyed me beyond belief, I mean, Ghost, Banshee, Shadow, Specter, Revenant, Phantom, Spirit. I mean, how many words for ghost can you possibly find? At least daemon sounds pretty badass considering that it was the last possible pick.

As always, thanks for your comments, hope you enjoyed, and stay strong.

-casquis