Chapter CXLII: Hunted

September 5, 2545 (UNSC Calendar)/

Pampa Mountain Ridge, Acheron-VII, Beta Rho Omega System

"Dawn came early that day. The planet was burning."

My head hurt. A lot. It wasn't the only thing that hurt either, both of my shoulder blades felt as if they had been stomped on and my entire back was throbbing. I have no idea how I was able to move my legs, by all means I should've been paralyzed or worse. I struggled to stand up, but my arms gave under my weight and I slammed back down on the blood tray. I rolled from my belly to my back, groaning quietly as I did so and slowly reached for the pouch strapped to my left thigh. I opened it and rummaged through its contents, feeling around until I found what I was looking for.

The small cylinder contained synthetic adrenaline. You could take half a dose or a full one. A half a dose would bring anyone back from the brink as if they were new. A full dose would bring anyone back from the brink and improve them until it wore off. It was not advised to take a full dose, that much adrenaline could kill you.

I injected myself with a full dose.

My eyelids, which had been trying to close were suddenly open. I could hear my heart beating at a hundred miles an hour. I could see the little groves and scratches in the ceiling, I could see the colors of the wiring that had been exposed by the accident. I could hear the blood dripping from the cockpit and I could hear ragged breaths all around me.

I could feel the wetness in my right hand, but all of a sudden it didn't bother me anymore.

I examined my hand and saw that shards of glass were embedded all over the palm. I yanked them out quickly with my other hand and produced a bandage to stop the blood flow. It didn't hurt one bit, but I knew better than to leave the nasty wound exposed to the open.

Ok, we crashed. I'm alive and I wasn't strapped. That means that everyone else should have a good chance of being alive, except for the guys in the Tortoise strapped to the tail. Well, of course the pilots are dead, they're always dead when a gunship crashes. Last I remember was Hayes telling me something about a prowler.

Prowler: UNSC stealth ship, usually under ONI jurisdiction. Battlegroup Flawless has one prowler with them. I don't remember the name, but it is way too long for a ship. Funny, though. What was it? Doesn't matter. Prowler, something about a prowler.

Of course! The entire battlegroup retreated and we were left behind.

But what was that about a prowler?

Right…

"Stealth ship, can sneak through a Covenant blockade?" Schitzo suggested, checking the pulse of an ODST that I didn't recognize.

"Right, it's gonna pick us up."

"Hello?!" someone yelled. It was coming from the cockpit. "Can anyone hear me?"

So much for that stereotype…

"You all right?" I asked the voice as I walked inside the cockpit. The pilot was dead, that much was evident. The Pelican had crashed nose first into the ground, the metal frames that supported the windows had broken and impaled him through the neck and chest. "How long have we been here?"

"Ship crashed about ten minutes ago, everyone's unconscious or dead," the copilot groaned. He was in pain, that much was obvious. The white piece of bone jutting form his leg was also a clear indicator. "Everyone left, we're dead!"

"Not just yet," I told him. "What's your name?"

"Sam Fightmaster, Lieutenant."

"Fightmaster your real last name?"

He chuckled and then groaned in pain once again. "Yup. Believe it or not."

"Wow, manliest name ever," I noted. "Now stand still, I'm going to get you out of here."

The problem here was that one of the metal bars from the window had embedded itself against his seat, preventing Fightmaster from moving his arm towards the seatbelt buckles. The other arm was similarly impeded from moving by a bent cockpit wall. I undid the seatbelt and the lieutenant slumped forward slightly with yet another groan of pain. I pressed my foot against his console and pulled the metal bar with all my strength. The metal groaned and bent slightly before snapping off. I looked at the spiky metal bar and tossed it aside before carefully moving the lieutenant from his chair.

"So, you've got a broken leg and what else?" I asked.

"Sprained wrist," he grunted, "and one hell of a headache."

I nodded. "Could be worse."

"Hey, grab his dogtags, will ya?" he asked me, pointing at the pilot.

"Yeah, sorry."

I set him down on the cargo hold and reached for the pilots dogtags, leaving one hanging form his neck in case the body was ever recovered. I put them inside one pocket and moved back.

Lieutenant Fightmaster was seating where I had woken up. He was taking slow, deep breaths and staring at the open sky. The angle of the Pelican only allowed us to see the bright blue sky of Acheron-VII, I had no idea what was going around us. Unfortunately, I had better things to do. All of the Helljumpers inside were alive, at least that's what their vitals indicated, but I've never known them to be wrong.

"Snark, hey, Snark. Wake up."

Snark slowly did as I bid him and shook his head. He reached for his sniper rifle and sighed when his hand grasped at empty air. The rifle was on the floor, intact. I grabbed it and passed it to him.

"Can you walk?"

"I think so," he muttered. "Need some adrenaline though."

"Tell me about it. I need your help, wake up everyone."

"Sure thing, Sarge," he said, sounding a little bit more alive. "Just give me a moment."

Next to Snark, also unconscious, was Corporal Royce. His visor was slightly cracked, that was bad news. I took the helmet off and felt slightly relieved when I saw that his face was intact. "Wake up buddy," I urged him, slapping his face.

"Wha-"

"Relax," I said. "You ok?"

"Gunny?"

"Mhm, how are you?"

"I-uh."

I rolled my eyes. "How many fingers?"

Royce looked at my hand and my face before calmly raising his own and flipping me off.

"That's the spirit," I said, slapping his shoulders. "Now get up before I break your nose."

Royce slowly got to his feet before sitting back down. He was obviously not ready. Everyone here was going to need some adrenaline boosts if they wanted to get up. Snark finally got on his feet and walked across to try and see if Beckel was in working order. I then jerked Novak awake, she was in better condition than most, and only stuttered a couple of times before her eyes regained their focus.

"Gunny?"

"Glad to see you awake," I told her. "Now stand up, can you walk? Good. I need you to go outside, check the Tortoise."

"The…"

"Yeah, APC with three guys in it, probably dead. I want you to check if they're alive."

"Ok," she nodded. "I got it."

Novak climbed out, leaning on the wall and grabbing an MA5 before jumping out of the hatch. There were two more Helljumpers inside the Pelican. One of them was already jerking awake all by himself. I left him alone and instead went up to the still unconscious one.

"Wake up…PFC Liam Adama."

"Wha-"

"That's your name, isn't it?"

"Uh…yeah."

"You ok?"

"Not really," he mumbled. "My shoulder hurts."

"I can see that," I replied. "It's dislocated. I can fix it."

"You sure-ah!"

"There, all good."

"Thanks." Adama grabbed his shoulder and stood up before falling back down. "Shit."

"Take it easy," I told him. "We're moving out soon. Take some adrenaline."

"Yeah, yeah, got it."

"Snark?"

"Bee's good."

"That's Bee? What the hell happened to his old armor?"

"What do you mean?"

"The yellow streaks and the large pauldron," I exclaimed.

"Oh, he repainted the armor, pauldron's still there."

"Why would he-never mind. Get him up."

"I'm awake goddamit!" Bee exclaimed.

"And highly Scottish," I said. "Get up you lazy piece of shit. You too Royce."

"I'm up, I'm up."

"Snark, I want you to grab the Pelican's emergency transponder and turn it on. If we have any chance of getting picked up that's it. The fleet needs to know we're alive and just exactly where we are."

Snark ran into the cockpit and rummaged through the wrecked walls before finally turning on the emergency transponder. He made it beep it a couple of times, sending radio waves into space, before coming out of the cockpit with a small radio in his arms.

"Ok, Bee and Royce, pull the lieutenant out of the ship, everybody else get out."

When we emerged the sky was bright blue and birds were flocking in our direction. It wasn't until I slid down the pile of dirt that the crashed Pelican had created that looked down. New Montevideo was being glassed by seven separate Covenant ships. Half the city was already a giant molten pile of glass, the other half was aflame.

"Shit," I grunted. "Novak!"

"Gunny! One of the tankmen's alive!"

"Status?" I asked.

"Unconscious, but his neck and back seem fine."

"Pull him out," I ordered. "Snark, go help her." I motioned for Bee and Royce to put down Lieutenant Fightmaster before walking up to him and kneeling next to him. I had only a little bit of emergency medical knowledge, but I knew that an exposed fracture could easily cause a deadly infection. So, the wound had to be disinfected and then I would do a little bit of amateur surgery.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Well, normally it would hurt like a bitch if you didn't have anesthetics on," I shrugged him off, pulling out the few medical supplies that I had. "I have some morphine though, but you're going to be screaming a lot."

"I screamed for an hour when I broke it, even with painkillers."

"Glad I didn't hear that," I chuckled.

I smiled at him in a way I thought was reassuring. "You've heard all about those crazy stories about marines that were stranded and had to perform crazy medical procedures just to survive?"

"Uh-huh," Fightmaster nodded shakily.

"Well," I started. "Now you're going to be able to tell them."

Fightmaster gulped and I gave him an almost lethal dose of morphine. Then came the dangerous part. I poured a huge amount of disinfectant fluid in his wound, prompting him to cry out in pain before grabbing his ankle and his knee. This was crazy, but I had heard of at least two documented cases where it worked.

"Bee, got one of those x-rays?"

"Let me get one."

"Hurry it up."

When Bee came back he was toting a portable x-ray machine. He activated it and placed it right above Fightmaster's leg.

"Tilt it," I ordered, "I need to see it."

Bee complied and I was able to see the outline of the clearly snapped tibia. The fibula was also slightly cracked. Man it was a terrible break.

"Ok, hold it there." I turned to look at Fightmaster. "Bite your flight suit collar."

The moment he bit down on the nomex flight suit I pulled the ankle slightly down and the white jagged bone disappeared inside the skin. The x-ray showed the bone moving slightly, but all I could think about was the screams of agony coming form the pilot. I used the screen to align the break so that it was as close to 'right' as I could make it look.

"Cast him," I yelled, not caring who followed through.

Beckel immediately produced a hardening bandage and started turning it around. He turned it several times over the wound until it started hardening and it broke off when he tried to spin it. He took a step back and waited. I, on the other hand, remained there and examined the x-ray. The bones were firmly in place, but soon enough his foot would lose circulation and he'd get gangrene.

I injected him with bone healing fluid, Bee handed me the syringe and then rummaged through the Pelican's emergency kit for other useful items. I secured Fightmaster's leg before digging the needle through the cast and into the bone. One the x-ray showed the needle was in contact with the break I injected the fluid.

It would speed up the healing process dramatically.

"Give him antibiotics," I ordered Bee. "Fightmaster, you ok?"

By then he had stopped screaming long enough to reply. "I'm ok."

"Yeah, obviously not."

The morphine then took full effect, and coupled with the shock, he fainted.

"Everybody start packing up!" I yelled. "Don't overdo it on the ammunition, pack enough MREs and water to lasts us for a week."

"And if we are here for longer than a week?" PFC Adama asked me.

"Then we might as well do ourselves in," Snark told him.

"Snark, how's the tankman?" I asked him.

Snark turned to me and cocked his sniper rifle. "He's great, actually, banged his head pretty hard, but his helmet protected him. He was firmly strapped to his chair."

"The others?"

"Broken necks, both of them."

I sighed. "How long till he's up and running?"

"Novak?" Snark yelled questioningly.

"Ten minutes, just needs some time."

It was all good and well, we needed to get a reply from the So Much For Subtlety and get Fightmaster up and running again.

"This is Subtlety-Actual, does anyone copy?"

I literally jumped towards the emergency beacon. "Subtlety, this is Gunnery Sergeant Castillo."

"Yeah, we know, better be worth it Castillo."

"I appreciate the risk you're taking, sir," I replied, being as respectful as I could. Under the current circumstances, it wasn't that hard.

"Damn right better," Subtlety-actual grumbled. "What's your status?"

"Seven Helljumpers are alive and…relatively well. One of the pilots is dead, other one got a fracture, he's better…ish. Oh, and one of the crew of the Tortoise we were escorting is also on his feet."

"Good, that means you've got access to supplies. Listen, there's heavy enemy presence on your quadrant, you're going to need to haul ass out of there before we can even think about going down there."

"Uh-huh, where do you want us to go, sir?"

I received a set of coordinates and my eyes bulged. "What?! Sir, I'm sorry, but we're hardly what you'd call fast on our feet at the moment, that position is three days away."

"Ha, I was thinking six," Subtlety-actual said. "There's no other way Gunny, we're here for eight days, if you don't make it in that time, we'll leave."

"Fine," I replied. "We'll be there, sir."

"Contact me on that same frequency, do not contact me before that point or we'll be dead. Good luck, sounds like you're going to need it."

"Thank you, Sir."

The captain of the prowler clicked off and I banged my head against the radio. "You all heard that, you know what we've got ahead of us."
There were somber nods all around me, they were all from Helljumpers.

"One of us isn't mobile, the rest of us are seeing double. I want to get a move on as fast as we can. We'll probably be seeing enemy patrols and if we're really unlucky we'll have to outrun a glassing."

"First time for everything," Schitzo shrugged.

"There's a first time for everything," I went on. "This is going to be one hell of a story to tell, and it's too bad that it's going to be a classified one, cause it would get all of us so much sex."

That got a round of chuckles from everybody save for Novak. But she was laughing on the inside, I just knew it.

"Tankman's up," Novak interrupted.

"Man, I was on a roll," I said regretfully. I turned to face the tankman, he didn't have body armor on, instead sporting the taker's helmet as well as a thin flak jacket that wouldn't stop anything past…well, anything. "What's your name?"

"Sergeant Parkes," he replied. "What happened?"

"Crash landed," Snark explained. "Stuck in the planet until a prowler picks us up, we've got five days of hard march ahead of us."

"That's the situation in a nutshell," Beckel agreed.

"Who's the ranking officer?" Parkes asked. Spoken like a true marine.

"That would be Lieutenant Fightmaster," I said, pointing at the unconscious pilot, but seeing as he is less than available to fulfill that role, you're talking to him."

"Ok, ok," he replied. "Should I-"

"Grab some gear," I told him. "Water and food. You…um Adama, are there any helmets or vests inside the Pelican?"

"I'll go look," PFC Adama replied.

Sergeant Parkes returned to his flipped APC and rummaged through the small supply locker as Adama climbed back up inside the Pelican. While they both did that I looked down towards New Montevideo. I could see small dots moving around, probably patrolling and searching for survivors. So far none of them were close by, but that would probably change. The Covenant were thorough.

"Bee, what have we got?"

"I've got a Spartan Laser, enough battery for ten shots at full power, SMG, and my rucksack's full of MREs."

"Snark?"

Snark moved his head from side to side and rolled his neck. "SRS with five additional magazines and a sidearm for weapons. MREs and water."

"Novak?"

"Um, I've got my DMR and my sidearm." She added, "Plus the supplies."

"Ok, why don't you go and look for one of those emergency blankets, the ones that keep the heat in and all that."

Novak raised an eyebrow but climbed up the Pelican to search the emergency supplies for one of those.

"Royce?"

"MA5B, standard load plus an M6 pistol."

Adama slid down from the Pelican with a CH252 helmet. It didn't have any attachments on, but it was more comfortable than the round tanker helmet that Parkes was wearing at the time. A few seconds later Novak climbed down with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Found half a dozen," she informed me.

"Why do you sound like you won the Miss Universe competition?" Bee asked her.

Novak immediately looked down. She looked funny, the armor was intimidating and everybody associated it with being a badass. Her body language most definitely went against that stereotype.

Parkes emerged from his vehicle with an M6J carbine slung across his chest and a smaller version of the same pistol attached to his hip. He also had an olive drab rucksack of UNSCMC design behind his back. He caught the helmet as Adama tossed it to him and replaced his own with it.

"Anybody hear that?" I asked, suddenly hearing a faint humming.

Snark and Bee immediately raised their weapons, they had known me long enough to know that I don't spook easily. Everybody else took a moment longer to react, but in a second all of us were aiming at different spots with our guns raised, holding down the sector.

"I don't hear anything," Adama muttered.

"Trust me on this one," Bee told him.

"Hear it now?" I asked, the buzzing was only getting stronger.

"I think I hear it," Novak said after a moment. "It sounds like a-"

"Phantom," I growled. "Bee, you know where the cockpit is?"

"Like the back of my co…hand."

"Everybody!" I yelled. "Take cover behind the Tortoise!"

Five helljumpers and a marine ran towards the overturned Tortoise and went prone while I ran up inside the Pelican and Bee ran of to a rock cluster nearby. It only took two minutes for the Phantom's humming to become clearly audible. Another minute after that I could see it. It was moving relatively fast, its automated turrets scanning for living targets. I was hoping that it would simply fly over and miss us, but it started hovering above.

"It's dropping grunts," Snark warned. "Five of 'em."

"When I say mark," I replied. "Bee, the moment you get an opening feel free to fire."

"It's at an off angle, I don't know if the laser will go completely through."

"Damn."

I fired a burst at the Phantom. The three rounds pinged off the armor and the craft immediately turned to bear its guns on me. Half a second later a red laser burned through the tip and the Phantom slowly fell into the ground.

"Mark!" I yelled. "Beckel, Royce, clear the ship. Someone will know that it went down. We've got to get out of here."

I climbed back down as gunfire echoed over the hills surrounding us. Fightmaster was beginning to moan something. I didn't think that mixing adrenaline with morphine was a good idea but I needed him on his feet. I injected him with half a dose of adrenaline and his eyelids shot open, eyes moving, searching for the source of the gunfire.

"Relax, relax," I told him. "We're good."

"Uh-huh. Ok, got it."

I ran up to the Tortoise and watched as Beckel and Royce jumped inside the ship through the side doors. There were a couple of shotgun blasts before everything went quiet. The only audible noise was that of fire crackling.

"Take photographs of everything inside," I ordered. "Just in case ONI could be interested. We're moving out. Now."

So began the journey through the Pampa Ridge. Ironically enough, it was named after one of the most fertile plains that existed back on Earth. The mountains weren't particularly tall when you compared them to some of the monsters that existed all throughout the colonies, they only had snow capped tops during the coldest days of winter. Despite that, they had very high prominence, and ridges and small valleys were aplenty. It was hard going, especially when two of us had to be helping Fightmaster move at all times. His bone was healing, but as soon as we were picked up the doctors would break it again and heal it properly.

"I hear something," I said, halfway up an inclined slope. "Everybody find cover."

"Easier said than done Sarge," Bee told me, hefting his heavy cannon and trying to climb up. "We don't have any overhead cover."

"Have to try," Royce grunted, kicking at the ground to get higher up.

In three minutes all of us were more or less hidden. There were enough shrubs and small trees around for us to get a minimal amount of cover. I found myself crouched behind a rock with a little tree covering me from the other side. PFC Liam Adam was occupying the same hiding spot.

"Those Banshees?"

"Yeah," I replied. "They're probably searching for whoever knocked that Phantom down."

"That means us," he smiled.

I nodded. "Snark, can you see anything?"

"They're doing a thorough search," he told me. "If they keep up this pattern we'll have to stay here for a while."

The sun was already setting, and we had been walking for hours now, and all of us were a little bit tired. "We can bunker down here, sleep for…" I checked my mission clock. "Three hours, then we set out again."

There were contented sighs of satisfaction as everyone shuffled themselves onto comfortable positions.

"Snark, you've got the first watch, wake me up after an hour."

"Sure," he groaned. "Sleep tight."

I didn't take off my helmet, instead just using my rucksack for support while Adama shuffled sideways to get comfortable in the cramped space. In the end we ended up with our knees pressed to our chests and our limbs in awkward positions. I fell asleep within a couple of seconds.

"Wake up," Snark said.

"I'm up," I replied immediately, stretching my legs and grabbing my gun. It was dark now. "Any developments?"

"Nope, Banshees are gone. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll try and catch some sleep."

Snark probably dozed of in less than ten seconds. I climbed out of my little hiding hole and on top of the huge boulder that I had been using for cover. It was in the middle of the slope we had stopped in and had a decent view of the surrounding area and valleys. In the distance I could see orange light. It could've been sunrise, but it was too early for that. The planet was burning.

There wasn't much need for me to keep eyes everywhere, so instead I crossed my legs and focused on listening for anything that might betray enemy presence. I still kept my rifle in a firm grip. I tried not to fall asleep, but I started dozing off. The third time that I was forced to snap my head backwards to stay awake I activated an alarm function on my helmet. An annoying beep was audible every couple of minutes, it certainly served to irritate me.

"So? You doing some Zen thing or something?"

"Didn't hear you," I replied. Adama had been quiet when waking up. "And no, I'll stay awake easier this way."

"Mind if I join you?" he asked me. "Can't sleep."

"Sure."

We were both quiet for fifteen minutes.

"Why can't you sleep?"

"I had friends here," he told me. "I tried looking for them when we came here, but I didn't have any luck."

"Good friends?"

"Yeah, went to high school with them, they were doing some tour of the colonies." He huffed in amusement. "I couldn't afford it, joined the corps instead. Well, their tour didn't last that long, both of them met girls here and decided to settle down."

"I'm sorry," I told him. "Sounds like you got lucky."

"I guess," Adama agreed. "But you know, I always did want that family life, work as a lawyer or in marketing, get a wife and three kids."

I smiled. "When I was little I only had one uncle. My mom was an only child and my dad had one brother. I wanted to have as many kids as possible so that my grandkids would get as many aunts and uncles as they could."

I could hear Adama laugh a little bit at that. "You know Gunny, you're a weird guy. Most of the guys have a steady gal back home."

"I have a girlfriend."

"Yeah, but you strike me as the kind of guy that saw a lot of action in his day."

"What does that mean?"

"Look, no offense Gunny, but you strike me as the guy that would stay a bachelor forever and love every minute of it."

I sighed. "There's nothing wrong with being single," I admitted, "but there's nothing wrong with going steady."

"All right," Adama agreed. "Your girl treating you right?"

"What are you? My mother?"

"Sorry, didn't mean to prod." Adama cracked his neck. "You know, there's this girl back in Reach, beautiful in every way, you know?"

I nodded, I scared myself when I found myself thinking of Katie and not Hanna. Thankfully, Adama went on.

"Dark skin, like really dark you know. What I first noticed about her was her eyes, they were light brown, not the dark brown that most black people have. So, me being a hotshot right out of bootcamp decided to impress her."

"I take it it went well?"

"I crashed and burned Gunny," Adama admitted. "Told me to get lost. So I did. That is, until I saw her a few days later. This time I wasn't as drunk and she had given me a good dose of humility."

"What'd you do?"

"I apologized," he shrugged. "Hard to swallow my pride, but I did. She gave me a second chance and we started seeing each other whenever we can."

"She the one?"

He nodded. "I knew it the moment I saw her, but I was too drunk to realize it at the time. That's the reason I apologized."

"Best of luck, kid."

"Thanks, but I don't think I need any more of that. Married her two months after I met her. Even had a little jarhead."

I raised an eyebrow, Adama didn't seem nearly old enough to have a kid that old. "How old?"

"Seven. He'll be turning eight soon." Adama sighed, he was probably thinking about his family. "Little kid's been missing his father half his life, and all I've got to show for that is Private First Class. Anyways, Liam Junior's great. I think you'd like him, he does this weird thing when he talks, adorable as hell. We had him pretty young, right out of high school, but every moment I get to spend with him makes the pain worth it."

"Why are you telling me all this?" I asked him bluntly.

Adama shrugged and looked away. "Bee's the only guy from my squad here, and to be fair, he's kind of a dick."

"So I hear."

"I guess I just like talking about it."

I smiled. "I know how you feel."

At times I felt like telling Pavel everything about Katie, describing her to him in as much detail as I could and telling her every little thing that I loved about her. But then I remembered I wasn't stupid.

"Again, don't mean to pry, but you think your girl's the one?"

"I hope so."

"So, what's the story with you and the corpsman?" Adama stretched his legs and arched his back before sitting back down. "Unusual stuff, corpsmen usually have college degrees and therefore loved ones."

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I nodded regardless. "Met her on my last ship."

"The…umm, what was it?"

"Inconvenience," I told him.

"Right, that. Funny name. How'd you meet her?"

I smiled, remembering the first time I saw her. "Well, there was this big explosion, a branch cut through my back, lost a kidney and a lung in addition to other minor injuries."

"She patch you up?"

"Kept me stable. Got a terrible head wound for her trouble, met her in the hospital bed when I woke up. I have to admit, I was kind of a dick to her."

"You're kind of a dick to everyone," Adama said. "Sir."

"A likeable dick."

"I'm still forming an opinion." Adama chuckled a little bit and turned so that we were covering front and back. "Then what happened?"

"I started going out with a friend of hers, a hornet pilot."

"Huh, trying to make her jealous?"

"Honestly? No." My rifle's foregrip was starting to feel warm through my gloves, so I switched my hand's position. "Em was…she was great, and she was up for a no strings attached relationship."

PFC Liam Adama slid down the boulder and to the ground. "Must've been a tough transition, going out with one friend to the other."

"No, actually. I think that Em was thinking about breaking it off or something. Otherwise she was an extremely mature person who actually considered a physical relationship just that. Physical."

"Sounds like a nice girl," he chuckled.

"Yeah. She was." I paused, trying to listen and see if I could hear any noises, but the night was quiet. "Point is, smooth transition."

"Got any siblings?"

"What?" I jerked. "Why are you asking that? In fact, why the hell are you probing so much?"

Adama took a deep breath, clearly audible from my position. "The platoon says things about you, you know? You come from a ship that was completely blown up. If it wasn't for Rob, Snark, and Pavel everybody here would be spreading rumors that you let your squad die just so that you could survive."

I knew how that went. Everybody thought the new guy was some sort of death seeker asshole unless he was fresh out of bootcamp.

"But it's not that what annoys people. Guys in your squad say that you get pissed off real easy, that you're don't speak more than a few sentences to them."

Adama laughed. "Hell, they even say that sometimes you talk to yourself."

I froze at that one.

"But they still say that you're great at what you do," he quickly amended. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's not my job to have them like me," I said, feeling defensive for some (obvious) reason. "It's my job to keep them alive, and I'll do what I can to make that happen." I turned to look at him, making the difference in height more evident. "Watch your words Adama."

"It just that… The men here would die for you just because you outrank them. Unless you told them to keep going they would stay behind with you. Would you do the same?"

I didn't answer. I would die for three of the guys here. Adama wasn't one of them.

"I don't blame you, Gunny. I'm thinking about starting a family back home, you know. If I'm going to die for you, at least I want to get to know you."

"Siblings?" I asked after a while, a little bit jarred by the change in topic. "Not that I care to talk about."

Adama didn't reply until after a couple of minutes. "I have two baby brothers. Mom's implant must've expired or something, because next thing you know I'm a big brother."

"How old are they?"

"Three. Twins. They're the cutest thing, not as cute as my little guy of course."

I smiled. "They all are at that age."

"Yeah, but these two, and my own, are special. I can tell. They talk with big words and all." Adama was smiling to himself now. Well, that would be my guess.

"Smart too, they're not going to be joining the UNSC."

"What's so bad about it?" I asked. It was a rhetorical question.

"Very funny, Gunny," Adama said. "Still, none of this for them."

"So, you're telling me this because you think that if I like you more then I'm more likely to risk my life for you?"

"Huh, I hadn't seen it that way," Adama told me. "It's a good side effect, but I guess that I just need someone to listen."

"I'm no shrink."

"And I'm no nutjob."

"Ouch, burn," Schitzo laughed.

Adama sighed again. "Most people don't get that, you know? That I just want to talk."

"Most people don't want to just talk." This time I sighed. "But if you want to talk, I'll listen."

So I listened. We shared the next watch as well as the following one. I would sit there and listen to whatever he had to say. Adama didn't just spill every single detail about his life, he also talked about movies, his goals, funny stuff that had happened to him and more. I liked him, I just couldn't figure out how the hell a guy like him ended up joining the military. He reminded me of the main character on a high school romantic comedy. Granted, he was a bit too talkative. If the things he said had been funny I would've pegged him as the comic relief kind of guy, but right now he just seemed to me as someone who enjoyed people listening to him.

"That's enough," I interrupted. "Time's up, we've gotta go."

"Understood," Adama said, immediately adopting an air of professionalism.

Everybody was awake in five minutes and ready to go two minutes after that. This time Snark got to take point and climbed all the way up the slope while we slowly made our way. Three hours of rest and the bone healing fluid had done wonders for Lieutenant Fightmaster, he was limping strongly and still needed help, but less so than before.

"Looks clear," Snark came in. "You should see the lights from here."

"Something tells me that's not the sunrise," Royce grunted.

"We need to hurry up," Parkes voiced. "If they keep glassing the-"

"They don't glass the whole planet," I assured him. "Don't tell anyone I said this, but that's ONI propaganda. They will, however, scorch a continent and a half if given enough time and motivation."

"We need to hurry up," Parkes repeated.

"I agree with tankman here," Beckel said. "We could use that Pelican."

"Well, sorry that we got hit and my friend died."

"Didn't mean it like that," Beckel told Fightmaster.

"If anyone says anything stupid I'll have them take point for the next five days." I made sure everybody got that message by looking at each of them in turn.

"Now, if you want to talk, play a hiking game or something. Capitals of the world."

The night slowly changed into day and everybody stopped talking. We were all grumpy and tired, but nobody complained. This had to be done.

By this point I had taken off my helmet and attached it to the underside of my rucksack. The next break we took I removed the large, bulky chest piece as well as my two shoulder pauldrons. The right one still had the blades from a spike grenade embedded, so I handled it with care.

"You know Sarge, you're still carrying the same weight," Bee pointed out.

"Yeah, but the armor's exoskeleton is designed to distribute the weight on the rucksack more efficiently."

"Why do they call it an exoskeleton anyways?" Adama asked form a rock across the small basin we were resting in.

"Serves the same purpose," Royce told him. "Wouldn't want to call it individual weight-distributing strands, would you?"

"Enough resting," I stated. "Pack your energy bars and lets get going."

The sun was rising and the orange light over the horizon faded until it disappeared completely. We had flown a good deal in the Pelican before it came crashing down, at the speed we had been going it's a miracle that we didn't all die. By that time we had already reached the top of the nearest mountain and were moving through the more or less horizontal ridges. It was an up and down instead of simply going up.

We had two higher mountains flanking us on either side. It was an ominous feeling, being on top of a ridge with two near vertical cliffs flanking you on either side. Both of the cliffs were at least a hundred meters taller than our own ridge and less than that distance away.

"Damn, I feel like I'm in Mordor," Bee complained.

"You liked the Lord of the Rings books?" Novak asked him, speaking for the first time in hours.

"Books? I saw the movies."

"There were movies?" Novak asked. "When?"

"Two thousand and…two?"

Adama stopped abruptly and turned to face Bee. "Bro…"

"Let him be," Snark told him, passing him. "He's usually like that."

"And it's catchy," Royce warned. "So don't get to close to him."

Fightmaster and Parkes, who was helping him, just looked at each other and shrugged.

I had forgotten how much easier it was to communicate with people when they didn't have their helmet's on. Only Parkes still had his on, and even then it didn't cover his face at all, so we could see his facial expressions clearly.

The helmets dehumanized us. I realized for the first time that they were not meant for our enemies, but for ourselves. It was a lot easier to see a masked face die than that of your best friend. It was smart. It was horrible.

"Lunch break," I announced. "We'll set down in that cave, it's big enough to hide us from flybys."

"Cave?" Snark asked.

"Yeah, I think that it's more of a crevice," Bee agreed.

"You two, shut up," I ordered. "You're starting to get on my nerves."

Everybody sat down and huddled close together. While it wasn't the most comfortable thing that we could've done, none of us wanted to be spotted by an overhead spy drone that we couldn't see or hear. Every member of our small party produced a small bottle of water and a ration bar. I examined my own lunch, glaring at the poop-like bar I was holding in my hands. Like many times before I took a deep breath before taking a big bite. It looked like shit and it tasted very much like it, but there was nothing in the universe that could give you the energy that these bars did. I drank a small amount of water before taking another large bite. I almost winced, but it wouldn't do to give a bad example to everybody here.

"El-tee, you doing good?" I asked him.

"Yeah, I think that I can almost walk by myself now," he told me. "Hurts like a bitch when I put too much weight on it though."

"Think you'll be good by tomorrow?"

"At this rate? Damn right."

"Great," I smiled at him. So far he had given off no signs that he wanted to pull rank. After all, I knew what I was doing and he probably didn't have much groundside experience. Still, he was the ranking officer and I didn't want it to seem like I was stealing his position. "Whenever you say, Lieutenant."

"I hardly think that's my call," Fightmaster chuckled. "But have it your way, I am hereby giving command of this unit to Gunnery Sergeant…"

"Francisco," I helped him out.

"Francisco Castillo," he finished. "There."

"Thanks, sir. Up we go, time to move our asses."

Everybody got up and secured their rucksacks. Adama was the first one up and he looked almost happy. His smile wasn't exactly genuine, but for a Helljumper it was one big gesture.

"Anyone up for another game of Darkhorse Candidate?" he asked.

"Sure," Beckel said. His voice was ever so slightly touched by sarcasm. "Who goes first?"

Parkes spoke up. "Werewolves."

"Time travel," Bee said.

"How does that even-" Parkes started. "Whatever."

"Time travel, hmmm?" Royce asked himself. "Butterflies."

"Kings," I said.

"Dogfighting," Snark said.

"That's a lame one," Adama joked. "Let's see…sharks."

"How does that even relate on any level?" Bee asked.

"It kind of has to make some sense," Sergeant Parkes agreed.

Adama smiled and turned to face us as he walked backwards. "Well, it's simple."

He never got to finish his explanation. A purple beam of light went through his head and he collapsed without another word.

A second later a hissing sound was clearly audible throughout the ridge.

Everyone ducked to one place or another, behind a rock, into a hole, or just away. The scree made for several quickly-accessible cover spots, and within one second everyone had a nice rock between them and whatever had shot Adama. From my position I looked at Adama, steam was whistling from his head and blood pooled around the wound. He was dead. As dead as you could be.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Fightmaster asked.

"Three o'clock," Novak said. "About forty degrees high. I saw the beam, but I couldn't pin down the exact location."

"Suppressing fire," I ordered, "Snark, take that mother out."

"My pleasure," he growled in reply.

"Fire!" I ordered.

All of us opened up. Us Helljumpers even peeked out of cover to try and get a decent shot, but Fightmaster and Parkes fired blindly from behind cover. After a couple of seconds of gunfire two sniper shots rang loudly, shaking the entire boxed ridge and echoing several times. Everyone stopped firing after that, instead returning to cover and looking at Snark expectantly.

Another SRS shot rang. "Shit," Snark cursed. "Got away, I nicked its shoulder, but just barely."

"A jackal?" Beckel asked, holding his shotgun tightly in his arms.

"Elite."

"Well, the new fleet must've had some serious reinforcements," Royce observed.

"What was the elite's class?" Fightmaster asked, showing that he was still an officer and taking the initiative.

"Purple black," he said.

"Damn it," I voiced.

"What does that mean?" Parkes asked, obviously worried.

"Spec Ops, right?" Novak replied.

"Right," Bee confirmed. "Spec Ops."

"I vote we slide down the slope and move up hugging that cliff, out as much rocks in between jus and them."

"Agreed," Parkes said nervously.

I nodded. "All right. Snark and Novak, give me some cover."

Both of them popped from cover and aimed down the ridge and towards the cliff as I hopped through the rocks and reached Adama. There was a neat hole in his head, starting from just above the left eye and ending just in front of his right ear. The two grisly wounds on his face deformed what had been his last expression. I avoided the dead eyes as I placed the corpse over my shoulder in a fireman's carry and ran down the slope with the rest of my team following in my wake. All I could think of was the two little twins that would never really know their older brother.

Without my armor I could feel blood seeping down the back of my neck. Rocks got loose and rolled downhill, but nobody said anything or stopped. We all climbed down as fast as we could, jumping from rock to rock. Fightmaster had it especially hard, because there was only so much that he could do with an injured leg.

"Stop," I ordered once we were on the bottom of the small ravine.

To our right we had a large inclined slope of rocks upon rocks and to our left a vertical cliff face.

"We need to get out of here," Novak said.

"Yeah, get on the high ground," Beckel agreed. "Have a vantage point on everything surrounding us."

I nodded slowly. "Not right now. That wall over there can give us cover, it's nice and defensible."

"What are we waiting for?" Bee asked loudly.

I gently placed Adama's corpse on the ground. "Royce, strip him of ammo, food, and water. Get his Helljumper flag and toss me his helmet."

Royce nodded solemnly and took a knee next to Liam Adama. Everybody realized what this was about and stood straighter. Snark kept his eyes on the ridge to our side while the others kept their eyes on the prowl for enemy movement, but so far nobody moved. I joined Royce and grabbed Adama's rifle before ejecting the magazine and the spare cartridge.

"Beckel, Bee." I gestured to the rocks and they quickly started piling them on top of Adama's body, starting with his legs.

I observed the process with grim eyes. When they had almost covered him I placed his rifle at his head, with the butt facing up. When it had enough rocks around it and was finally able to stay upright without support I placed the helmet on top of the rifle.

"His flag," Royce told me, handing me the neatly folded piece of cloth.

"Thanks." I nodded him off and placed the flag in my rucksack before turning to face the assembled men. "I…I was talking to Adama last night during watch, I got to know some stuff about him, but I don't think I'm the right man for this. Does anyone want to say anything?"

Nobody moved for a few seconds until Bee stepped forward. "Umm, well…yeah. Liam was in my squad, he entered the same time as I did, chatty as hell and would never shut up about his son and two little brothers. Still, he was a good soldier and a good man."

Everyone nodded.

"Liam was," Beckel started. "An unusual Helljumper. Too nice by half if you ask me. He never once used his fatigues to look tough, barely complained about anything. I once heard someone say that some people are too good for this world. I never really agreed with that, but I know that Liam was too good for this life. He deserved something better."

Royce grunted. "Can't say I knew him well, but a hero's a hero."

When nobody moved to say anything else I spoke up. "I…haven't been religious for a long time, but I know that he was raised in a religious household. Anyone want to lead a prayer?"

Everyone looked unwilling to speak until Novak sighed and took a tentative step forward. "It's a short prayer," she said nervously. "Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord. And let perpetual light shine upon them. May his soul and the soul of all the departed, through your mercy, rest in peace. Amen."

"Amen," I echoed, crossing myself. Crossing myself after a prayer was a habit that I would probably never get rid of. I was afraid that I would have to sing it by myself, but every Helljumper joined halfway through the first word.

"Gafflwn Dihenydd O'r fuddugol yn wiriol sydd, Ni fydd neb yn ein drechu, Falch ydy ni I drochu, Traed o flaen I'r Annwn, mewn y gwybodaeth fe godwn ni."

I nodded. "Private First Class Liam Adama."

We saluted and held our hands on our brows for several seconds, our weapons held awkwardly in our left hands.

We cheat Death from its rightful victory. No one can defeat us, we are glad to plunge feet first into Annwn in the knowledge that we will rise.

We might not rise in a literal sense, but we rise as heroes, we rise as legends.

"Let's go," I said. "We have ground to cover."

My armor was beginning to get uncomfortable, but if there was any chance that a helmet could stop a sniper round from going through my brain that was a fair exchange.

There was scarcely any concealment around us, all the rocks and boulders could make for decent cover if we were fired upon, but only as long as we knew which direction we were getting shot at from. For the last day and a half we had managed to keep ourselves on the high ground. That discouraged any enemies to fire at us from below. On the downside, we were highly visible to anyone who cared to look around.

"Halfway there," I announced.

Everyone groaned, they didn't want to be reminded that we still had twice the distance to go. Ever since the sniping incident I had doubled our pace, the rough terrain made speed difficult, but we were managing a pace that any ODST drill sergeant would be proud of. Even Fightmaster was keeping up, his leg was only giving him minor trouble now.

"Can we take a break now?" Novak asked weakly. She was lagging behind, with Parkes trying to play nice and staying within a few meters of her.

I looked over my shoulder and cursed when I saw that we were spread over a length of fifty meters. Most of the group was running by themselves, with a couple of smaller groups. "Hurry up!" I yelled. "We can rest as soon as we get this valley behind us."

"That's what you said last time, Gunny," Beckel stated. "And if I remember correctly, the time before that as well."

"Sorry Sarge, but I agree," Snark voiced his opinion. "That was six hours ago."

"Ever ran a marathon?" I asked him sharply. "No?" I sighed. "Fifteen minutes. Boys piss to the right and Novak to the left. Same goes for shitting and throwing up."

As soon as I said that Fightmaster doubled over and threw up. It was mostly water with a few chunks of energy bar thrown in for good measure.

"Charming," Beckel voiced.

I rolled my eyes at the pilot and sat down on a rock. As much as it hurt me to admit it, I needed the rest just as much as everyone else. Well, perhaps not as much, but I had been running from the front of the group to the back to urge everybody.

I took a large bite of an energy bar and ran my hand through my left thigh pocket. Inside it I had stored a neatly folded flag and a pair of dogtags belonging to Liam Adama. I checked them every so often just to see if they were there. I was going to get those two items out of this planet no matter what.

After I finished what was left of those bats I took a small swig of water. I was halfway down my rations, and everybody else was past that point already. If we wanted to make it we needed to find a stream or river. According to the scarce information I had stored in my helmet there ought to be a few streams in the next couple of valleys.

"Time," I shouted. "Up, up! Let's get moving."

"Not right now you don't," Schitzo said.

The phrase made me take half a step backwards, away from the hallucination. That act saved my life. A bright pink needle flew an inch from my visor. My eyes followed the crystal as it flew by in what seemed to be slow motion. A moment later I threw myself backwards and rolled as more needle rifle shots bounced of the rocks.

"Take cover!" Bee cried.

I rolled and tossed and climbed over sharp rocks until I found a nice hole to bunker down in. Needle rifle rounds shattered all around me, probably filling me with micro shrapnel.

"Return fire! Return fire!" I ordered loudly, reaching for my rifle.

Gunfire barked loudly and plasma fire answered in return. The quick retaliation had given me enough time and had drawn attention from my position, allowing me to fire back. I tried spotting the attackers, but they were firing from concealed positions. Concealed from my sight at the very least. I put their numbers at twelve.

"Snark, see the leader?"

"Can't," he grunted. "But I've got a plasma repeater on my sight."

"Take it out," I said, giving him the go sign. "Everyone, start sliding back over the other side of the ridge, we're falling back."

When Snark fired the sound blocked out everything else for a second, and I could almost hear the squishy sound that the huge bullet made when piercing an elite's body.

"That's a kill," Snark said. "I'm out."

I fired at an elite that had left cover, draining its shield and hitting it in the forearm. As I was about to finish it off a plasma grenade landed right next to me. I rolled on my side and grabbed the rock that it had fallen on before tossing it down as hard as I could. I thanked god for making the device land on a small rock as opposed to a boulder. As soon as it detonated I jumped up and down the other side of the ridge. In the short time that I was up I saw that the explosion had taken out the elite that had thrown the grenade. Pure luck.

"Move, move," I ordered. "Beckel and Royce, you two keep your eyes on the top of the ridge, discourage anything form jumping over."

Beckel and Royce fired upon two elites, forcing them back the end of the ridge.

"We got this Gunny," Royce told me.

"As much as one can…yeah, whatever," Beckel agreed.

"Now move!"

We ran. We ran as fast as our legs allowed us to. Beckel and Royce staved off a couple of assault attempts in a modified reverse slope defense. They only netted one kill when an elite stumbled after being shot, but they kept the other ones at bay and allowed us to gain some distance. Three dead for them and none for us. Not bad for having been the ones ambushed.

"We're going down the valley," I said. "Hide in the forest, lose them if we can. Double time it!"

The valley in question was small, perhaps three hundred meters across and a couple of kilometers in length. Running down the middle there was a stream. The only time we paused was to refill our canteens with the spring water. The built in filters would take care of any bacteria that could make us sick. The last thing I needed right now was one of our number shitting his pants as he ran.

"I see something," Novak called from up front. "It's a…it's a shack!" She sounded shocked.

"Stay there," I ordered.

The shack was small, perhaps big enough for one room and a kitchen. What was surprising was that it looked to be built by hand. That would be unusual anywhere in the entire UEG space. It even had a nice little stone chimney, like something out of a children's book.

"Thermal's not showing anything," Snark said. "Granted, my scope's not that good, but-"

"Shut up," I interrupted. "Novak, with me."

I tried the door and it swung easily. Inside the shack I could see one bed, a fridge, and a crappy cooking machine that looked like it was decades old. Other than that there were a few clothes strewn about and random stuff on the floor.

"It's clear," I said.

Beckel walked in and looked around. "Damn, hermit. He must've missed the option to call for takeout."

I rolled my eyes and examined what little stuff was inside. Beckel headed towards the fridge and grabbed a can of coke. He looked at the bottom for an expiration date before opening it. Immediately it burst, sending foamy coke into his helmet and splashing him with the drink.

"Christ Axel," Novak chuckled lightly. So unlike her.

"It has been inside that fridge for weeks," I stated. "How do you even manage?"

"Hey! I'm as shocked as you are!" he complained.

Whatever he was going to say next was cut short when plasma rounds burst through the wooden walls, sending splinters everywhere. I threw Novak to the floor and went prone while the guys outside returned fire at the covvies. The elites chasing us were persistent, I'll give them that. While on the floor I produced the last of my C-12 and pressed it hard against the wooden floor before inserting the receiver on the putty. It would blow as soon as I triggered the detonator.

"Sarge, you've got a window!" Bee yelled. "Hurry up!"

Novak left the shack through a shattered window while Beckel and I fired at the muzzle flashes. There had been a wall in front of us a few seconds ago, now it was mostly splinters and broken wood.

"Go!" I told the CQC expert. I followed soon after.

"Goddamn, they're persistent," Sergeant Parkes complained. "If only I had my Tortoise with me we could be-"

"Don't dwell on hypotheticals," Fightmaster told him. "Never works."

Parkes nodded as he ran and said nothing further. I took that as my queue to detonate the C-12 explosive. The explosion reverberated throughout the valley, and I could picture at least three elites caught in the blast. I wasn't feeling very optimistic at that time, so I made a mental note telling myself that it had only been two. That made seven of them and eight of us. Better odds than we had started out with.

By the time the sun was setting we were miles from the shack and had seen no sign of the enemy split jaws since then. I still made Snark hang back and scope out the area as often as he could. It wasn't easy to do while on a running pace, but he managed to, even with the heavy sniper rifle. Novak was doing better now, I don't know if she had been scared or inspired or whatever, but she was moving faster now. Fightmaster was the one that worried me. His leg was hurting like hell, I could tell, but he wasn't complaining.

"We stop," I ordered. "Three hours rest. We set out after that."

I had picked a decent enough spot for sleeping. Somebody else would do the watches and I would be able to catch some much-needed sleep. As soon as I laid down I drifted into slumber.

I woke up what seemed to be a second later. To be precise, plasma weaponry woke me up what seemed to be a second later.

"The fuck?!" I exclaimed.

I know, I know. Very elaborate wording.

"They were cloaked Gunny!" Parkes apologized, already firing. "It's a miracle that I saw them. At night!"

"Is that a Banshee!" Royce seemed to be phrasing his comment as a question, because there was no shred of doubt that that was in fact, a Banshee.

"Bee!"

"On it!"

"Cover him!" I ordered.

Like clockwork, every single one of us started firing wildly in the direction of the elites. Trees and rocks covered them, but the volume of firepower was enough to stop their advance. The Banshee, on the other hand, was positioning itself to strafe us. One blast from its fuel rod would spell our end. It would be enough to break our line.

"Yippe kay-" Bee started.

"Fire!" Snark ordered him.

A single line of red illuminated the night sky. The bright laser was more than enough to make my eyes wince. It only existed for half a second, but the blast was enough to melt through the frontal armor of the enemy craft, through the body of the operator, and keep on going. That laser would leave the atmosphere and keep flying until it simply didn't have enough cohesion.

"Frag out!" Royce called. The explosion that followed was accompanied by a cry of pain from an elite.

"Fall back, fall back!" I ordered. If we had all the time in the world I might've ordered a stand to get rid of those elites once and for all. If we had all the time in the world we could simply hide and wait them out. If we had all the time in…you get my point.

"Helljumper, Helljumper, where have you been?" I asked as loud as I could.

"Feet first into hell and back again!" everyone replied in chorus, even the non-ODSTs.

"When I die please bury me deep!

With an MA5 down by my feet!

Don't cry for me, don't shed no tear!

Just pack my box with PT gear!

Cuz one early morning, 'bout zero-five!

The ground will rumble, there'll be lightning in the sky!

Don't you worry, don't come undone!

It's just my ghost on a PT run!"

"And what a run it is!" I said loudly.

The rocks had given way to smoother trails. They were game trails, but they were large enough for us to walk through without much trouble. Occasionally trees would get in the way, but for the most part we ran without much trouble. Ever since the shack we had been pushing it hard. The Banshee attack only made us push harder. Now we found ourselves actually trying to outrun the glassing of the planet. We could see small capital ships scorching the ground behind us through Snark's scope.

The group of elites hadn't given up on chasing us. Occasionally they would try firing at us, but we had two or three men in the back with ranged weapons to push them back. Snark and I usually found ourselves at the back of the group, with Novak or Royce taking turns with the other scoped rifle.

"Movement." Snark dropped to the ground and everyone followed. "It's the sniper." He fired one round. "Damn."

"Do you have him?" I asked.

"Yes, but it's behind cover. As soon as it tries to step out it's dead."

I considered the situation and wondered whether we should stay. We were hard-pressed for time as it was, and if we rested here our bodies might give up. On the other hand, this was the son of a whore that had killed Liam.

"We'll wait," I said. "And make sure you hit it good."

With my own battle rifle I could see the place where the elite was hiding. It was a jagged boulder about fifteen feet high and six wide. It was right in the middle of a stretch of flat land. Normally, the elite would've been able to run back without exposing itself, but the only way back was up a hill. It would have to expose itself either way.

Snark pulled down his rifle's bipod and took off his helmet. Some said that firing manually was harder, but in my opinion it was the same thing. He started taking deep breaths until his chest was barely moving. I was prone next to him, eyeing the boulder through my scope. At this extreme range I could barely make out the thing. My scope wasn't nearly as powerful as the Oracle that Snark's rifle had. He probably felt like he was a few feet away from the rock.

"Spread out and watch for any flanking attempts," I ordered. "If anyone sees movement you shoot it."

The sun was slowly going up. It should've been cold at this altitude, but the sun burned the back of my neck. I thought about putting my helmet back on, but decided against it. It was resting on a rock right next to me, making for a highly visible target. Snark was still, not having moved or said anything since he settled down. Everyone else was watching our perimeter, quiet.

The sun moved across the sky and I thought I smelled ozone in the air. The atmosphere was burning, we needed to move. Still, I did nothing. Snark wiped sweat from his brow before returning to his position. I couldn't spot any movement whatsoever through my scope, and I even searched intently for glimmers that would give away the presence of a camouflaged elite.

I shook slightly at the sound of gunshots, but since no one reported any trouble I didn't move. I hoped that they had gotten an elite before it could fire back. Half an hour later there was another burst of gunfire followed by a few plasma rounds. The gunfire eventually overwhelmed the plasma and everything went quiet once again, with only faint echoes resounding against the mountains.

Then the elite did something amazing.

It rolled out of the boulder and turned its back to us. Its head was hidden behind its body, so Snark had no choice but to fire at the torso. The shields absorbed the blow but disappeared as a result. Following that, the elite sniper rolled sideways again and turned with its rifle up. It let out one shot that hit a rock three feet from Snark's position before he nailed it with a headshot in return.

"That's a kill," I confirmed. "What was the range?"

"Three-oh-seventy-seven," Snark grimly replied.

"Adama would be proud," I told him. "Nice shot. Everyone! We're moving out!"

"Adama would be proud?" Schitzo scoffed. "Adama's dead."

"I went to the market

Where all the innies shop

I pulled out my knife

And started to chop

To the left right left right left right kill!

Left right left right you know I will!

I went to the church

Where all the innies pray

I pulled out my machine gun

And started to spray

To the left right left right left right kill!

Left right left right you know I will!"

"Three more miles boys!" I yelled loudly. "They can't hit us at this range so don't you dare stop now!"

Occasionally a plasma bolt would streak by, but the elites firing at us were at least two kilometers behind us and didn't have any precision weapons left. The mountain range was done, all those jagged peaks, sharp cliffs, and narrow valleys were behind us. Now all we had in front of us was miles upon miles of plains. It was good that we were going to be picked up here, because the elites would catch up with us in no time.

"Novak, get behind me," I ordered.

"Sure," she huffed. She was getting a little bit of sarcasm into her voice, that was good. "Why?"

"Open my rucksack and get the beacon out."
I tried not to move too much as she rummaged through the contents of my backpack. Perhaps I should've asked someone taller to do that, because she was probably hopping up and down to get a good look inside. Eventually she got it out and handed it to me.

"One mile off," Bee called. "Let's go, let's go!"

"Who died and made you boss?" Royce growled.

"This is Gunnery Sergeant Francisco Castillo," I spoke into my radio, activating the beacon at the same time. "I repeat, this is Gunnery Sergeant Francisco Castillo, we are approaching the pickup point, it should be eight minutes before we get there. Subtlety, do you copy? Subtlety come in."

"I copy," a gruff voice replied. "This is Subtlety, we're on our way."

"Someone must've heard that," Fightmaster noted. "There are corvettes within visual range."

"We'll be safe," I assured him. "See that small rise over there? We'll hole up and wait."

"How much longer?" Parkes asked. "I'm dying for a hot shower."

"They should be here any minute now," I replied.

"They'd better be," Novak said. "Look there."

I turned to the direction she was pointing at. It was at least three kilometers away. The two phantoms were moving fast and low, streaming through the plains. Before I could give the order I heard the familiar charging sound of a Spartan Laser. The red line cut through the air before colliding with one of the two dropships. It hit the right side of the craft and it started putting out smoke before veering off and touching down gently. It wasn't destroyed, but it was out of the game. The second laser bounced off the second Phantom.

Yes, it bounced.

"Did the laser just bounce?" Bee asked.

"Deflected is more like it," Parkes replied.

"Well, if the laws of physics are on their side, then I don't know why we still fight," Beckel complained.

"It's still coming," I stated calmly.

Another laser through the center brought the dropship crashing down. I could see little shapes climbing out of the burning wreckage at this distance. The elites that had been chasing us since the range assimilated them into their ranks and doubled their speed.

"Where is it?" Royce asked irritably.

"They'll be here," I replied.

"Sarge?" Snark pressed.

"They'll be here."

One of the corvettes that had been flying back in the distance was speeding up towards us. It was getting larger and larger by the second.

"Ah, you feel that?" Schitzo asked.

I almost shat my pants when the shape of a UNSC ship appeared overhead. The sky, which had been gray just moments ago was suddenly covered by a large hovering craft. I could see the distortion coming from its engines, I just couldn't hear them. Immediately after the prowler showed itself the corvette fired a plasma torpedo. The Subtlety let out a bunch of small counter missiles that detonated prior to making contact with the torpedo. As the plasma torpedo flew through the air where the counter missiles had exploded it burst, scorching the grass beneath it.

"What are those?" Parkes asked.

"Archer-D missiles," Snark replied.

I scoffed. "What are you? Grass?"

"My ass isn't nearly big enough."

"I hate it when they do that," Royce muttered.

"Peace brother," Beckel consoled him. "Peace."

The UNSC So Much for Subtlety did its name honor, blasting out several small missiles at the enemy corvette and firing at it with pulse lasers. The covvie ship started showing smoke and turned to bring its guns to bear. By that time we were already inside the prowler and camouflaged again. The Covenant would find us if we stayed, but the captain jumped as soon as it was safe.

"Safe," I muttered to myself.

Schitzo laughed. "Yeah right."

Thanks to Alshep and SilasWhitfield for proof-reading this chapter.

Don't you think that the chapter title is incredibly original? Come on guys, did you really believe that I would leave you hanging with a measly 4000 word chapter? Of course not! I might be a lot of things, but a dick to my readers is not one of the (a dick to everybody else is another matter altogether though...).

Well, somewhere a doctor is shaking his head in disappointment, but I think that the healing scene was rather dramatic, even if it would be painful enough to kill Fightmaster through sheer shock. By the way, don't you just love that name? He's going to be taking over Marina's role in the future. I hadn't planned it like that, but the name is just too awesome to use in one chapter.

What do you think about the funeral scene? I borrowed front his fic's namesake heavily. Look up Halo 3 ODST: The Life on youtube, it should be quite obvious. Still, I care about your opinion a lot and want to know if you liked it. I also enjoyed writing the cadences, they are actual cadences from the Halo universe. Well, one of them is, the other one is a slightly edited Vietnam War-era cadence. Oh, yeah, whoever guesses how the words in the dark horse candidate games relate then you get bonus points, and by bonus points I mean that you get to ask me to kill an extra in whatever reason you seem fit (within realistic limits, of course). Or you get to name the code name for Second Squad.

On another note: Yay! 500+ reviews! And it only took 100+ chapters! I need to improve my chapter to review rating! Love you guys for all your support!

Next milestone: 666 reviews.

Stay strong.

-casquis