Chapter CXLVII: Going Medieval

May 6, 2547 (UNSC Calendar)/

Calderwood Château, Skopje, Philippus System

"They say that neurotics build castles and that psychotics live in them. Says a bunch of us Helljumpers, don't you think?"- Master Sergeant Yassir Dajani

Château might've been synonymous with a manor, long and wide windows with fancy tiled roofs and huge ballrooms. This one was what the French would've called a château fort. You see, château means castle in French. Not a residential kind of castle, but an actual honest-to-god castle.

This pile of rock in particular was an exact replica of the Krak des Chevaliers, a castle built during the Middle Ages in Syria by crusaders. Let me give you a little description. It was a concentric castle, meaning that it had an outer wall and an inner wall. Inside the inner wall there was a keep that functioned as the primary residence of the nutjob that had spent a veritable fortune building this fucking place. God bless that man, because a castle is probably the best building for you to be defending no matter what century it is.

The Hornet that had saved Hayes and me dropped us off before flying away. Lieutenant Hayes barely glanced at me before moving towards the Pelicans with her platoon. I walked behind her, trying to think and staring at the ground, my rifle slung over my back and my liberated point defense gauntlet still attached to my left arm.

The platoon had been dropped off by the Pelicans, which were now crowded next to one another in the courtyard inside the inner walls. When we flew over the outer walls I could see that the space in between the two sets of walls was narrow, a design no doubt meant to complicate matters for any enemy that managed to break through the first wall. There were a few dozen regular Marines here and there, marching the walls and keeping their eyes open. The ODSTs that had made it through were in the inner courtyard, licking their wounds and looking glum.

"Who's in command?!" Hayes snapped at her men.

Yassir turned and looked at her. "One Colonel Felicia Sanderson. She's in the keep."

"Hardass bitch if you ask me," Bee muttered.

"I didn't ask you Lance Corporal," Hayes told him. "So keep your mouth shut." She turned towards Yassir. "Yas, with me, everyone else get some down time and await orders."

I let myself fall down to the floor and took off my helmet. All three squads quickly imitated me, dropping down and spreading their arms and legs on the floor, making the passage of air to their lungs easier.

"Al," I said after a while. "Give the platoon a quick overview on the castle. Defenses, personnel, points of interest, the works."

"Of course Frank," the AI replied before clearing its throat. "This castle, as some of you know already , was built by Ferdinand Calderwood as an almost exact replica of Krak des Chevaliers in Syria, on Earth. It is of the concentric design, meaning that it has more than just one wall. There are arrow slits on the outer and inner walls as well as round towers spread throughout the walls, with the corner ones being the largest. The only ground entrance is a large door in the southern wall, unlike the original, there is no bridge connecting it to the outside. There are, however, several landing pads on the largest towers, most of them are collapsible and can hide three Falcon-sized aircraft inside the towers. I think it goes without saying that that wasn't a feature of the original castle."
"Let's get down to the important part, shall we?" Pavel asked the AI. "Besides, just how the fuck would we be supposed to know why this castle was built?"

"Of course Staff Sergeant. There are currently seventy five ODSTs inside the castle, not accounting for Colonel Sanderson, who is a senior officer and most likely will not be seeing any combat." That got a couple of humorous comments from the men. "More ODSTs are slated to arrive in the space of an hour. In addition to the Helljumpers there are two companies of Marines, amounting to a grand total of two hundred and sixty one able-bodied men."

"Equipment?" Staff Sergeant Greg Williams asked.

"A dozen M41 LA-AGs have been placed along the perimeters, they are complemented by smaller HMGs and M247Hs. One M71 Scythe AA gun is being installed on the top of the keep. It should keep away dropships and fighter craft. Colonel Sanderson requisitioned a missile battery and it should be brought in within an hour or so. The battery can keep anything up to a Covenant corvette away from lethal range, but that's about it."

"Missile pods?" Royce asked.

"Just three," Al replied. "Many were lost in when the convoy bringing them here was attacked." The AI paused and rolled its head. "There are enough Pelicans to evacuate everyone of need be and two Scorpion tanks are stored in between the two walls in case they need to be used. Several Warthogs and Mongooses are present in the motor pool and we have a mortar unit spread throughout the walls."

"Any special units?" I asked. "Other than us of course."

"One of the Marine companies has a Scout Sniper Unit deployed outside of the castle. They are slated to return before the sun sets."

I sighed. "Anybody have any questions?" No one was actually curious enough to warrant talking. "Thanks Al."

"My pleasure," it replied before breaking the link.

I could see the sky becoming darker and darker as time passed. I didn't really do anything other than rest and try to block anything that I knew wasn't real. Schitzo had an annoying ability to make friends. I was about to allow myself to fall asleep when I heard the roar of a Warthog and felt it drive right by my side. I looked up to see two ODSTs, one of them slightly wounded, jump off the jeep. The chassis shook when the driver jumped off.

It was the Spartan.

I was on my feet within a second for reasons seemingly unknown, the freaks always put me on edge, ever since I had been told that I was all but one of them it only made it worse. Not that I had to spend my days surrounded by them, but the rumors and stories had only gotten wilder after ONI had declassified the program officially. The super soldier was clad in an armor that I was familiar with. It walked away and entered the keep, leaving two open mouthed Marines staring after him.

"What the hell was that?" one of the newly arrived ODSTs asked.

"I…I don't know Gage," the other one replied.

The first Helljumper turned to face me. I didn't have my helmet on and he didn't have any visible insignia or rank markings, so I didn't know whether he was lower or higher-ranking than I was. Judging by his body language he was a veteran, but that was everything I could make out.

"Gunny," he asked me, slightly limping as he walked towards me. "Do you know what that was?"

I scoffed. "A Spartan," I informed him matter-of-factly. "A super soldier. ONI just recently made the program public."

"A super soldier…" he asked. "You mean he's…better?" Damn, he was a Helljumper, an excellent question.

I thought for all of three seconds before slowly and reluctantly nodding. "Yes. He's…better."

The man, Gage, took a stunned step backwards before muttering thanks and walking away, no doubt deep in thought. I knew what it felt like to be the best of the very best only to have that yanked form under you by a bunch of freak child-soldiers.

But officially they weren't that. Officially they were just freak soldiers.

"Goddamn," I grunted before sitting back down.

"Anybody know how Beckel's doing?" Miranda asked after a while.

"Nah," Wiremu replied. "Hayes will probably come back with the information in a while."

The conversation then focused on the extent on his wounds and the surprise that everyone had at him having survived being stabbed by the wide and thick bayonets. Everybody then started comparing their own different puncture wounds, showing them off and wondering how serious they were when compared to Beckel's. It was what one would consider typical Helljumper behavior, but it was only our way of coping.

I hadn't said anything despite having my fair share of shrapnel and sword wounds. I don't know if teeth and claws counted, but I also had my collection of those. When Wiremu asked me about it I just shrugged. "He'll be all right, if they managed to stabilize him and he got here in time I don't see why he'd die."
"I was asking you about your wounds, Gunny," he reminded me.

"Right. You've seen them before, no need for me to explain."

"Come on, we're all curious," Almers pleaded. Miranda, Wiremu, and even Serge nodded. "See?"

I looked at each of them in turn and shook my head. "You can ask Pavel all about it."

Pavel stood up and took a couple of steps back before the squad rushed him. For the last years I had been trying to not get very emotionally attached to Second Squad. I knew that it was an impossible task, but it was better than becoming best friends with everybody only to see them die. I sighed; I had never been so cynical in my entire life. Well, doesn't matter, the problem with that is that I somehow managed to gather a certain air of mystery around me, for the most part nobody cared, but on occasion they seemed to become gossipy teenagers.

Fine, fine, of course it was flattering in a way, but with enough time it got annoying.

"Everybody up!"

Hayes' voice was unbelievably sexy, much like her deceased cousin's. Unlike the aforementioned dead ODST, she could make it very, very loud when she wanted to. It carried authority, but they taught that in officer school.

"Ladies and gentlemen I've got bad news," she started as soon as everybody was paying attention. That was met with a unanimous grunt, on another occasion she would've given us shit for that, but she was a good leader. "Colonel Sanderson, in all her wisdom, has decided that as Helljumpers we need to set the example, so unless you're injured you're going to be on guard duty."

"Someone shoot me in the foot!" someone pleaded.

Hayes frowned. "Say something like that again and I'll personally shoot you," she warned. "First Squad, you're going to be with me on the northeastern tower and the surrounding area. Second Squad, you're going to be walking the east wall, occupy the two towers."

"Sir, are we talking inner or outer?" I asked.

"Outer. Third Squad, follow Master Sergeant Dajani, you'll occupy the southeastern tower and surrounding nearby wall." She waited and stared at us. "Well, what are you waiting for?!"

"Third Squad!"

"Second Squad!" I boomed. "Get of your asses, that means you too Serge!" I waited for everybody to get off their lazy asses and to put their helmets back on.

"Form up! Follow me!"

I was lucky that Al had downloaded a map of the compound into my helmet automatically, because otherwise I would've had to march around until I got one manually downloaded. I led them at a moderate trot through the outer wall and then to the eastern wall. There were two small towers dividing it into three sections. With seven of us I decided that one sharpshooter was enough for each of them and a pair would walk each length back and forth. Then I realized that I would've probably failed basic math because that amounted to eight.

Then I realized that the tower that I thought Hayes meant something else by northeastern tower, there was a larger, taller tower a little bit to the side of the northeastern corner. So now we had three towers to guard.

So we're seven, still have three sections plus three towers, that's six total. One sharpshooter each and one rests. Aha! I am a genius!

"Miranda, and Serge, you each take one of those two towers. Wiremu, Pavel, and Caboose, you divide the lengths of wall between yourselves. I'll take this tower."

"Me?" Almers asked.

"You're lucky," I told him. "You get a fifteen minute break. We'll rotate until the sun sets, then breaks are one hour long."

It was simple enough that nobody had to ask for me to repeat myself. Nobody was willing to complain about having to walk the wall.

So we got to it, I got myself a small stool and sat on it while I propped my battle rifle up on one of the battlements. The plains surrounding the castle extended for miles. On one side I could see smoke vary far off in the distance, everything else was completely empty of anything of interest. Sure, there were some interesting rocks here and a large boulder there, plus, the dirt road was oh so very hypnotizing. I am surprised that I didn't drop unconscious from boredom in the first couple of minutes.

It wasn't until the sun was below the horizon, the sky tinted in pretty, reds, purples, and pinks that seemed almost unnatural, that we got a sound of alarm. A group of three Spirit dropships covered by twice that number of Banshees flew through the air. At first I didn't see them, but they became large targets soon enough. Before I could even make out the turrets on the bottom through my scope the Scythe AA turret fired three half-second bursts. All three of the Spirit gunships suddenly exploded and fell out of the sky. The 20x102mm HEIAP rounds tore through the armor like paper. The first half of the shell contained high explosive that damaged the armor. The rear half had a depleted uranium or tungsten penetrator that went on with full force. Following rounds just made that hole bigger and finally ended up blowing up something or killing something important.

I could only imagine what would happen if a soft target was hit by even one of those monsters.

"Snark," I said, opening a line. "Anything interesting?"

"Extreme range, Sarge," he replied after a short pause, "even for my Oracle."

"Didn't you get a new one?" I asked. "Like a super powerful one or some shit?"

"Just testing to see if you'd remember," he deadpanned. "I can see three crashed Spirit dropships plus six Banshees running away from us like kingdom come."

"So nothing interesting?"

"Nope."

"You could've just said that," I deadpanned in return. "Would've saved some oxygen."

"You know Francisco," Schitzo said, "it doesn't really matter, this planet is going to be as good as dead by the time we leave. Use up all the oxygen you want."

I turned and saw his shape outlined in grays and greens. The night vision on my helmet made him look even creepier than usual. Then something put me off. He looked familiar. In a different way, it was like his face had changed slightly.

"Annoying," I said to myself.

"What was that Sarge?" Snark asked.

"Nothing, I was talking to myself."

I could picture Snark mentally shrugging.

The rest of the night went slowly, a couple other ODST units arrived by Pelican or by 'Hog, with those coming in on the Warthogs having scratches and scorch marks on their armor. The fight in the city was not going well. No wonder we had all been pulled back to this little piece of shit right here. I'm sorry, not piece of shit, it's just a figure of speech. I got myself an hour of sleep just before sunrise, by the time I was awake we were relieved of duty, with another unit taking our position. I was glad for the break, I hadn't slept in almost two days.

We returned to the inner walls, this time going all the way inside the keep and into one of the rooms. It was built like an ancient chapel of some sort, or maybe just a regular room with a vault for a ceiling, but the modern furnishings were a jarring contrast to the old walls. There were several screens and sofas that had all been pressed to the walls. In the middle of the room someone had placed UNSC-issue sleeping mats.

It was amusing to see the lower ranking members of my squad sigh with disappointment at having to sleep on the mats. Pavel, Caboose, and I all got a couch for ourselves. The man that had built this was a wealthy person; he had spared no expense when it came to comfort. The soft cushions were just perfect, designed to provide support and whatnot while at the same time being just the perfect amount of plushy.

"Ah," I sighed, smiling as I sat down.

"I don't think I've been this comfortable in ages," Pavel said, a huge smile on his face.

Caboose nodded before allowing himself a small self-satisfied smirk. "Agreed."

"What would the owner think of smelly and sweaty Helljumpers on his fancy couches?" Pavel asked, the tone in his voice made it evident that he didn't approve of the luxurious castle.

"The owner," a voice said. "Actually offered this place to the UNSC."

We all looked to the room's entrance to see a smallish man in slacks and a button shirt looking at us with his arms crossed.

"And you'd be?" Wiremu asked lazily.

"The owner," he replied, sparing Pavel a glare.

Shit. "Sir," I said, immediately standing up. "We're very thankful." Why am I even being nice? "Without this place a lot of ODSTs and Marines would be in trouble."

The man shrugged and shook my hand. "Just came to see if everyone was doing ok."

"I think we are, sir. Again, thank you very much."

He nodded and looked at Pavel. "Are you sure? You want any more cushions? Pillows? Maybe a blanket?"

Pavel started getting up and opened his mouth to say something but stopped when I waved him down. "No, I think he's just fine," I assured him with a smile.

When the man was out of the room and out of earshot I turned to Pavel and gave him a 'what the hell?' look.

"What?" Pavel asked me, raising his arms. "He was giving me shit!"

"I would've allowed you to beat his face in if he was military," I assured him, but that man made his home a target for the Covenant and has not left yet. He is also a civilian with more money to throw around than any of us could earn in a lifetime. If you made him angry enough he could destroy your life and career."

Pavel rolled his eyes and shook his head. He then muttered something about me being the one getting into fights and he stopping me.

I smiled. "Get some sleep everyone, that's an order."

I sat down on my couch and placed my rifle within easy reach of my hand before taking off my chest piece, abdominal armor, and my heavy armored boots. I wiggled my toes a little bit, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with taking off my boots. The comparatively thin vest that I was wearing now would stop anything short of a DMR round, but would probably not even absorb a plasma pistol shot or deflect a needler crystal.

Why am I even worrying about that? The walls are three feet thick, they'll stop anything.

I lay down for a while before deciding that taking off my vest would be a good idea. I winced a little bit when it pulled at the skin, my chest was still raw, but the biofoam had already worked wonders. My undersuit was useless for vacuum, but it could sure as hell stop a fire from burning my arm off or shrapnel from penetrating with too much speed.

I glanced at the gauntlet in my wrist, raising my hand to see just how heavy it was before shrugging and laving it on. If push came to shove it would compensate for my lack of armor.

"You're a true cynic," Schitzo said, shaking his head. "Expecting the Covenant to break through all defenses and come into this room without waking you up before."

I shrugged, my eyelids heavy. Within a second I was asleep, resting in my own little world of nightmare.

A loud drum roll woke me up. I groaned at the annoying noise, but when I opened my eyes I realized that it was coming from my helmet. I sighed and put the thing on with some effort, the HUD activating the moment it confirmed me as a member of the UNSC military.

"Hope you had an enjoyable nap Frank," Al told me, his avatar occupying my full HUD.

"Thanks Al," I told him, stretching my neck and hearing it crack. "It was…restful." I shook my head to myself; it had been filled with nightmares and visions. Nothing out of the ordinary, but I just couldn't fall asleep anymore without having dreams of some kind. "What's the matter."

"Your squad is supposed to report to the same position you were on before in ten minutes, fifty three seconds."

"Thanks Al, any news?"

"Nothing important. No enemy activity."

"Thanks. I'll be seeing you."

"My pleasure Frank," he nodded before flickering and disappearing.

"Second Squad!" I shouted as loud as I could, shaking everyone awake. Miranda, Almers, and even Wiremu reached for their weapons. My old squadmates already knew that if we were under attack I would wake them up with the sound of gunshots.

Pavel and Caboose were slow to get up, knowing that they weren't in danger, but Serge, the Foreign Legion veteran, got up immediately and started putting his armor back on. Years of fighting on Earth had given him a sixth sense that made him know when he was in danger. The other, younger members of Second Squad didn't quite have it, but they were getting there.

"Damn Gunny," Almers grunted. "Scared the shit out of me."

Miranda nodded in agreement, but tried to look meek when I glared at her.

"I don't give a shit what you think," I reminded him in a tactful tone. "Armor on everybody. We're going back to the wall."

I caught Wiremu looking at my chest and glanced down, pressing my chin against my neck in an attempt to see my burn. "How's it looking?" I asked him.

"Nasty," he admitted. "But a lot better."

"I'll take that," I sighed.

The burly rugby player laughed without much humor and stood up, towering above all of us. Not for the first time I stared at the tribal tattoos that covered his entire face and body. They were supposed to tell the life story of whomever they were on, but his life wasn't over, at least not yet. I had asked him before what they meant, but he wouldn't talk about it, saying that he would tell me when he knew their true meaning himself. Every time he told me that I shook my head and looked at him funny, but didn't press the issue.

Little by little the tattoos disappeared when he put on his undersuit, with the lines on his face being the last ones to go as he put on the helmet. At 6'6 plus helmet and boots he was imposing, his shoulders were wide enough to make Pavel's look puny. I could see why he would be a good rugby player.

I waited for Miranda to finish putting her boots on before I nodded the team out of the room.

"Why are you always the last one when it comes to putting our armor on?" Almers asked her teasingly.

"I'm not alwa-"

"Leave her alone," Wiremu interrupted. "She's a woman, they're supposed to take their sweet ass time."

Serge shook his head and shot a look at Almers that wiped the grin of his face and another to Wiremu that made him spread out his hands and shrug a little bit. Damn, the man could be scary when he wanted to. Caboose could give himself a creep/scary aura, but not an honest-to-god scary one like Serge.

"Enjoy your nap ladies?" one of the Helljumpers coming from watch asked us.

I bumped into his shoulder and Pavel tripped him before Caboose shoved him to the ground.

"Oh, we slept just fine," I assured him.

His squad laughed at him, one of them even stepped over his back before helping him up. The ODST glared at us but said nothing, without his squad to back him up in a fight he just swallowed his pride. It wasn't really something worth causing a fuss over; we were all comrades and behaved like it. Maybe out retribution had been a little bit disproportionate, but we were all friends.

Damn Frank, you sound like a fifty-year-old woman.

"Same rule as before," I said once we were on the outer wall. "Almers, you get first rest."

"Fine by me," he smiled, sitting down on the floor and taking off his helmet.

"No, put it back on," I ordered. "Warzone, you know the rules."

I was expecting another boring watch, with nothing to shoot at and nothing to worry about. In fact, I was hoping for it.

The first sign that this wasn't going to be a regular watch came when a beam flew through Miranda's shoulder armor, taking it off her but otherwise not harming her. Everybody ducked and looked for the sniper, but no one could find it. I looked back at one of the towers on the inner wall and asked where the jackal was through signs. The sniper on top of it shrugged and shook his head.

"Ok, no flash or shooter, might be a stealth elite," I warned.

A single SRS shot rang out. "Got him," Snark said. "Stealth elite, black armor, one of those without shields."

"A scout," I murmured. "There's an attack coming soon."

"What was that Castillo?" Dajani asked me.

"A scout," I repeated. "They're preparing for a large scale attack, Yas."

"Sounds about right," he agreed. "I'll tell Tahlia, get the castle on full alert."

Sure enough, the covvies were as predictable as they came. Less than half an hour after that little incident several dozen Phantoms and even more Spirit dropships appeared in the distance. They were flying as low as they could, trying to avoid the Scythe AA gun. The weapon could aim below its base, something not common in AA weaponry, and it made quick work of several of the dropships before it got the order to stop firing. Believe it or not, we didn't have an endless supply of 20mm ammo.

The Phantoms dropped Wraiths and Revenants as well as regular infantry. The Spirits just dropped the cannon fodder, grunts and jackals.

"This is going to be a shooting range," Almers said in a surprised voice. A pleasantly surprised voice mind you.

And it was. Snark and the guys sporting sniper rifles were the first to fire. They were all well trained and none of the shots missed. As long as they measured the distance properly the shot was bound to hit something. The rest of us had to wait until the aliens got within range.

The Wraiths used their boosters to speed closer to the wall and fired their mortars. For a moment I panicked until I realized that the plasma wouldn't hit me. Then I panicked some more when I realized that the explosions would bring down the walls.

Then I laughed when I remembered that plasma had very little kinetic force, even less than a medieval trebuchet.

The blue mortars hit the inner wall and a few impacted the outer wall. I looked back and saw that smoke was coming from the stone, and the explosions had made the walls look slightly gelatinous for a few instants before they hardened again. All they could do was melt the rock only for it to harden again.

"My god, this is perfect!" I exclaimed joyfully.

The machine guns and Marines with rocket launchers were firing at the front most infantry and mortar vehicles. I could see the explosions here and there; a Wraith blew up, its turret flying up in the air. The grunts and jackals had a hard time withstanding the automatic fire from the machine guns, even at this range I could see the shields flicker and disappear from sustained gunfire. I waited until the infantry soldiers were within range before I fired. Most of the shots hit, even if not all of them were kill shots. It was almost fun to do this, fire without fear of repercussion, occasionally taking out a sniper or sharpshooter while the gunners and rocket men did the heavy lifting. It was a refreshing change of pace.

I started having fun, bringing down grunts with headshots, challenging myself not to place a single shot outside of a skull. For the most part I succeeded. My fellow ODSTs from Second Squad weren't doing too bad either, spraying or sniping at the mass of targets.

When they got closer to our walls things became a little bit harder, I had to duck a couple of times to avoid a jackal sharpshooter and the plasma rifles were now something to watch out for, but the machine guns and other defenders took care of any alien that got too excited about getting a kill. Time passed and eventually we got tired of shooting at them. They had dug down and had nice little positions right under our walls, out of heavy weapons range.

Most of the attacking forces were hanging out further back behind rocks, in ditches, or even behind small improvised fortresses consisting of wrecked vehicles and deployable shields. Those were the ones constantly taking potshots at us with their long-range weapons. The surviving Wraiths were still firing every now and then from behind cover, but we were doing well.

"Short break," I allowed my team. "Keep your heads down and get some chow."

I was already behind the battlements, taking my helmet off even despite regulations prohibiting me from doing that. The rest of my squad did the same and sat down with their backs against the short walls. I smiled to myself and pulled out a ration bar from my butt pack. It was squashed and ground almost flat, but it was still edible. Those goddamned things were always edible.

I swallowed a large bite with some trouble and gagged at the terrible taste, but already I could feel myself more full of energy than before. It was about midday and we hadn't had much of a breakfast, so I used one of my MREs, eating it straight from the waterproof bag.

"Frank."

"Hey Pavel," I told my friend, who had crouch-walked all the way here. "How goes it?"

"Not to bad," he replied, pulling out his own MRE. "Having a good time?"

"Man, I wished we had castles everywhere, we would kick their asses so bad in the ground that they'd stop bothering with invasions. Then we'd be able to evacuate civilians."

"M-hm," Pavel agreed, taking a large bite of whatever his MRE consisted of. "I can't believe they are stupid enough to keep firing at us. It's only a matter of time before they realize the…futility of their actions."

"Hey, don't complain about it too much, it works for us just fine."

"Mortar!"

Pavel and I looked up to see a blue ball of plasma slam into the top of the inner wall, actually cracking one of the battlements. I couldn't hear any cried of pain, so I guessed that they'd gotten out of the way.

Pavel looked at me and sighed. "How long until the fun ends?"

"You have an annoying tendency to ask depressing questions?"

"Me?" he exclaimed in disbelief. "You're probably the most cynical person that I know! You didn't even use to be like that."

"I've developed as a regular human being would," I told him. "I have no idea how you've stayed cheery and happy-go-lucky for over fifteen years Pavs."

"Well, I've got Amber and Lavanya to keep me in check."

I smiled at the mention of his daughter. I had seen her on our last leave and she was getting big, running around and saying some big words already. "How's Lavvie? She cry when you left?"

"She did," he replied, smiling despite himself. It was good knowing that his daughter really loved and missed him. "Amber's getting better about it, being stoic and whatnot." He sighed sadly. "She deserves better than that."

I scoffed. "We all do Pavs, besides, she knew what she was getting into when she married your sorry ass."

Pavel was about to give me a shove but paused when his hand got within an inch of the spike grenade blades embedded on my pauldron. He shook his head and instead just gave me a non-too-friendly slap. "Now that you mention the world marriage…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, " I exclaimed a little bit too loudly, drawing looks from Serge and Miranda, who were the closest to the two of us. "Marriage?"

"I'm surprised you haven't thought about it," he told me. "You and Hanna have been going steady for… what now?"

"Three years."

"Damn, that's a long time Frank. A long time to wait."

"Hanna isn't like that," I assured him. "She's never even mentioned it, and she's very vocal about what she wants."

Pavel shrugged, doing that thin where it seemed like his collarbones disjointed and his head sunk into his torso. "Just saying, might want to consider it."

"Not my thing."

"But if it is hers…"

"Damn Pavs, I don't really prod into your personal life, do I?"

"Sorry, sorry," he said apologetically. "Can I see your knife?"

It was an abrupt change of topic, but I obliged, drawing my blade and twirling it once so that I was grabbing the Damascus steel blade and the grip was facing him. Pavel examined it before grabbing it and spinning it in his hand.

"I have no idea how this little piece of metal has made it all through the war? Especially with the way you treat it."

I smiled, it was probably the last thing that I had left from home, the gift of a cook. "It does get a rough treatment, doesn't it?"

"Yup, but not a single dent on it."

"I mostly use it for stabbing," I reminded him. "And I oil it when I can."

"Isn't it stainless?" Pavel asked me, staring at the colorful blade.

"It's Damascus steel," I informed him flatly.

"I know that," he groaned. "But…bah, forget it."

I examined the blade while he looked at it. The knife was only sharp on one side, like most combat knives were, and was slightly bent forwards with the blade getting slightly thicker as it approached the point. If I had to describe it would say that it was a bastard offspring between a Nepalese kukri and a standard combat knife. The design was almost crude and it looked every bit the hand crafted knife that it was. It didn't even have a crossguard, and I had to replace the original leather grip for a more durable synthetic one long ago.

"This blade right here," Pavel said, "has seen some crazy shit. A lot more than my own little knife can claim." As he said that he yanked out his own combat knife, with small dents and a battle-worn look. "Damn, it's only the second combat knife I've had. I've had this one for almost five years."

"What happened to the other one?"

He laughed. "I forget, I don't know whether it broke or I just lost it." Pavel stopped laughing and sheathed his knife before handing me mine. "At least some things will always stay the same, right?"

I lifted my little bag of slushy food to Pavel in a mock toast. "Right."

"Cheers," he said before taking a bite.

It had been a while since Pavel and I had one of this heart to hearts. Back in the days before Reaper Squad we were always embroiled in some sort of adventure or other, we thought we were about to die many times. There are some things that you don't talk about unless you're drunk or believe you'll die. That's why nobody knew me better than Pavel and the other way around. Most of the time we just talked about whatever came to our minds, not even bothering to see if the other guy was interested.

Pavel wasn't the only one that knew some weird stuff about me. Pretty much everyone in the squad knew some unusual stuff about my life, even if they didn't know the specifics. In a way it's good that we knew each other so well, but it only made it harder when they died.

"Ok, helmet's back on!" I ordered as soon as I was done with my MRE. "Same fields of fire, keep watch for jackals."

As soon as we aimed down range again a couple of needles hit against the stone, shattering into thousands of pieces as they did that. I jumped back more than once to avoid the pink shards, but a few of them hit my armor.

There were several jackals lurking around, not even our snipers could take them all out, even if they were doing a damn good job at it. Snark alone must've bagged three dozen kills in the little time that we had before we were relieved.

Another squad came to tell us to get some rest. And a good thing too, I was just about falling asleep.

"Damn," I grunted as we made our way back to the inner walls and through the courtyard. A few Pelicans were taking off with wounded, taking them towards our spaceships in orbit or to the ground hospitals. "I'm sleepy."

"Tell me about it," Wiremu agreed.

"Relax Api," Almers told him, patting him in his shoulder. "You know how you get when you don't get your sleep."

Wiremu pushed him aside and chuckled. "Quiet."

Miranda and Serge looked particularly beat up. She had been glanced on her shoulder, and he had a concussion rifle hit the wall right behind him, transmitting some of the force into his back, jolting his bones and shaking him up. Not that he was scared or anything close, but he was in obvious physical pain. Almers, Wiremu, Caboose, Pavel and I were mostly fine except for the occasional bruise from ducking or dropping to fast.

This time we weren't allowed a room inside, most of the command corps were already occupying them and the wounded were given priority over us. Shielding the wounded was reasonable, but the officers? It was downright offensive for them to get preferential treatment. Sure they were older, but its not like they were seniors, and it's always good to see your superiors getting their fatigues dirty with you.

"So, we crash on a Pelican?" Pavel asked.

I nodded and shrugged. "I think Fightmaster's here, let's look around."

The man was sitting on the back of his Pelican, talking to a pretty girl in a mechanic's uniform. He smiled when I waved at him and excused himself from his company before coming towards us.

"Frank," he said. "Good to see you!"

"Same," I replied with a big smile. "Who's she?"

Fightmaster's smile turned into a grin as he slapped my shoulder. "What can I do for you, Gunny?"

"We need a place to crash in," I admitted. "Mind if we borrow your Pelican? We have everything else that we need."

"Sure, no problem."

"You sure?" I asked him. "Weren't planning on getting funky with Miss Mechanic?"

"Nah," he shrugged. "Well, at least not yet. Besides, she'll see me as a selfless guy that would give away his only shelter from the weather for a friend."

I looked up at the mention of the weather. Yesterday and today morning had been very warm with very few clouds. Right now the sky was overcast and it looked like it was much later than it actually was. The goddamned hurricane that we had spotted during our drop had made its way here, through an unreal stretch of land. We wouldn't get the worst of it, but I still preferred to be warm and dry. "Very well then Max," I said. "Thanks a bunch. Oh, and by the way, how's the leg?"

He outright laughed. "It's fine, thanks for asking. It's been fine for almost two years now."

"More than that," Novak said before hastily adding, "I think."

"How you doing Miri?" he asked her with a wave.

"Good, thanks," she replied, smiling as well.

"Anyways, feel free to crash inside," the lieutenant told us. "I owe you guys one, I always will…Doesn't matter. Have a nice nap."

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver," I thanked him.

The Pelican's floor was hard and cold, there was some dry and caked blood on it, but nothing that really bothered me. I took off my helmet and chest piece before removing my pauldrons. I had a thin blanket in my rucksack which I used instead of a pillow. My undersuit might've had a huge hole in the chest, but the rest was still functional. Coupled with my armor and its temperature regulating function I turned the heat slightly up and tried to fall asleep. This time it was harder than usual.

The explosions that so often sung me to sleep only served to keep me awake, eyes darting from one side to the other, expecting an attack at any minute. My head was throbbing, probably related to the stress of the job or maybe something worse. It didn't matter then, all I knew was that I needed to get some sleep or I would go crazy. Schitzo wouldn't shut up, and his friends were worse.

Come on… I urged myself, closing off from everything, both inside and outside of my head. Come on…

I was wearing armor, only not my usual armor. I looked down to see myself clad in some sort of plate armor reminiscing my regular ODST suit. It was a lot heavier and ten times as uncomfortable, but there was something about it that made me feel safe, protected. The other unusual thing was that my helmet didn't have a visor, instead it was simply made out of steel with a hole allowing me to see through. It wasn't until I looked around that I realized I was still asleep.

"Right," I said.

"What was that, my lord?" someone asked me

I turned to the man and saw Scarecrow. He was wearing the same kind of armor that I was and topped it off with a huge sword slung across his back. I was definitely in a dream and it was one of those.

"Nothing," I said, waving him away. "What are we waiting for?"

I had learned over years of these kind of vivid dreams that it was best to play along, more than once I had been attacked by my friends because there was something not right about me. Not even virtual adventures were this realistic.

I looked away from Scarecrow and his huge sword to examine my surroundings. I was in the very castle that I was sleeping in, in the outer courtyard. Atop a horse.

I didn't even know how to ride a horse.

"Sire!"

I rolled my eyes before turning to see most of my squad riding towards me. Behind them a bunch of other men clad in less ostentatious armor, carrying long spears with them. Or were they lances? Yeah, probably lances.

"Pavel," I greeted my friend with a nod of my head. I as enjoying this despite myself. These dreams always ended badly. "What are we waiting for?" I repeated, this time addressing him.

"For the commander to give the attack order of course," Pavel told me as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I never imagined you to be this bloodthirsty."
"Don't worry, my lord," Serge told me. "The enemy will break in any minute."
I could only imagine what was going on outside of these walls, there were no noises that could give me any clues as to the situation, just silence.

As more and more mounted men massed on the courtyard I started hearing a battle going on. It sounded a lot like one of those movies that I had seen with Bumblebee. One of those with steel crashing against steel and screams of anger and pain all around. It wasn't so different from my real life.

"'Tis the commander!" someone exclaimed.

"Shall she be leading this assault herself?!"

"Madness."

Why did they have to speak in that antiquated sort of way, I didn't even know how people spoke in the Middle Ages, I guess my imagination was trying to make the experience all the more…realistic.

The commander was wearing the most ridiculously ornamented armor that I had ever seen or imagined. It had very large pauldrons that verged on the side of parody. It had spikes on the knees and on the elbows as well as gilded designs running across her chestplate. To top it all off that particular section of her armor was shaped to accommodate her breasts.

"Commander," I greeted, managing to keep a straight face. I didn't want a spear through my neck.

"The castellan is about to give the order," she told me without even sparing me a glance. "You'll get your glory in a moment Frank."

I nodded absent-mindedly and fiddled with my sword. It had a handle long enough for me to use both hands, but wasn't long enough that I couldn't wave it around with just one.

The commander still kept Lieutenant Hayes' sexy voice, even if her face had become something right out of a movie, prettier than the real thing but with the traces there. I didn't mind. It allowed me to stare without the risk of any real repercussions.

Then the lieutenant, no, the commander, put on her helmet.

I sighed inwardly. Her helm was also gilded with fancy designs.

"Sire," someone said from below.

I grabbed a long spear with a folded standard on top and watched it unfold as I raised it. Not surprisingly, it had a golden skull on a field of crimson. The skull had flames on top of it. "Thanks, lad," I told the kid. Lad? I mouthed to myself. Now that was ridiculous.

"Open the gates!" came the order.

The massive wooden doors opened to show grunts and jackals with pink crystal swords and axes trying to jump through. All were killed by the commander's personal guard. I smiled at that, the knights hadn't even batted an eyelash.

As the door opened slowly I could see arrows raining on an army of Covenant. They were trying to cover themselves with wooden shields or their comrades' corpses, but it was to no avail, already they were falling back towards the safety of their own lines.

"Charge!"

Now that was an order I was unfamiliar with.

My horse reared its legs and for a moment I was afraid I'd fall down on my ass, but it looked like dream me knew how to do this kind of shit. I held to the haft of my lance tightly and spurred my horse forward. Already the commander was out of the door, with her personal squad immediately behind her, cleaving in half any alien that got close enough to them.

I could see why we were charging, the enemy was falling back en masse and we wanted to destroy them before they got to safety. On horses it was easy going, slashing and stabbing with near impunity while the small aliens just tried to run away from our steel. I didn't really do much, instead just running over some grunts while keeping my standard high in the air.

"They're routing!" the commander yelled. "Press forward!"

We chased and chased them until we came to a hill. That's where something felt wrong to me, but this was only a dream, so I paid it no heed. My horse climbed over the hill, trampling jackals and grunts as it went. When we came to the top I could see that the few survivors from the escaping force were taking cover behind a wall of elites and a few hunters. The hunters used their shield arms to cover the elites, who had spears that resembled their energy swords.

"Form up, form up!"

Horses shuffled and moved to form a straight line. There was no chance that we could make our line longer than theirs, but we were cavalry and they were just puny infantrymen, we could crush their line and destroy them.

"Archers!"

At that command a few dozen arrows landed on the enemy force. Most of the elites that were hit with the huge broad-heads fell down, in pain even if they were not dead. The hunters were another matter entirely, barely flinching under the steel bites. The barrage was sustained for another two minutes before finally the order to charge was given.

This time I did lower my lance. It was a great sensation, to be trampling the enemy that so often trampled us. Our horses jumped over their spears and landed on top of them. I laughed as I stabbed an elite through the neck and yanked my spear back out. The standard was already soaking with purple blood.

"Grigori!" I yelled for my man, handing him the standard. "Take care of it."

He nodded and we were off to killing. I drew my sword and slashed and stabbed as my horse moved forward.

Then it got stabbed in the neck, making me fall over its head and land on my back. I wheezed for air, trying to get up. An elite pressed its foot against my chest and drew back its spear, but I slashed at its legs with my sword. It wasn't enough to cut them off, but it fell and I proceeded to stab it three times in the chest before getting back up. All around me I could see that our horses had been stopped. In front of me was a wall of elites wearing fancy armor and fancy helmets, their spears actually having energy blades.

"What?"

I was kicked backwards before I could think. I rolled and jumped back up, running away from the elite attacking me. As I did that I saw that the hill that we had come from was crowded with more troops. Those weren't our friends, they were elites riding some monstrous cross between a horse and a Tyrannosaur.

"Shit."

Once again, a dream would end up with me stabbed several times.

I knew that this was not real, but still I fought as it were. I have no idea where I learned to use a sword, but apparently I was a master in here. Several elites fell to my blade before an arrow punched through my armor and landed on my shoulder.

Yup, just like in the movies. I fell just as a soldier in medieval marine armor was decapitated, landing on top of me. I looked at the arrow and confirmed that only the top had gone through and that even then just a little bit of it had pierced my skin. Judging from the size it was a jackal arrow.

I didn't get up, I was afraid. The elites were butchering us humans from both sides, Cavalry on one end and pikemen on the other.

"Get up man!" I was ordered. "Up, up!"

I was yanked to my feet by a huge figure that I could only assume was the equivalent of a Spartan in my dreams. It pulled the arrow from my shoulder, ignoring all common sense and medical knowledge that it might've possessed. Surprisingly enough, my shoulder started hurting considerably less.

"We fight to the end," it told me, hefting an elite spear and throwing it at a charging horseman. The elite fell to the floor with a spear through its chest.

The Spartan had a Greek-style helmet, with a red crest running the length of it. In one hand it had a sword and in the other, an axe. It spun and stabbed and slashed and hacked away at enemies while I tried to keep up, falling desperately behind. Fortunately, I was not a center of attention, instead just slashing at a few enemies.

We couldn't last forever though. One of the elites stabbed the Spartan's leg with a spear, pinning him to the ground. The Spartan threw his axe at the elite, hitting him in the chest and killing it, but another one soon stabbed him in the chest. I could see the aliens swarming him, but couldn't help.

Something struck me in the head and I fell down. The moment I looked up I saw a giant foot coming to my face.

I woke up for real, breathing heavy and blood coming out of my nose. I wiped it away and grunted in annoyance. The dream had not been a pleasant one, I knew that much even if I couldn't remember all of it.

"Gunny," someone asked form outside. "Oh, you awake?"

"Yeah," I replied, still wiping blood from my nose. "What?"

"We need you and your squad on your position, the enemy is preparing for a mass assault."

I sighed. "I'll be there in a minute."

"So, here we go again," Schitzo said almost sadly.

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

So, that last section gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "going medieval on their asses." Believe it or not, that dream is based on one that i had the day before writing it. Sure, it wasn't as long or as epic and didn't involve the Covenant as enemies, but I do remember the feeling of almost having a spear punch through my neck. In my dream my companions were characters from Game of Thrones. I am strangely ashamed to admit that they were all Lannisters.

Well, that's it for my dream, let's focus on the rest of the chapter. It had been a while since Frank and Pavel last had a one-on-one talk, so it's good to finally have them chat like that. Now, for the ones who said that Second Squad didn't really have much character depth, I agree. So far I am not entirely sure how many of them are going to stay alive, so I don't want to give too much focus to one character that will only die abruptly in the next chapter. Or maybe I do, make it hurt when you guys read it. I know I did it blatantly with Adama, so maybe I'm lying right now.

Still, they will gain more character traits and depth as the story goes on. A little food for thought, Serge and Caboose get along greatly, mostly because they don't talk at all and have the same mentality on war, but if you examine their backgrounds they're virtual opposites, one fought for his country right or wrong and the other fought for independence for perceived wrongs. Interesting contrast, don't you think?

On other news, Halo 4 is out! And I finished it in Legendary co-op! Which means that now I have to finish it solo! Fuck yeah I'm going to die so many times! I also get new weapons, equipment, and lore to play around with! No, seriously, Halo 4 was great, I have to say that it was pretty much everything that I expected of a Halo game, perhaps even better than Combat Evolved. If you haven't bought it, I can tell you that the price is worth it, and the multiplayer is still the Halo we all love so much despite its CallOfDutyfication.

Now, to address your (very appreciated reviews): Claire and Marina will be showing up, in fact, I just finished writing a chapter where they both appear. Knives won't be named with carvings. I think that Frank's sword duel was pretty awesome too. I don't know why I haven't given them jetpacks, I had it in my mind that ODSTs with jetpacks were specialist units, but the idea is rather interesting. The jumping out of the pod idea has been toyed with, it could work with jetpacks...hmmm.

Oh, and one very important thing that I completely forgot to mention last chapter. Squashing a chieftain with a drop pod was an idea by reviewer graysontyoung. Bro, I'm sorry I forgot to credit you for it, but believe me when I say that I was totally going to do it when I wrote that scene down. Again, thanks go to him.

Ladies and gentlemen, apologies for the long post-chapter note, but some things have to be said and others I just say because this is my story and I can. Do not forget that your reviews are appreciated and that the current goal is 666 reviews, just 74 more to go. I'd love to hear what you thought on the medieval dream scene, it was tons of fun to write.

Stay strong.

-casquis