Chapter CLXVI: Plaza

January 24, 2549 (UNSC Calendar)/

Udinia, Paris IV, Paris System

"I guess there are worse places to fight in than a wide open plaza with absolutely no cover to speak off and several ways in or out that you can't block off. Vacuum, or Mercury during summer perhaps..."– Corporal Dana Bamber

Gunfire had been the only constant sound for the past couple of hours. Even the unusual noise that plasma weaponry made had to stop every now and then. We got all the varieties of the soundtrack of war. Gunfire with plasma fire, gunfire with human and alien artillery, gunfire with explosions, gunfire with engines, and gunfire with screams. The screaming, I had never heard so much screaming in my entire life. I had fought enough battles to know how a painful death sounded or how a soldier or Marine would react to being gutted by an energy sword or pierced by a needle, but I had never heard the screams of terror that the civilians of Udinia gave as an inexorable and merciless enemy approached.

The screaming couldn't be easily ignored. Had it been constant I would've just grown used to it, but instead it was an intermittent thing, with an occasional high-pitched scream or a small crowd crying in fear when they were found and promptly executed. I could sense that it was getting to some of the younger members of my platoon from the way they tensed at the nearer screams. Myself? I did my best to convince myself that they were only mild annoyances. I didn't even need to try that hard and soon I stopped wondering if Katie had been amongst the victims. I couldn't afford to be distracted right now.

"Frank!" Pavel shouted from below the landing pad. "Another counter-attack! Hurry it up!"

I cursed as I sat on the Pelican seats and tightened the straps on the armor that covered my forearms. My own rifle was leaning against the seat next to my own while Dana did her best to put on her own armor as quick as she could. I put on my helmet made sure that it was properly tightened so that it wouldn't bounce around. I immediately grabbed the M7S that I had been using for the past couple of hours and collapsed the stock before slinging it over my shoulder. A regular, unsilenced M7 would've been shorter than this sub machine gun, but I had to make due with what was available.

My own blades had been brought down to the planet along with my armor, the weight of the two knives on the small of my back and left shoulder felt comfortable and familiar along with that of my other knife on my right boot.

"Bamber," I snapped. "Move it!"

Dana was just finishing securing her chest piece as I said that. She finished securing it and grabbed the heavy Spartan Laser at her feet, shouldering it before securing it across her back, moving her shoulders experimentally. A second later she picked up an almost skeletal looking MA5K with absolutely no attachments and nodded at me. Both of us hopped down the Pelican's hatch and jogged towards the stairs that led from the landing pad and inside the building. We ran through a windowless hallway before coming into a room that had been hit a couple of times by Wraith mortars. Half of Pavel's platoon was there, but Pavel himself had moved on towards the streets.

"Bamber, stay here," I told the woman. "Provide covering fire with the men and use your Spartan Laser as sparingly as possible or when I order you to."

"Yes, sir."

I joined my own squad on the lobby of the building. It was a short and stocky building that had been designed with the rental of office space in mind as its main purpose, it covered half of one of the sides that surrounded the plaza where the SAM had been destroyed. The wreckage of the weapon served to block vehicles from coming in through one of the corners, but it also functioned as cover for the Covenant. We had been constantly harassed from that direction, but we couldn't afford to focus on them when we had more important matters at hand. Namely the three Wraiths formed up in column and the fifty covvies moving up towards our position.

"Caboose, report!"

"We have them on our sights, Zepeda's got a nice perch to shoot from."

I moved out of the lobby and sprinted towards one of the overturned cars that we had made to form a wall. Coupled with debris form the buildings around the street we had a pretty formidable wall that reached from the building all the way to the edge of the fountain in the center of the plaza. Pavel and half of his men alongside with my own squad manned the wall, rifles propped up on car hoods and trunks. Black scorch marks and small craters marked the spots where plasma bolts and mortar shots had hit.

So far none of my men had been seriously wounded. There was the small matter of LIzzo losing his index and middle fingers on the left hand, but the bleeding was stopped and he was high on painkillers. He was relatively safe up in the room with Bamber and the rest of Pavel's squad, up there his missing fingers wouldn't hurt his aim terribly and he could provide good support with his machine gun.

Two burnt husks that had once been Wraiths smoked a dozen meters from our wall while several Ghosts lay overturned or destroyed all over through the section of the plaza.

"Pavel, sitrep!"

I slid into an empty position, the cut on my leg throbbing at the move. I shrugged the pain off and aimed down range. The smoke grenades and smoking vehicles were doing us a favor, partially concealing us from sight while Caboose and Recon Squad could designate targets for us from their position. In short, we could see them before they could pinpoint our positions.

Pavel huffed before replying. "The leading elements of Cutthroat Company already reached the southeast corner of the plaza. They're forming up before moving forward."

I didn't blame them for their hesitation to move across the plaza. The eastern side had absolutely no cover for them to use.

"Galván promised to send us a Scorpion tank and those 'Hogs you requested, but it's going to take a while."

"There's a good man," I replied. "Ammunition reserves?"

"Plenty," he replied.

I nodded slowly, aiming at the outline of a Wraith. I could barely see the tank through all the smoke, but Recon provided a different point of view that our helmets automatically used to update our targets.

"Zepeda, do you see the leader?"

He replied with an acknowledgement light.

"Take him out on my mark," I ordered. "Miri, Hoff, Atkins, and Montri, I want you to take out the gunners on the two lead Wraiths as soon as Zepeda fires."

"Yes, sir," they replied simultaneously.

I waited another second. "Fire."

One of the red silhouettes jerked violently to one side and collapsed.

You know, they really should start disguising their officers as low-ranking minors.

The thought was spoken out loud, but it got the platoon chuckling. The chuckle contrasted with the barrage of gunfire that came after that. Two of the elites manning the plasma cannons recoiled and jerked violently as they were hit from two different angles each. Their shields promptly failed and they slumped over, dead.

The surviving elites ordered their troops forward and the Covenant column rushed our position. Whoever commanded them was smarter than most, because he stopped his troops a couple dozen meters from our wall and had them take cover behind the wrecked Wraiths and Ghosts. That maneuver partially concealed them from Recon's sight and still kept them in the cover of the smoke. It was at times like this that I started weighing the advantages and disadvantages of smoke grenades against one another.

"Movement, movement right!"

"Watch for that gunner!"

I cursed as the one Wraith with a living gunner started strafing our position. The ground soldiers started slowly moving up, deploying shield covers as they went and hiding behind them.

For the past few hours the lack of a decent HUD had been sorely missed. My headpiece worked well enough when it came to identifying targets and its target reticlewas certainly better than nothing, but it didn't have nearly the same range of movement and quality of my helmet's HUD. The aliens were outlined in red and those that were behind the smoke had their last known position tagged for a second or two before they were seen by someone else's helmet cam.

Every movement brought pain to my leg, but it was worth it every time I saw the spray of blood when my shots hit the mark.

One of the intact Wraiths stopped and pivoted ever so slightly before its cannon aimed at a position in our wall.

"Out of the way!" Hoff yelled. I turned and saw several of my Helljumpers run quickly and dive out of the way of the bright blue fireball that landed in the position that they had previously occupied.

The explosion was hot enough to melt half the car that it hit and ignite the hydrogen fuel cells in a secondary explosion that consumed the rest of it. Debris from the explosion landed all around us.

"Pavel, seal the gap!" I yelled. "Bamber!"

Dana quickly fired a shot at the Wraith that had fired at us, giving away her position and that of several other members of HW Squad. The bright red line punched a hole through the Wraith's heavy front armor as if it were paper, the gunner was completely incinerated by the beam and the Wraith itself collapsed to the plaza's floor with a dull thud. Even as that happened Pavel dismounted his machine gun form a car's hood and ran towards the newly created gap. Hoff and the rest of the scattered ODSTs were shuffling back to their feet, their heartbeats elevated from the sudden rush of adrenaline.

"Block the gap!" I yelled hoarsely. I could see that the aliens closest towards us were exploiting the small advantage that their tanks provided them.

The second Wraith stopped as well in order to aim at a position behind and to our side. It fired one blast before turning slightly and firing another one. I turned to see two sections of the office building covering our flank explode in a flash of plasma and stone.

"Bamber, report!" I ordered loudly.

"We're good, Lizzo is still giggling like an idiot."

"Relocate and provide support. I want you to hand back and shoot the third Wraith, the one with the gunner as soon as you can."

"Yes, sir!"

"They're coming through!" Livingston shouted. "Jackals up front, big ones in the back!"

I turned back around to see that five jackals were moving forward with overlapped shields, a pair of elites behind them, firing at our positions with repeaters, taking turns so that their weapons wouldn't overheat.

"Marv, Sandor, fire at their flanks!" I shouted.

The two men did as ordered and the small formation was forced to turn sideways ever so slightly in order to account for the gunfire. The change in formation gave me an opening and I shot at a jackal's armored leg. It sagged slightly and fell to the floor, providing easy picking for Pavel and Hoff. The rest of the formation, however, compensated properly and started firing at Marv and Sandor in order to move up again.

"Lieutenant?" Caboose came in.

"A little longer," I growled in reply, firing at the jackal's shields to no effect. Sometimes it seemed like the little fucks could take as much as an elite before finally resigning to their fates.

They were moving a lot slower now, but the jackals and elites still shuffled forward at an uncomfortably fast pace. Pavel's M247L fired a stream of bullets at the shields. Some were flattened against the energy field's surface and some other bounced, making whistling noises as they ricocheted. The elites behind the wall of shields fired at him, forcing him to stop shooting and Hoff and Livingston to pick up the slack.

"Lieutenant?" Caboose asked again.

I understood his concern. If the small force made it through we would be forced to shoot at them and nullify the threat. We would succeed quickly, but the angle at which they would enter meant that we faced a very real risk of friendly fire. With the enemies just a few feet away from our position Caboose had little window to fire before he too faced the risk of hitting us.

One jackal's shield finally gave out, the red energy field suddenly disappearing. The jackal behind the shield stood dumbounded (dumbfounded) for a fraction of a second before a dozen bullets pierced its body. The jackal collapsed and with it the two next to it, leaving just another bird and two split-chins for us to face.

"Sir?" Caboose asked, a touch of urgency in his usually calm voice.

"Now!"

The two elites and the jackal were riddled with fire from their other flank. They quickly fell to combined fire from three different directions. Bamber chose that exact same moment to fire her Spartan Laser for the second time. The beam hit another Wraith, the one that had been hunting her and her group. The tank's armor proved as ineffective as the other one, but this time the laser detonated the plasma reserves and sent the tank's turret to the sky while pieces of shrapnel flew in every other direction.

Sandor laughed with mirth as the jagged pieces of metal cut any unshielded Covenant soldiers nearby to ribbons. The man truly liked seeing the aliens dying. His tastes agreed with mine.

"Lieutenant, enemy snipers have been dispatched," Zepeda came in. I was momentarily stunned at the sound of his voice. It wasn't very often that he spoke so many words.

I ducked back behind cover. "Probably sent to dispatch Bamber…" I muttered

"Yes," he agreed.

"Keep an eye out for them," I ordered. "Since you haven't relocated I assume you weren't spotted. Keep it that way, kill the snipers on sight."

He opted to give me an acknowledgement light instead of a word, but by this time I was already used to his silent replies.

"Sir! That gunner is giving is hell!" Miranda yelled from a few cars over.

She was right. The blue bolts were melting through the sheet metal of the cars at a rather worrying pace, and if given enough time they would reduce one of the cars to a pile of molten slag and the covvies would have two gaps in our wall to attack.

I quickly looked around, my HUD marking my men with nametags. I quickly spotted Carver. "Carver!"

"Sir?"

"Ten rounds for the gunner!"

I could almost see his smile. "Yes, sir. Right away, sir!"

"Covering fire!" I yelled.

All the Helljupers down on the plaza fired wildly in all directions, aiming to scare the covvies into taking cover. Sometimes I wondered why that tactic was still effective after centuries of being used. One could immediately deduce whether the enemy attempted to actually hit us or just scare us by the accuracy of the shots. Normally one would think that after so many years of knowing nothing but battle a warrior would know better than to take cover for the wildly inaccurate gunfire. Instead, the instinct for survival was so deeply ingrained that even the most knowledgeable of us ducked when they heard the enemy's fire intensifying so drastically.

Despite that biological disadvantage both of us were smart and experienced. They would realize their mistake and our intention soon enough and would just be incredibly pissed and willing to waste their plasma if it scared us as much as we had scared them.

That small window was all we needed. Carver left cover and took what seemed like an uncomfortably long time to aim at the gunner. He depressed the trigger five times in quick succession, firing as fast as the spinning rate of his weapon's revolver-style magazine allowed him to. The rocket-assisted grenades flew forward with enough force to shatter the elite's shield in one hit. The explosions that followed served to completely obliterate the upper body of the gunner and damage the Wraiths cannon. It wouldn't be enough to stop it from shooting, but the damage might reduce its accuracy enough to save us.

"Or doom us," Schitzo said. "Wraith gunners aren't renowned for their accuracy."

How could they? When their tanks lob plasma instead of firing in a straight line.

"That felt a little bit like you were tempting fate, Francisco," he said.

Sure enough, half a minute later a Daemon tank rolled through, twenty Covenant soldiers in tow.

"Come on!" Sandor complained loudly. "Seriously?!"

I turned towards Pavel, who had just finished taking care of an elite major. "How are we on those tanks?"

"Cutthroat has finished clearing the enemies directly in front of them, the Warthogs are moving up as we speak."

"I figure that Gausses are too much to hope for?"

"You figure right," he replied.

I cursed and kept on firing even as the Daemon tank and its escort moved closer. "Caboose, has Recon relocated?"

"Yes, sir."

"Take out the Daemon's escort and hit its gunner if you can."

"Right away, lieutenant."

I have no idea how Recon Squad managed to move across the street and up another building without anybody noticing. Even I had not seen them, true, I had been occupied with battle, but I was supposed to know where they were going to come through. Their stealth paid off and soon enough the newcomers found themselves being fired upon from higher ground. The red elites promptly fell under the onslaught, with the other footsoldiers moving towards the sides for cover. Several of the elites fell in the first onslaught, and many of the grunts died as they ran for cover. The aliens found their numbers cut by more than half in the first few seconds of the attack.

The Daemon stopped and turned its turret as fast as it could. It raised the cannon at the windows that Recon had been occupying and fired three shots in quick succession, blasting debris all over the street below.

"No casualties," Caboose came in. "But we need to move."

I had no time to reply to that, seeing as the rest of the aliens still trying to kill us all had suddenly found their balls once again. The remaining elites did what their race usually did when faced with a tough situation; roar and yell angrily while recklessly sacrificing their lives in order to kill some of us.

I ducked from needle rifle fire and cursed the elites for being so goddamned accurate all the time. Say what you say about them, but they knew their profession well.

"Warthogs moving up," Pavel called.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and heard the roar of the heavy machine guns even as I saw the results they provided. The large caliber bullets tore through shield, armor, and flesh with ease and the two Warthogs pivoted to the side and concentrated their fire on the last remaining Wraith.

The tank turned and fired, missing wildly.

"Bamber, where the hell are you?"

"Sorry, sir," she replied. "We were informed that snipers were looking for us."

"Don't worry about it now," I said. "Hit that Wraith. Zepeda, be ready."

The bright red beam hit the Wraith's damaged cannon, destroying it and rendering the vehicle useless. Two purple beams crossed the length of the plaza from different locations, but judging from Bamber's cursing, they missed by inches. Zepeda dispatched them with his SRS a second later, having pinpointed their locations and gotten them to expose themselves. I didn't see the result of his work, but the snipers didn't fire again.

"Courtesy of Captain Galván," one of the Marines from the Warthogs called.

"Position yourselves over there," I ordered, marking a waypoint for them. "I don't want that Daemon hitting you."

"Yessir, how considerate of you."

I rolled my eyes at the comment but kept silent. Marines could get so cocky when they saved someone.

The Daemon fired at them before they could get out of range. The shell detonated in between the two 'Hogs, sending the one in the front on a front wheelie that seemed dangerously close to flipping the car before it slammed back down and drove away. The tail 'Hog flipped backwards immediately, the Marines manning it shouting as that happened.

"Hit the tank!" I shouted. "Andy, with me."

We left the cover of our wall and walked towards the overturned Warthog. Plasma fire intensified as the covvies noticed our movement and we were forced to dive into the explosion crater from the Damon's shell. I could still feel the heat from the explosion.

"Zepeda, I want you taking out everything you see," I ordered. "Caboose, provide covering fire!"

Fuck their secret positions, I wanted to get this over with. Maybe it was about time that I started having some of my other men carry anti-tank weapons. The Spartan Laser had incredible range, accuracy, and power, but it was because it was overpowered that I was hesitant to use it most of the time. Sandor would do, he'd certainly love carrying a SPANKr.

The gunfire intensified and didn't let up. Plasma bolts started flying in different directions and Andy and I were free to leave the crater and slide behind cover behind the Warthog. Two out of the three Marines inside were still alive. The passenger had been cut in the face and throat with pieces of the windshield. The driver had slammed his head against the wheel and dashboard, but he seemed to be fine. The gunner had been squashed by the 'Hog when it flipped and would only lose both legs if she was lucky, but she'd live.

"God…" she muttered before slipping into unconsciousness.

"Andy," I said. "Stabilize her."

My squad's medic nodded and started checking for additional lacerations while pulling out tourniquets. The driver was still strapped to his chair. I supported his weight with my shoulder, hoping he didn't have any spinal injuries, and released the buckle. I gently lowered him into the street and examined his wounds. The goggles on his helmet had been shattered and there were some nasty cuts around his eyes. The eyes would bruise and the cuts would turn into scars, but it wasn't anything serious, the eyes themselves seemed intact.

"I've cut the bleeding and administered painkillers, but both of her femurs are broken and anything below the knees is completely shattered. She probably has a concussion and maybe some broken ribs," Andrea informed me. "The driver?"

"He's fine, hit his head pretty hard."

Andy peeked over the side of the 'Hog. "Do we take them to the wall?"

"No."

"Building then?"

I glanced at the lobby of the building. It was too far away to carry someone at a sprint, especially considering that you seemed to become a priority target whenever you were helping a fellow Marine.

"Too far," I muttered. "Place them in the crater. They should be safe unless someone shoots an explosive directly over them."

Andy shrugged. "Ok, cover me."

I pivoted from cover and shot at anything outlined in red. The new heavy barrel variant of the Battle Rifle was very precise. That in itself is high praise, considering just how good the previous version was. I shot at a couple of grunts with needlers while Andy dragged the gunner and placed her in the crater. She returned and carried the driver back towards the crater. Once they were both there she returned to cover with me.

"The Warthog should still be in working order," I said. These things were impossible to wreck unless you actually blew them up. "Help me tip it."

"Banshees!" Hoff yelled.

Well, we'd have an AA machine gun just in time to take them out then.

"Come on," I urged Andy.

We tackled the Warthog and pushed, tilting it up before it fell back down. "Harder!"

I heard Andrea grunt in pain at tackling the 'Hog for the second time, but we managed to get it on its side and hold it there. We pushed one more time and gravity dragged the Warthog back into a proper position.

"You drive," I yelled, hopping on the rear and grabbing the heavy machine gun. "Come on!"

I was firing even before Andy hopped on. The Banshees that Hoff had spotted were coming in at an almost vertical angle. The cannon barely gave me an angle to shoot at them, but it was enough to destroy one of them. The pilots realized that the Warthog was still a threat and broke off in different directions. I could feel the Daemon's cannon turning towards me even as I gunned down another Banshee, tearing its wing from the body. The attack craft rolled and slammed into a building before blowing up, leaving me with just another two Banshees to handle.

Gunfire from another LAAG machine gun drew the attention of the two Banshees away from us and Andy managed to avoid being hit by the first shell from the Daemon.

Bamber fired her Spartan Laser at the Daemon, but the thing shrugged off the blast, with only smoke coming out of the impact point. The Daemon turned to fire at Dana.

"Shit."

The blast blew up windows on three different floors and I got static from Dana's suit, but her life signs appeared a moment later. I sighed in relief as the tank turned its cannon towards us again. I fired at it in order to gain some time, but the beer bottle-sized bullets bounced of the thick armor, producing sparks and minor scratches.

It was precisely at that time that a Scorpion tank fired at the Daemon from what any tanker would've considered extremely close range. The M808 Main Battle Tank fired a 90mm tungsten shell that hit the spot where the Daemon's turret met the main body. The explosion was violent enough to tilt the whole tank backwards before it slammed back down, its front scraping the plaza's floor before the anti-grav units regained power. The Daemon wasted no time, firing a round straight at the Scorpion at the same time the tanker fired its second shot.

The Scorpion's armor took the hit, but only just. The armor covering the front right tread was completely destroyed and a good portion of the front armor was damaged. The entire battlefield appeared hypnotized by the spectacle. I was watching the two tanks calmly slugging out at each other, both of them smoking and stationary. The Scorpion managed to fire a third shot before the Daemon could fire its second shell. The blast was enough to punch through the weakened armor of the tank and destroy the turret. After that the Scorpion fired three more shells into the main body of the Covenant tank in order to kill anybody inside. If I remembered the specs correctly that was three dead elites.

The Scorpion then switched to less important targets, hitting clusters of covvie soldiers and blasting away at window buildings. With the tank on our side we quickly repelled the assault, with the few remaining aliens running back towards their bases in the park. My Helljumpers roared in victory even as Cutthroat Company moved forward with Tortoise troop transports and a Gauss 'Hog.

"You, in the Scorpion," I shouted. "Move up and place your tank in the gap!"

"Yes, sir!" he replied, turning his tank around to plug the hole in our defenses. If we had some time we would place several cars in front to further protect the damaged Scorpion, but right now its own weakened armor would do.

My own men celebrated, talking with one another, but they still kept watch on the Covenant positions. Knowing those alien bastards it wouldn't be long before they decided to attack us again, with larger numbers and more armored and air support.

"Lieutenant Castillo!"

I turned in the direction of the voice to see the commanding officer of Cutthroat. Lieutenant Ana Maya was a couple of years older than me and had been in charge of that company since before I had arrived on the Flawless. She was good at her job and commanded the respect of her men, (comma to period) I couldn't have asked for more.

"Maya, good to have you here."

"Seems like we arrived just in time."

I shrugged. "We could've handled it, but you did save some lives."

"You're welcome," she replied, looking around while her men positioned their vehicles to form a wall that covered the other side of the plaza. They received some small arms fire from a pair of covvie squads, but the cannons on the Tortoises quickly took them out along with half the building that they occupied. The debris blocked off a large portion of the street, if any tank tried to come through they would be funneled through the small gap that the pile of rock formed.

"Caboose, I want you and Recon down here ASAP, same goes for Zepeda."

"Right away," he replied.

I turned back to Maya. "What's the situation back there?"

Maya crouched and I followed. "Udinia is a mess," she replied. "The city's filled with Covenant pockets of resistance."

That was a minor improvement, a few hours ago it had been occupied by UNSC pockets of resistance, at least now we held the majority of Udinia. "Has the Army Group deployed?"

"Yes," she said. "They are moving up from the south, but they're encountering heavy resistance. There are a couple of Covenant battalions holding them back, but Battalion Two and some of the men from Naverone are redeploying to hit them from the rear." Lieutenant Maya tilted her neck to one side until it cracked and then rubbed the spot. "Another enemy force moved up on the Air Force base, reports indicate that they suffered heavy losses, but they took the base and killed the majority of the complement."

"Shit, we could've used the air support."

"Yes," she agreed, "but we'll have to do with what we have."

"And what exactly do we have?" I asked her. Reports from Al and other sources were vague. Cyber attacks on all human systems had left us struggling to communicate. "I know that there are two small Marine bases on the city's outskirts."

"One of them was completely wiped out by the Covenant destroyer, glassed in passing and no survivors. Scout teams report that no salvageable equipment was found."

"The other one?"

"Intact. The men repelled a probing attack and called for support, Commander Becker sent Apex and Boomer under Galván to do just that. They report that the base is intact."

"What does it hold?"

"Men, 'Hogs, a small number of Pelicans, and a small fleet of Hornets."

I nodded with a small smile. "The pilots are going to be pretty busy."

"Yes," she agreed. "We can win this city with some effort as long as the destroyer doesn't decide to start burning everything," Maya muttered, glancing warily at the part of the ship that showed through the buildings. "We have the advantage in numbers and equipment, but if we don't get those Shortsword bombers…"

"What about the Onager cannons?" I asked her.

"Most of them were destroyed during the initial assaults. The covvies do well to fear them. There are a couple that remained intact, but the one that has an angle on the ship is damaged. Repair crews are on the way."

I nodded slowly, I didn't know what the higher-ups were planning, but I would have to be a fool not to see the pieces. We had one Onager cannon that was presumably far enough away to get off a few shots before it was taken out by the destroyer. In addition to that we had Shortswords being readied from one of the nearest cities.

"What news do you have on the battle group?"

"Not sure, the invasion fleet snuck past them without firing off a shot, and they've got the Super MACs to help them. I imagine that they're waiting for the enemy to get back into range before they turn their backs to them to help us."

I pictured the situation in my head. It was a double standoff. The invasion fleet was at least partially exposed to fire from the atmosphere, but we didn't want to risk it because the rest of the Covenant fleet could take advantage of the movement to attack while their backs were turned. The Covenant fleet in turn couldn't close in because the Super MACs would tear through their shields and armor as easily as a hot knife through butter.

"Curious little situation we find ourselves in," I chuckled.

"Agreed. I hadn't given mutually assured destruction a thought ever since high school history."

"MAD…" I said. "I remember a bit of it, but they didn't teach us anything of the sort in Jericho VII."

"Not a lot of history there?"

"Nah," I shook my head. "Only a couple hundred years of peace and prosperity that ended in fire and blood."

Great, I'm quoting more of Bee's shit now.

"Very poetic," Maya noted. "The situation remains the same, though. We need to take out a fully-shielded Covenant destroyer with no nukes or magnetic weaponry."

"Gather all the tanks and shoot at it at the same time."

"There aren't enough tanks in this world, Castillo."
The statement was only half-truth. I had no doubt that with enough Scorpions we could take out the shields, but gathering them would be a problem.

"So we wait for the repairson the Onager and for the Shortswords to arrive then?" I asked. "With enough conventional explosives we could weaken the shield enough for the Onager to break through a section of it."

"Which one are they going to go for?" she asked. "Plasma projector or engines?"

"Plasma projector, obviously," I replied. "Wanna bet on it?"

"I'm not an idiot," Maya replied. "Of course they're going to take out the weaponry first."

I stood back up and checked the ammunition count on my rifle, opting to replace the magazine with a fresh one. "Our own orders?"

"We hold the line and wait for reinforcements. As soon as we've got enough numbers we move towards the park."

I sighed, the orders had been the same ever since Hayes and the rest of Jaguar landed on the plaza. The pods had been used to form the wall, with most of them already behind us. They had severed their purpose as deployment vehicles and cover, but now they just hindered vehicle movements.

"Good talking to you, Maya," I said, jogging off towards Pavel. The CO of Cutthroat just let out a gruff sound in reply.

Pavel was busy resting from the previous encounter, resting his head against a battered sedan. His half-empty machine gun rested by his side and within quick reach of his arms. He looked up and depolarized his visor. "Hail, glorious leader, good to see you back in armor."

I patted my chest affectionately. "Yeah, feels good too."

Pavel groaned as he pushed himself back so that his back was straight. "Figures you want a report, sir."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah."

"I had my men pull back inside the building," he replied. "Carver's still here with us, but the rest of HW is providing overwatch. You want them to come back down?"

"Yeah."

"I'll order it as soon as they've had some rest."

"Don't make it too long, Pavs," I told him. "Lizzo?"

"Giggling stopped, but he's still pretty numb form all the painkillers."

"Let's just be glad he can still aim his weapon." I looked at the direction where I knew HW was resting. I read their status on my HUD quickly, the sensors on the suits giving me a rough outline of their current condition. I didn't take them too seriously though, the readings themselves warned me that they weren't nearly a hundred percent accurate.

My platoon was in fine working order, a small miracle considering that twenty-four men had faced down a superior force with armored support. Ignore the fact that we had to be rescued by Cutthroat's heavy armor and we were nearly demigods when it came to fighting a battle.

"Could you be any more self-satisfied with yourself?" Schitzo asked with a groan.

Yes. I could like myself more as a person…

"Francisco, sometimes I think that you were born with the wrong genitalia."

And sometimes I wished that I could rip his eyes from their sockets.

Schitzo shrugged. "I know when I'm not wanted," he said before simply disappearing.

I grunted and realized that Pavel was looking at me with a concerned expression. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine," I replied.

"Head ok?"

"Yeah," I assured him. "Head ok."

Pavel nodded slowly before slouching back down. I patted him on the shoulder and walked back towards my position. The men and women of Cutthroat Company were already bolstering our defenses and finishing the other end of the defensive wall. I looked at the Tortoises, their heavy cannons and coaxial machine guns turned to aim towards the Covenant positions. I noted that they had been placed so that they could move if fired at with a Wraith. Smart move, with scouts to warn them any shot fired would likely miss.

From my position I could just see the tip of one of the destroyer's leg-like structures. I desperately wanted to see it burning on the ground.

"Tough day, eh Lieutenant?" Miranda asked.

I looked at her and thought about the day. It had started out with me in the hospital, having just received the worst beating of my entire life at the hands of a mere jarhead. After that I had found myself at the workplace of a one night stand from five years ago because somewhere deep inside I still loved her. Once I met with Katie I realized that I had hurt her beyond anything I could've imagined and in the end I had secured another date/meeting with half a mind to cheat on my girlfriend again. Once my romantic life had gotten so entangled that I didn't know head from ass the fucking Covenant had decided to attack while I had absolutely no weapon at hand other than my own trusty knife. After that I had fought and fought with no armor or decent weapons until I finally got my equipment delivered to me. The rest of it you know…

"Yeah, tough day," I agreed.

Thanks to SilasWhitfield for proofreading this chapter.

Hey, I want to apologize for that silly mistake last chapter where I said Pavel instead of Bee. I'm so used to Frank and Pavel being bash brothers that I accidentally slipped that in. Silas must've missed it too, because otherwise the sentence makes sense. Other than that I've got a question for you guys, a couple of reviewers noted that I made a Mass Effect reference two chapters back, but I can't remember it or even find it (and I looked, trust me). Would you be so kind as to remind me of what I wrote?

Thanks.

Well, this chapter is showcasing everybody back in action. A little bit of badass here and a little bit of badass there. Try to remember the names added to the story. I know that's a tough thing to ask because there are simply too many of them, but some might become important later on or at least minor recurring characters. Say I wouldn't have bothered with even naming Lieutenant Ana Maya if I didn't plan to have her make an appearance ever again. But since I did name her you guys now that she'll probably show up a couple other times before I completely forget about her existence as a character or kill her off in a horribly brutal way.

Or not, who know.

Well, I didn't get a lot of feedback on last chapter, I know it wasn't that great, but I really want to make it to 1000 reviews before this story hits the 1,000,000 word mark. When that happens I'll be sure to thank all of you guys for making this possible, but that is not the time.

As for the ongoing debate (kind of) about Johnson and Boren's and whatnot. Master Chief got attacked by an infection form and ripped it off before it actually had time to take over its mind. I went over that section in the books and did some additional research on Halopedia and other forums before coming to the conclusion that Boren's is a made-up disease. Originally it wasn't intended to be, but there's some additional material (an email conversation between two spies) that shows that Boren's Syndrome was used by ONI to cover up some side effects of the ORION project as well as to hide the fact that Johnson had escaped from a situation that no normal human being could've. Anyways, that's how I'm going to treat that in this story. If you disagree feel free to leave your argument in the form of a review in order to bolster my review count.

So that's that. Thanks for bearing through the story up until this point and for reading this exceptionally long post-chapter thingy. God knows you deserve better than me, but I'm fairly confident that I have improved. Just read the first five chapters and then read this one (don't) and you'll have proof of my improvement as a writer.

Stay strong boys and girls.

-casquis