Chapter CLXXVIII: Pretty Places

May 9, 2549 (UNSC Calendar)/one day later

Sparatus, Paris IV, Paris System

"Pretty places are usually the ones that get hit first. I hate pretty places."– Staff Sergeant Grigori Konstantinov

I jumped off the Pelican right after Miranda. She stumbled slightly and was forced to lean on Sandor to keep from falling down. The poor man almost fell down himself. He had an empty SPANKr clamped to his back and his rifle on his left hand. O'Malley and Zepeda jumped down right after them, helping Caboose down. I could see raw skin through the gap in his armor, and he constantly moaned in pain. I don't know how he hadn't dropped after taking those blasts from the marshal, but he had saved my life for staying afoot.

Andy hopped off the Pelican and removed her helmet. She shook her head and sighed tiredly as she started rubbing the back of her neck. Marvin put his hand on her shoulder and walked on towards the small welcoming committee that had been prepared for us, or more likely, for me.

"Lieutenant," a bulky corporal saluted. "Major Peterson wants to see you."

"I need to see to my men," I told him. "I've got wounded and I've got half a mind to take a nap myself."

"Sir, I'm afraid I must insist."

"Listen you piece of–"

"Frank…" Pavel warned, gently squeezing my shoulder with his oversized hands. "Cool it. I can handle the platoon."

"Fine, fine," I told him before turning back to the corporal. "Lead the way."

"Sir," he nodded, appearing completely unfazed by my sudden outburst and unfinished threat. "This way."

Major Peterson was the kind of man that you would've expected to hit the rank of colonel or higher by his age, but for some reason or other had remained a lowly major. He had a nasty scar going from his right eyebrow and carving through his face down to the left side of his jaw. It looked like it had hurt a lot and left his face in a permanent scowl.

"Sir," I greeted lazily, barely managing a salute.

"What the hell happened back there?" he asked, snapping at us. "We lost all contact."

I shrugged. "They were jamming most long range and broadband frequencies," I explained. "We couldn't even use our own helmets to communicate with one another."

"What the hell happened to Bourne?"

"His bird was shot up."

Peterson sighed and rubbed his temples. "Goddamn, are you the highest-ranking survivor?"

"Yeah, most officers were killed in a bombing run. Bad idea having most of them clustered together like that."

"You don't say…"

I shrugged again. "Will that be all, sir?"

"No. Another Helljumper unit got here half an hour ago."

"Darbinian's unit?"

"Yeah, that was the CO's name. They were supposed to handle Covenant SAM sites to make way for civilian evacuation?"

"Yes, sir," I confirmed. "Did you get any word on the transports?"

Peterson scratched the back of his neck and sat down in a large ammunition crate before looking me over. The eye that his scar crossed drooped slightly, giving his menacing face a darkly humorous look. "Several transports were shot down," he said. "But sixty-seven percentof all refugees made it back to Udinia."

"That's good news," I said. I guess…

"It is," Major Peterson confirmed. "For them, at least. Now that most of the remaining civilians in the planet are located in Udinia it means that the covvies will want to go there."

"I guess we'll just have to pull out before they get there then."

"It isn't that easy Lieutenant," he said. "The Covenant now outnumber us up there, if it wasn't for the defense platforms this rock would be nothing but molten glass now. The problem right now is getting past the enemy ships. They are holding position just outside of the ODP's effective range, far enough to dodge a slug fired at them and close enough to intercept any escaping craft before they are far enough away from the planet to jump. A few dozen proactive civvies have found that out the hard way."

I sighed tiredly. "No way out then?"

"No. But the UNSC doesn't intend to give up Paris IV without a fight. This place is one of the most important colonies out here. It wouldn't do well for us to abandon it without sending as many alien bastards as we can down to hell."

"Yes, sir." I frowned slightly behind my visor and remembered something. "Major, do you have any news on a Spartan unit?"

"Ahhh… I wish, heard that they were in Valern with you."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, they're not there any longer and I'm not important enough to be told where they are going to be deployed. Rumor has it that there is more than one Spartan unit in the planet. Hope it's true, we need all the help we can get."

"Yes, sir. Are there any more questions you need answered? My men are tired and so am I… I would like to see to them before getting some rest."

"Of course Lieutenant," Peterson nodded. "You earned the rest."

I saluted and thanked him. The same corporal that had walked me here led me to the commandeered house that would serve as barracks for me. Sparatus was a mid-sized village that had been abandoned some time ago, a lot of the houses were being used as quarters for Marines and Army. It felt weird, not a single one of this houses presented bullet-holes or battle damage. I figured that it would change soon enough unless we pulled back to Udinia to bolster their defenses, but things were rarely that easy for me.

I walked past my men, noticing that they didn't seem to acknowledge my presence. O'Malley and Zepeda were both staring at a wall with their helmets close to them. They had just lost two more of their friends. Recon Squad had been cut in half. HW unit was probably the most psychologically exhausted, they had been fighting constantly, not daring to stop paying attention to the battlefield because so many lives depended on their machine guns' continuous firing.

My own platoon wasn't faring any better. Sandor was already fast asleep, but Miri and Andrea had haunted looks on their faces while Hoff and Marv kept examining their rifles, going over everything as if they had just forgotten that they had checked them.

I walked upstairs and into a bathroom. I removed my helmet and took a long, hard look at my face. Much of my good, youthful looks were gone. The narcissistic and vain bastard in me reminded me that I was still good-looking and in great shape, but I could see something in my eyes that would scare most people that knew how to look. It scared me.

There was a cut on top of my forehead. It had bled heavily, but the shape of the helmet had sent most of it sideways before it fell down my cheek. My sideburns and beard were caked with dry blood. I pulled down the undersuit to reveal that my neck wound had bled heavily as well. The entire left side of my face and neck were colored in a brownish red.

It didn't hurt much.

I removed the armor on my upper body next. My shoulders were both covered with bruises. They probably came from slamming into cover so hard. I was certain that I had similar bruises on my hips and perhaps on my legs drew my attention was a patch of pink skin right below my collarbone where the plasma rifle had hit. It was tender to the touch but not raw. I could be thankful for that. I gently poked at it, noticing that the closer to the center of the patch of pink I poked the more it hurt.

I rolled my neck experimentally and scratched my beard, trying to get the dry blood off.

Wash your face, trim that beard and girls will be turning their necks to look at you in no time, I thought. Yeah, maybe stop looking so haunted. You've still got your looks Frankie-boy.

"Yeah, Han and Montri had nothing on you," my reflection agreed with me.

I punched the mirror so hard that it shattered. I could hear the tiling behind it crack as my fist went through the mirror. Or perhaps it had been my knuckles.

"Fuck you," I growled at the broken reflection laughing back at me. "Fuck you."

May 22, 2549 (UNSC Calendar)/two weeks later

Sparatus, Paris IV, Paris System

The view was quite nice. The sun was only just beginning to rise and long shadows extended for hundreds of meters. The hill range had a gap on the precise spot where the sun rose. I could stare at the star with only a little bit of polarization on my visor. Lovely sight really, if I focused really hard on it Schitzo and the others would disappear. I had pretty much managed to get this watch shift every day. Climbing to the top of the church tower in the early morning was frustrating, but the sunrise made it worth it, if only to gain a small measure of peace for a couple of minutes.

"Major," I said. "My scout has just confirmed Covenant troops behind the hill range."

"Copy that lieutenant," he replied. "Awaken your men, let's get ready for battle."

He signed off and I turned towards Caboose. Lately he had been even more quiet than usual. I had ordered to come up here today, see if the corny sunrise thing would work for him as well. I wasn't much of a talker when it came to thesethings, and Caboose wasn't much of a talker at all, but O'Malley had come to me to tell me that he had started shifting and muttering in his sleep.

"Caboose, get Zepeda back here," I ordered. "And wake the men."

He nodded and climbed down the ladder, leaving me standing on the top of the tower by myself.

Sparatus had been one of those 'rustic lifestyle' villages. It was supposed to contain minimal technology. No AI to run the city or public transport system. The cars still drove themselves though, it was against the law to remove that function. I don't know how seriously the citizens took that rusting thing, but the appearance of the city itself was very old-fashioned. Andrea had mentioned that it looked like something out of a twentieth-century film and Pavel had agreed, saying that there were a few isolated communities in Poland that looked as if they hadn't changed for five hundred years.

European style village… I had never been to Europe.

I let out a small chuckle. I had been to dozens of planets on this side of the galaxy. I had been on Mars, Reach, Jericho VII, Paris IV, Eden, Skopje, and more. I had fought on moons as well as planets on solar systems with yellow dwarves and red giants for suns, but for some reason I had never been to Europe. Fancy that.

I picked up my canteen and gulped down some water as I leaned back against the railing. From this point I should be one of the first ones to spot any movement coming our way from the north. Zepeda would probably leave behind a few sensors and micro-cameras, at least those would transmit better than nothing. With drones shot down as fast as we could put them in the air and a grand total of zero satellites in orbit we could only rely on our own eyes and ears.

By the time the sun had completed a quarter of its trajectory I had finished my water and felt like it would be wise to take a piss. I could always pee in the corner, but the urine would seep into the wood and it would probably get stinky. I just shrugged it off and tightened my bladder. The moment I spotted Zepeda making his way back into Sparatus I would inform Caboose and Major Peterson, after that I would allow myself to take a nice, long, piss.

Zepeda was a master of two things. Sharpshooting and timing. It became frustrating when he consistently took out elites or brutes just about to gut me, but it was better than him letting them actually go through with it. This time he appeared just after I started thinking that my own bladder would betray me and I would be forced to piss on a church's bell tower.

A few minutes later my bladder was empty and Recon was back to fifty percent capability, the highest it would get until we got reinforcements. If we ever got reinforcements.

The northern end of Sparatus was fortified with trenches, sandbags, barricades and more. The while village had been fortified with several different lines of defense. I do believe that there were more HMGs than Marines in this place. Command had deemed it fit to give us as much equipment as we needed to hold this little town. Sparatus happened to be right in the middle of a large valley. Its location meant that the only road that crossed this valley came through here. If the Covenant wanted to cross the steep range that kept them walled off from Udinia they would have to come from here.

We knew it, they knew it, we all knew it. Now it was just a matter of waiting for them to act first.

"El-tee, Stan says that the covvies are setting up camp," Caboose radioed in. "Don't think they'll attack today."

"Think they want to do an attack-at-dawn kind of thing?" I asked. "Do they even know we're here?"

"Radar hasn't shown anything up there, but you never know."

"Very well then, assume they know we're here and that they attack during the night. Peterson's gonna love this one."

"You can give it to Darbinian, have him deliver the bad news."

I shook my head. "We've lost four men Grigori… he's already lost a third of his company."

"I'd like to blame it on him personally," he replied. "But…"

"Wrong place, wrong time," I agreed. "Nobody's fault but the fucking Covenant."

"Maybe he'll appreciate the chance to deliver some payback."

"I know I do," I said. "Get Recon, you three are specialist support."

"Yes, sir."

I examined the bright sun once more and then looked at the small pass in the hilly range. Soon there would be thousands of covvies flooding from it and we would be in for one helluva battle.

By the time the sun finally set I could just make out the covvie knuckle-draggers beginning to set up fortifications. I couldn't make out anything clearly, the zoom on my scope was only so effective at that range, but it appeared that they wouldn't be moving in on us today. I briefly wondered what their strategy would be? They'd probably send scouts first, if we were lucky we could catch them when the sensors reported their location. If we were very luckywe could extract information on their numbers and support too. On the other hand, they could just swarm us with troops once they decided that this village was in fact occupied. By the time we ran out of ammo the ground would be carpeted with dead aliens, but we would lose this town.

So the question here was if they'd do it slow and smart or fast and stupid. For the first time in my entire life I hoped that the covvies would play this smart, we needed to buy as much time as possible.

We had a strong defensive position and two Scorpion tanks. Major Peterson had called for reinforcements, and Command had dispatched a dozen Tortoise IFVs as well as four Falcon gunships armed with rocket pods. At least that's what Peterson had told me, the additional vehicles hadn't gotten here yet. For now we had the two tanks, some mortars and light artillery pieces, and a few Warthogs and Mongooses. Pretty standard, really. Except for the artillery cannons, but I certainly couldn't complain on that one.

"Frank, the men want to know if they can get some sleep," Pavel came in. "And I want to know if you're ever going to climb down from that fuckin' church tower."

I yawned, the sun was already gone, with only a few orange clouds in the distance witnessing its light.

"Sure," I said. "Have them sleep in shifts, not more than a third of them at a time."

"And you?"

I yawned again. "I think I'll sleep here," I told him. "Wide enough for me to lay down. Good night."

"Good night," Pavel grunted. He was probably a little resentful that I would be sleeping for the whole night while he only got a few hours worth of rest. "You fuck."

Yep, definitely resentful.

I was awakened by the sound of engines. I shut my eyes even tighter and then fell back asleep. It was probably the Tortoises.

Some time later it was a sniper rifle. One could forget the sheer amount of noise that the SRS made, but it was pretty hard to forget the sound it made. My eyes snapped open immediately. I might've decided to go back to sleep, but if we were within small arms range it meant trouble. I stood up and grabbed my rifle, looking in the direction of the Covenant.

"Whoa," I muttered. That was a shitload of aliens.

"Pavel, who'd they shoot?"

"Ultra, walking right down the middle of the road. Damn idiot." He chuckled. "Good to have you back in the realm of the living. Tortoises and Falcon gunships are here. I'm glad for the support, but now they have confirmation that we're here."

I yawned as I examined the attack force. It was a pretty large unit; infantry and armored support as well as a few Ghosts to act as fast-attack units and scouts. It was not an overwhelming force, but it was still a tough cookie.

"Front line will take the brunt of the assault, direct mortar fire. We keep the Scorpions and Tortoises hanging back until we absolutely need them. Falcons will provide limited air support," I said, mostly going over the contingency plan in my head. "Pavel, you're in charge of the platoon, but I want you to send Miranda and Hoff my way."

"Understood," he grunted. "Stan?"

"Nah, Zepeda will come here when he needs to. And Pavel…"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful out there. We've already lost too many men."

"Yes, sir."

I half-expected the Covenant to start off as they always did; sending a bunch of grunts to their deaths in order to make us run low on ammunition. Instead of doing that they started out strong. They targeted two houses with fuel rod cannons and then bombarded the area around those with Wraiths. A couple of men must've died in the barrage, nothing too serious, but the covvies wanted a place where they could go through. They had succeeded in getting everyone out of that little area and their infantry was beginning to run towards it, their attack spearheaded by Ghosts.

"Here we go," I muttered.

A few mortars landed amongst the covvies, sending limbs flying in all directions, but their attack had been well planned. The troops got to the bombed out section of the village and prepared to bunker down. Now the only thing left to do was kill them faster than they could throw themselves at us.

I took a deep breath and steadied my rifle against the railing of the tower. I had a beautiful shooting spot and I wasn't about to let it go to waste. I started with the elites, mostly minors, but I had seen a few flashes of red armor. I mostly focused on elites on the front, the ones with drained shields. When Miri and Hoff arrived I became a lot more effective. They'd lower the shields on an elite and I'd cap it off with a burst to the head. It was a useful strategy and hard to counter. The first shots that they fired would stun the elite just long enough for me to kill it. I racked up eight kills in the first few minutes alone, but it didn't take them long to figure out where the shots were coming from.

I ducked behind cover as a few carbine rounds flew past me. So far it seemed like no sharpshooters had been sent with the initial attack force, but the elites were good shots in their own right.

"Do we move?" Miranda asked, reloading her weapon. "Sir?"

I shook my head. "There's a small window halfway down the tower. I want one of you to see if they can spot elites carrying long rifles and relay their location to Zepeda and Pavel."

Miranda and Hoff looked at each other.

"My leg's kind of artificial," Hoff said.

Miranda sighed. "I'll go."

She disappeared down the hatch, off to look for the elites that would be most dangerous to us.

"How you doing?" I asked Hoff.

He shrugged while checking his DMR. "Jaw hurts a lot less. I can talk normally now."

I chuckled. "No more caveman speech?"

Hoff nodded. "I was starting to get tired of Andy asking if all jocks spoke like this."

"It was a pretty clever joke," I said.

"From your point of view…"

"Indeed," I admitted. "Did your family finally make it off planet?"

He shook his head. "They were scheduled to leave last week, but increased Covenant naval activity kept their ship grounded. Now we're waiting for the next breach in their blockade."

"I'm sorry man," I said, "but I'm sure they'll turn out just fine as long as the pilot doesn't decide to leave without the UNSC's permission."

"Yeah, I talked to them about that. There are lots of desperate civilians nowadays, trying to get out as fast as possible."

"M-hm," I mumbled. "How are they doing?"

"Scared, I guess." He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "When they got the news that home had been glassed they took it pretty hard. I mean, the place where you've lived your whole life… gone just like that."

"I know what it feels like," I told him. "I never liked Camp Afghan, but losing Jericho VII was still pretty hard. It still hurts sometimes…"

"Great, I'll probably never get over this."

"Probably," I said. "I'm a tougher man than you are."

"Of course, sir," Hoff replied good-naturedly, although the sarcasm in his voice was so thick that you could taste it. "The toughest."

"And don't you forget it," I said firmly. "But seriously Ryan. When we make it out of here it'll be tough. Don't be afraid to ask for help."

"Look at me, I was once the most promising quarterback in this side of the galaxy and now I'm a Helljumper with a bunch of mental health issues in the brewing."

"You're one of the saner ones," I told him. "Trust me."

"You would know, eh?" he asked jokingly. "You've served longer than anybody. Hell, you've been an ODST longer than Captain Hayes."

"Yes, but she was in the Corps before I was even legally allowed to enlist. Tough bitch, that one."

"Tell me about it, ever hear that story ab–"

"The one where she led her team through a flooded city occupied by the Covenant in order to call in precision orbital strikes?"

"Actually, I was going to say the one where her unit did a blind jump on this stormy planet. I think they barely had enough oxygen for three hours and they had to clear a research facility before the covvies acquired some information on the system's defenses."

"I heard she only had two hours," I said. "As I said, tough bitch."

"Sir, can I ask a question?"

"You just did," I told him. "Go ahead."

"What's it with you and her?"

"What do you mean PFC?"

Hoff stretched one of his legs, the good one. "You don't have to be a behavioral psychologist to know that you two don't like each other."

"It's a long story, Hoff," I said. "One that I would rather not go over again. Let's just say that I deserve it… mostly."

"All right then," he said. "You didn't fuck her, did you?"

I slapped him in the back of the head. "'Course not."

"Good. But if you had my respect for you would be a lot more."

I slapped him again, harder.

"Hey! I was joking!"

Miranda climbed up and looked at us weird for a moment before she sat down, her feet hanging by the hatch.

"Yeah?" I asked her.

"Oh, of course. S-sorry."

I rolled my eyes. Please don't start stuttering again. It took you years to get over that.

Miri cleared her throat. "Sorry. Gunny Klaus said that he'll prioritize elites with rifles and carbines. Staff Konstantinov already had Stan target those. I think a few of the Marines started gunning for the marksmen too. Major Peterson said that it was in everybody's best interests to keep superiority in the long-range department."

"I'd like to have superiority in a lot other departments," I muttered.

"Tell me about it," Hoff agreed. "Miri, did you spot any sharpshooters?"

"Two," she said. "They're both dead now."

"All right, let's get back to business then," I said. "Battle's still going on, you know?"

"Yes, sir!"

We settled back into a routine. Gunning down elites or fuel rod toting grunts. It felt comfortable. We all knew how each of us operated and had done this countless times before. They'd take out the shields and I'd finish them. Shields, headshot and repeat. If this wasn't a matter of life and death I would've said that it was fun. Almost.

"I'm halfway down," Miranda announced.

"Yeah, same here," Hoff said.

"All right, two more elites and you get to make an ammo run."

The first one we capped after that was attempting to flush out a group of Marines. It kept firing at them and trying to lob a grenade behind them, but the range was extreme even for the alien. After two explosives landed a few feet short of the intended target the elite decided to move closer and try again. We already had it in our sights, but it was behind cover. When it decided to move up we took it out quickly and efficiently, saving those Marines and allowing them to push back the covvies in the area.

The second hingehead we killed was simpler. The elite decided that it would risk going across open ground in order to get to a position that would allow it to flank a machine gun nest that kept a large portion of the Covenant forces from moving up without risking massive casualties. About halfway through it fell to the ground, dead. Hoff fired six times in quick succession, killing the grunts behind it with a beautiful set of headshots. When his gun clicked empty Miri took out the last two grunts.

"Nice work," I commended. "Hoff, you get to make the ammo run. Bring a crate with mags for both your rifles and my BR55, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

Hoff made a show of being careful when he climbed down, as if his leg still hurt him. He hurried it up when I made as if I was going to kick his face. I was certain that he would've been one of those diva quarterbacks had he gone pro, but it would've been better that he did, otherwise he would have a whole leg and a perfectly healthy jaw. Maybe a bad knee or something, but it certainly beat this.

An explosion resonated as if to emphasize my thoughts.

"So, Miranda, now we get to chat?"

"Ummm, about what?" she asked, sounding confused. "Sir."

I laughed softly. "Whatever you want to talk about Miranda, I'm bored and this might be the last chance for a normal conversation."

"You do realize that we're in the middle of a battle, sir?" she asked.

"Low intensity," I replied. "For us at least. We've got time."

Miranda shrugged. "Sure, I guess… Back in Udinia, why'd you make so many trips to the refugee camp?"

My heart skipped a bit. "Alright, anything you want except for that," I told her, trying to get Katie off my mind. With her came a flooding of guilt and a strange sense of pleasure. I needed a doctor. "Let's talk about you then."

"Deflecting the question… very suspicious, sir."

I groaned inwardly. "I was just wondering how you've been feeling. You're a far cry from that trembling little girl that first came to my squad."

"War changes people," she replied simply. "And I didn't tremble."

"You did," I assured her. "I don't know if you were a nervous wreck or just naturally shy, but you trembled."

"Fine," she muttered. "I was quiet–"

"Still are…"

"And maybe I had trouble maintaining eye contact–"

"Still do…"

"Sir," she said in that way women do when they're giving you a final warning.

"Sorry," I apologized, smiling. "Go on."

"But I did not tremble," she finished.

I suddenly roared and made wild noises as I flayed my arms and legs wildly. Miranda squeaked and squealed, jumping away from me. I started laughing loudly at her reaction and Miri indignantly sniffed before settling back into a more dignified position.

"I thought you didn't tremble."

"And I thought people in their mid-thirties were more mature than the average pre-pubescent child," she grumbled. "Sir."

"I'm sorry," I replied. "Glad to see that the war hasn't changed you that much. Honestly though, I don't want you to become cold and detached like Grigori or myself."

"Staff Konstantinov is cold, but I don't know about detached… He's been doing his best to hide it, but you can tell that he's hurt by the loss of half his squad."

I frowned slightly. I hadn't noticed that.

"You sure?" I asked. "Grigori's a tough man. He's gone through a lot of shit and is still functional."

Miranda nodded slowly. "He worked with those guys every day for the past year, half that time they were fighting. They were his men, only a sociopath wouldn't feel anything."

"Only a sociopath, huh?" I asked, wondering whether I fit the description. It had hurt when Montri and Han had died, but I remembered the moment clearly and the only thing I remember feeling at the time was a whole lot of anger. Even now I wasn't too bothered by their loss. Sure they were in my nightmares, but those nightmares had been going on for a long time before they became guests.

"Figure of speech," Miri went on. "But you might want to check into that, have him talk to someone."

"I will," I said. "Maybe I'll talk to someone myself."

"With all due respect, sir, you're a wreck. I don't know how much good it'll do talking to someone."

"I'm the wreck? I didn't just jump halfway across the room at a friendly joke."

"Whatever you say, sir," Miranda replied with a shrug. She really had come a long way since I first met her.

Hoff climbed back up a short time later. He had two ammunition crates underneath his arms. He brought one and a half crate's worth of magazines for himself and Miranda and filled the other half with magazines for my BR55HB SR. The ammunition would hold for at least four more hours if we kept the same pace we had for the last hour or so.

"Ok, let's go," I ordered.

The sun was behind us now, giving us a definitive advantage. It was at an angle that would provoke glare on anybody that looked into the church tower from ground level. My little team and I didn't let that advantage go to waste. For as long as we dared we kept firing at enemy targets. Grunts mostly, but a few elites went down too. By the time the sun had descended some more we had each killed about twenty aliens. No wonder marksmen tended to have the highest kill-counts during urban engagements.

"They're stopping reinforcement runs," Major Peterson came in, "but they've got a firm hold on the town."

"We can push them out, sir," Darbinian suggested.

"Yes, but there'd be way too many casualties on our side. Those four houses have excellent coverage of the area around them. Soon as they try again tomorrow I'll deploy the Falcons, strafe their positions and see if we can take out as many as possible."

"Understood," Darbinian acknowledged reluctantly.

"Sir, what about the tanks?" I asked.

"They're still hidden, they don't know we have them and I intend to keep it that way for as long as possible," he replied. "Lieutenant, your platoon held the line out there, congratulate them for me."

"I will, major."

"And you too, lieutenant. Your sniper coverage was invaluable."

I smiled despite myself. "Thank you, sir. We'll make sure to deliver the same service come tomorrow."

"You'd better. I'm calling command. This was just the enemy's vanguard and there are thousands of soldiers behind those hills. This valley is the perfect location to bog down their advance, if I can persuade the higher-ups down in Udinia to send a regiment or two up here we might buy enough time to evacuate every last civilian."

"Hope they listen, sir."

"As do I, but right now I'd settle for a battalion right now, maybe an armored company too."

"Don't set your expectations too high, sir," I joked. "You know what they say."

"Yeah, yeah. Get some rest and tell your men to pull back, I'm sending another platoon to get them some rest."

"All right then," I said. "Thank you Major."

"No problem. Peterson out."

I immediately opened a line to my platoon and told them the good news. There was an appropriate degree of cheering in reply and they fell back further into the village to safety. There they'd go back to sleep.

"Miri, Hoff, flip for night watch," I told them. "One of you gets to sleep here like a pigeon. Good night."

"Sir…" Miranda began. "Never mind."

"Heads or tails?" Hoff asked.

"You know, most people say flats or numbers nowadays," Miranda told him. "You know that, don't you?"

"Shit, you're starting to sound like Andrea," Hoff complained. "The last thing I need is two of them."

"Oh really, and would that be…"

The conversation faded away as I climbed down the tower. There were a few bullet holes here and there that had punctured the walls. Well, perhaps carbine holes would be more precise, but calling them that sounds unusual. I made my way down at a leisurely pace and on towards the two houses that my platoon was occupying. On the way there I crossed a patrol of ODSTs from Darbinian's unit, but they didn't seem to pay me much mind. They had all seen the ass whooping that I had delivered back in Caradhras.

"Frank, good of you to join us," Pavel greeted. "You know, your men would appreciate it if you shared the risks a little more."

"I was lessening the risks," I reminded him. "And I think they're all smart enough to realize that. I got more than a few thank yous."

"Yeah, yeah," he waved me away. "Whatever. Anyways, you alright?"

"Yup, you?"

"Yah, nothing I can't deal with. Few scratches."

"Was anybody hurt?" I asked. "Seriously, I mean."

"No, a couple of minor burns, nothing that lessens combat performance."

"Good, good. Everybody gets to rest, nobody has to take watch."

"Thank God," Pavel sighed, turning around to go into his room.

"Hey Pavs," I stopped him. "Tell Amber and Lavvie that I miss them will ya?"

He raised his datapad and smiled. "I'll be sure to tell them, but the transmission probably won't get there until–"

"I know, Pavel." I shook my head. "Just, don't make it too long, all right? You need some rest too."

Pavel laughed. "I can never make a message too long Frank, they are my family." With those words he disappeared through a door.

"Family," I echoed, as if saying the word for the first time.

I looked around me to see the men of my platoon talking to one another. They were all tired, that much was clear, but I could also tell that they were happy. They had all done a great job at holding back the enemy penetration attempts and were no worse for wear. A few of Pavel's men laughed raucously at some joke that I missed and Andrea talked animatedly to Marvin while Sandor moved around with the look of someone who's up to no good. I pulled out the chocolate bar that Pavel had given me and took a healthy bite, smiling as I looked at my men.

My dad was dead, my mom wasn't ever going to recover, and my brother was certainly making himself a nuisance to someone. My uncle was dead too. They had been my family for the first years of my life and now they were all gone. Now these men and women right here, some I had known for as long as I had been a soldier and others I had barely talked to in the last year, but I knew them. I knew that I cared about them and would give anything for them. They were my family.

Maybe I wasn't a sociopath after all.

"One hell of a family," Schitzo mused, sounding slightly less annoying than usual.

"And I wouldn't trade it for the world," I replied, smiling widely.

Thanks to SpartaLazor and defarcher for proofreading this chapter.

That's how you do character development during a battle ladies and gentlemen, take the focus away from the battle itself and instead focus on the people fighting it. I should do it more often. Well, whether it was well done or not I hope that it did give a little bit of insight into some of the characters in this story. Reaper was a small unit, with only eight men (at first). Eight characters are relatively easy to develop in a story as long as this one, but once you move into a unit as big as a platoon it gets hard to spread around the focus amongst so many characters. Band of Brothers did this and they managed to do it awesomely, but sometimes it still felt like some of the characters deserved more screen time. Sadly, I could not call the producers (I was like eight) and tell them to give us more of Lt. Speirs or whoever, but you guys can always tell me who you feel deserves more 'screen time.' Of course, as the party dwindles it means that there are less ODSTs to spread the attention around.

On a different note, I'd like to recommend my readers to check out some of Obsidion Production's fics. He's got several stories in the site, some of them are quite good. You might have seen The Rookie Chronicles on the Halo story menu. They're a bit different than what you'd expect, but that doesn't make them any less great. They are masterfully written and deeply entertaining, but for some reason or other lack the attention they deserve, be sure to check it out.

Now, to address some of your reviews: Hanna and Katie will get their attention in due time, so will Johnson and Tartarus and the badass elite for that matter. Frank's brother will appear eventually and with his appearance... well, I'll keep that a secret for now. The reactions to last chapter were good to say the least, I'm glad you enjoyed it. To SpootinLaza, I forgot to address your review last chapter, but I'm glad that I could help in any way, whether small or large.

Stay strong.

-casquis