Chapter CLXXX: ...Then There was Knives
May 26, 2549 (UNSC Calendar)/
Sparatus, Paris IV, Paris System
"Outgunned and outnumbered, but never outskilled."– Second Lieutenant Francisco Castillo
Even with the treads moving as slow as they were, the engines on the APCs were still uncomfortably loud. I could hear them even inside the building. It was probably due to the number of missing walls and sections of ceiling, but to me it still sounded like a thunderstorm. In fact, when I heard it I woke with a start. Ramirez shook when he heard it and reached for his SAW before recognizing the sound.
"Sir?" he whispered.
"Wake Andy and Sandor," I replied, equally quiet. "Gently."
I calmly stretched my arms and stood up. My head spun as soon as I did that, but I promptly steadied myself against a wall. "Abri, you napping?"
"I'm here sir," she whispered despite her helmet. "Found myself a nice little spot. What was that sound?"
"The APCs, I told her. Might be evac."
"Got it, should I come down?"
I thought about it for a second. "Not yet, but be ready to."
Marvin walked through the door just as Andy helped Sandor up to his feet. He looked at all of us and placed Sandor's shotgun next to the door. "Sir, there are three Tortoises right around the corner."
"We heard them," Ramirez said. "That means the covvies probably did too."
I nodded in agreement. "Abri, warn me if you see any movement on the Covenant side."
"Yes, sir," she replied.
"Lieutenant Castillo," my helmet radio crackled. "Lieutenant, are you there?"
"This is Castillo, I copy Hammer Two-One."
"Good," the commander of the lead Tortoise grunted. "My own girl as well as Two-Two and Two-Three are here to help evacuate the street."
"Evacuate?" I asked. "That bad?"
"Yes, sir. Aerial recon shows mobilization of Ghosts and heavy weaponry behind that line of houses. The major believes that an attack is coming soon. Sir, the two other Tortoises will move up, guns blazing and tear down as many houses as they can manage as my own girl moves up to your location. I understand you have wounded?"
"Yes."
"Very well, I need you to make it quick sir, I don't want to stay in a place for too long."
"Got it, shouldn't be a problem. The rest of the Marines?"
"They have their own houses for cover, my Tortoises will just curb off any attempt to rush across the street and take advantage of our retreat."
I sighed. "Thanks Two-One," I said. "Ready when you are."
"Just a bit longer," he told me. "I'll let you know."
I started getting that sense of anticipation as soon as he cut the line. My first combat jump had been an emergency evacuation from a damaged ship in a trajectory to crash-land on a UNSC planet. I didn't have time to feel nervous then, but I always did get slightly nervous when we were about to start something big.
"Abri, get over here," I ordered after a couple of minutes. "Quietly."
"Yes, sir."
All of us were on either side of the main entrance. Sandor was leaning against the wall and Marvin kept near him for when we needed to run through the parking lot. Andrea was also there, waiting in case she needed to help with our injured squad member. On the other side I stood with Ramirez and O'Malley. Ramirez was every bit as tall as I was and with shoulders almost as broad as Pavel's, but the huge M739 SAW he carried. A foot longer and three times as heavy as my battle rifle, the machine gun was a fearsome weapon befitting a fearsome man. Ramirez certainly fit the stereotype down to a t.
On the other hand, O'Malley was shorter and not nearly as bulky. Unlike Andrea or Miranda she didn't have a curvaceous figure, but was instead skinny and wiry. I knew better than to be fooled by her appearance, she could give as good as she got in the fighting mats and was good enough to have survived so far in this unit. She was far too young to be a veteran of so many battles.
"We're coming," Two-One said.
The roaring of the engines rattled the crumbling building and the three Tortoises streaked past the windows. One of them veered off towards us while the other two turned the corner and strafed the brick and wooden houses. It came to my attention that they were only part of a major action, similar noises echoed all through Sparatus as more IFVs, APCs, and tanks fired on Covenant positions in order to cover our retreat.
Two-One turned and slammed into the broken doors in reverse at full speed. I cursed as bricks flew backwards, raising dust and impeding my vision. The rear hatch doors of the Tortoise APC opened and a man in a round tanker helmet appeared, holding an M7 SMG on one hand.
"Get in!" he said.
"Go, go, go!" I ordered. "Let's move!"
Marv dragged a complaining Sandor inside the APC and sat him down. I was last to go in, but the tanker stopped me.
"I was told there were M41s here," he told me.
"Fuck," I cursed. "Come with me."
Both of us ran upstairs to grab the missile launchers and the remaining ammunition. I slung my BR55HB over my shoulder and grabbed one launcher with either hand, huffing with the effort from carrying it. The tanker slung one loaded launcher over his back and grabbed four boxes of rockets. As he climbed down he asked me whether there was more ammunition for the SPANKr missile launchers.
"Three more boxes," I replied.
"We really ought to get those," he grunted. "These are our only defense against the Wraiths."
"Ramirez, get the rest of the ammunition boxes," I ordered through the radio. "And bring one of the SPANKrs if you can!"
"Yes, sir!"
He passed us on the stairs, running up as fast as he could. We loaded up the equipment inside the Tortoise and waited for Ramirez to come tumbling down the stairs with not three but four boxes of missiles in addition to a launcher.
"It was hidden under a piece of ceiling," he explained as he half-fell, half-walked inside the Tortoise.
"We're ready, let's move," the tanker said to the commander of this Tortoise. "Let's go!"
The Tortoise moved forward as soon as we closed the hatch. O'Malley kicked at the launchers and boxes of ammunition with her feet to make more legroom. The point was moot; the Tortoises were notorious for being even more cramped than Armadillos. I had to sandwich my legs with Ramirez and his knee felt awfully close to my groin. The racks over my head were usually filled with spare ammunition for the APCs autocannons or for the troops that were deployed by APC. Right now they had some repair equipment and empty ammunition boxes. I should've shoved a few of the missile boxes there before, now the little comfort that we had was hampered by all the piled M41s.
"Fucking cramped," Sandor complained in his usual eloquent manner.
As the Tortoise moved a few rounds pinged off the armor, making a dull thudding noise as they did so. I tightened my harness as the vehicle turned in a tight turn, the machine gun and autocannon hammering away at Covenant targets of opportunity. I felt slightly useless here, not being able to do anything.
For once in my life I didn't mind. I knew that I wouldn't' have been able to survive a barrage of small-arms fire that this armored vehicle was merely shrugging off.
"We're stopping," the driver called out. "Dismount!"
I opened the hatch and piled out into an area bustling with activity. Marines were preparing to face the likely counterattack by the Covenant. As soon as our armored vehicles stopped firing the covvies would fire back and their spirits would only increase when they realized that our infantry had pulled back with the tanks. Machine guns were placed in strategic locations and men aimed down the streets. Last I passed through here there hadn't been a single sandbag; now there was a massive fortress of sandbags, armored plates, and abandoned vehicles.
"Frank!" Pavel called out to me. "Haven't seen you in three days now."
"Sorry man," I told him as I walked towards him. "Andrea get Sandor to a surgeon."
"But El-tee–" Sandor complained.
"But nothing!" I cut him off. "A doctor will remove any shrapnel and you'll be ready to fight by tomorrow."
"Yes, sir," he said reluctantly.
Pavel led me to a lavish house four stories high with tall windows and balconies. "The platoon is here," he said as he walked. "The men are tired but ready."
"Injuries?"
"Nothing serious, scratches and bruises. Carver was nicked on the hand, hurts like a bitch apparently."
"As long as he can use that grenade launcher of his."
"Don't worry about me, sir," the man in question shouted over from the second floor.
"Whatever you say Carver," I shouted back. "Pavel, I was cut off, what's the plan here?"
"Not much of a plan, Major Peterson expects that the strongest attack will come through this area so he places us here. He promised three Tortoises but apparently could only muster two."
"There were three," I muttered under my breath. "Damn."
Pavel shrugged. "They're usually priority targets for the covvies, it's our job to take care of that."
"All right then," I said. "We set our sharpshooters to hunt other snipers and be on the lookout for heavy weapons while the rest provide support and hold back any advance attempts."
"The usual," Pavel said with a shrug. "You know, sometimes I think we should have more of those crazy missions."
I nodded in agreement. "It all gets boring sometimes, doesn't it? Fighting the same battle in different places. Outgunned and outnumbered but never outskilled."
"Then we have to pull back because those fuckers happen to have bigger spaceships," Pavel said. "Rinse and repeat."
I chuckled. "Well, at least we switch it up a little sometimes. Remember when I airdropped with a tank?"
"How could I forget," he laughed. "With Bee's song blaring on all our speakers."
"That time we jumped out of the falling corvette," I said. "That one was pretty crazy too."
"There was also that fancy-ass elite in Jericho-VII. Remember that guy?"
"How could I forget?" I asked him. "I still have the scars on my back."
He nodded. "You know, pulling the trigger on that bastard has been some of the most pleasant experiences in my whole life."
"I can relate to that," I told him, slapping his back. "But you might not want to tell Amber that, she might just cut your balls off."
"Agreed, that woman's a pistol."
Pavel's wife was indeed what you would call a strong-spirited woman. She managed to keep Pavel in check while at the same time made a livelihood and raised a little girl by herself for up to six months at a time. This deployment had been a lot longer than usual, but we had the blockade to blame for that.
Pavel's mood turned grim at the mention of his wife.
"Have you gotten word from her?"
"No," he replied. "I've sent messages and I know she makes vid messages at least twice a week. If wireless traffic isn't getting through…"
"She knows you're fine mate," I told him, "after all, if you stick with me you'll have no probem."
"No problem?" he asked me raising an eyebrow.
I chuckled. "Well, you might get out with a scratch or two, but you'll get out. That's the way it's been since we met."
"You're my bad luck charm," Pavel assured me. "And I just don't know whether I'd be better off without you."
"But you're too scared to try," I said.
"Look at you," Schitzo huffed. "Three days without talking to one another and you get all teary eyed and girly when you meet. Might want to kiss him."
I dismissed his presence.
As Pavel and I walked up the circular staircase the men had gathered behind us. Apparently they were listening in on the conversation, because the moment I turned they did an excellent job of looking like meek children that had been scolded for stealing candy. A few of my men even looked down at their feet when Pavel and I turned. Out of my platoon of twenty men four had been killed. Only sixteen of us remained, and it didn't appear like all of us would make it out of here, not with a Covenant army knocking on our door.
With Zepeda in the church tower and Sandor with the doctor my group looked even sorrier than it was.
Hoff finally broke the silence. "You airdropped with a tank?" he asked incredulously. "How does that even work?"
"Parachutes kid," I told him.
"Lots of parachutes," Caboose added. He had been there where it happened, even if he hadn't been in the middle of it.
I could still see the snow rushing to meet the tank and me if I closed my eyes and thought about it.
"Why do I feel like we know nothing about you, El-tee?" PFC d'Arc asked me, fiddling with her SAW.
"Because you don't," I replied simply. "Now, do you want another story before you go to bed?"
"Positions!" Pavel shouted hoarsely. "What the fuck do you think you're doing standing there like idiots? Move before I shoot you!"
The platoon dispersed at what must've been relativistic speeds and everybody took positions in the windows or rooftops. Ammunition boxes were spread out all throughout the large house, with grenades here and there to complement our weaponry.
Pavel and I laughed as the men ran at our orders and I slapped his back with a smile. "Good to see you again."
"Likewise," he told me.
A nearby explosion rocked the building.
"Get ready," I told him, grabbing his forearm firmly. "Stay safe."
"Safe? That stopped being an option a long time ago," he replied.
With those wise words he climbed downstairs and disappeared to coordinate the machine guns.
"Sounds bad," Schitzo said, fear creeping into his usually calm voice. "Sounds very bad."
I remember this one time Bee showed us a movie from the early twenty-first. It was a fantasy film, but I don't remember its name. I do remember that it had been a thoroughly enjoyable series of films. But I'm going off on a tangent here. A character had mentioned something about a red sunrise meaning that blood had been shed during the night. I recall it vividly because everybody laughed at the corny phrase at the time, especially when it came from a guy in long blonde hair that looked as soft as a girl's.
The sun rose and it was indeed red. I had never seen a sunrise like that in my entire life, not in Reach, not in Mars, not in Jericho-VII or even Earth. On another occasion I might've dismissed it as a trick of the light or simply the color of the star itself, but for the last few days I had woken with the purpose to see the sunrise. The sun was no different than Epsilon Eridani as seen from Reach. Perfectly round and yellow if a little orange when it rose and when it set.
Now its blood red color mirrored the events that had transpired during the night and were still going on.
I looked at my empty pistol and considered tossing it aside before sighing and releasing the slide and shoving into my holster angrily. The dead elite at my feet had taken at least twenty bullets from Miranda and myself to be brought down and then another one to the head. That last bullet had been my last M6 bullet. The pistol was now nothing but a fancy paperweight.
"And I'm out," I said. "Miri?"
She released the magazine on her pistol and pulled back the slide, catching the ejected bullet before it fell to the floor. She shoved the bullet into the magazine with one hand and counted them. "I've got seven rounds."
"And your DMR?"
"Four plus fifteen."
I looked at the ammo counter on my rifle. "Thirty-three."
"This isn't good, sir," Miranda said, her voice strained. "Not good at all."
I nodded. "Get back up, don't shoot unless absolutely necessary, ok?"
"No grunts, no jackals, just elites."
"That's a girl," I said. "Make sure Hoff observes firing discipline."
"Yes, sir."
I kicked the elite in the head as Miranda left and climbed back upstairs. I could barely make myself get up to the third floor before a fuel rod explosion blew up half a wall.
"Sasha!"
"I'm fine," the man in question replied.
"Everyone alright?" I asked, waving the dust away from my face. "Anybody hurt?"
"Holy shit! Sarah!"
PFC Sutton approached a pile of rubble on the ground and pulled off a piece of wall from d'Arc. She been blown across the room by the concussive force and most of the rubble landed on top of her.
"Sutton, give me her status."
"She's alive, sir," the medic replied, checking her for wounds. "But it's not good, spinal injuries likely."
"Fuck, can you move her?"
"At this point I think that either she'll walk or she won't."
I considered it for a second. "Damn it, get her to safety."
"Yes, sir!"
Sutton lifted the unconscious woman from the ground and I winced involuntarily as I saw the twisted angle of her arm and the steel bar that impaled her from the top of the belly and through to the middle of the back. Being that close to the explosion, it was a miracle she was still alive.
"Clear the room," I ordered. "Now!"
"Hold up, sir," Dotsenko said, aiming down the hole in the wall. "Got the bastard."
The man fired a quick, short burst and then hollered as he hit his target.
"Dotsenko!" I shouted. "Clear the room!"
He ran back just in time to avoid a single green carbine round that would've gone straight through his helmet. As he ran past the door I stopped him, holding him by the collar. "When I order you to do something, I expect you to do it immediately."
"Sir, it hurt my friend, it might've damn well killed her."
"Well tough shit," I replied angrily. "The last thing I need is two men down instead of just one, and you nearly got yourself killed."
"Sir, I-"
Suddenly Pavel was at my shoulder.
"Sasha, we all care for Sarah, but you can't lose it now. We've got to keep it together."
"Sarge, we're down to our last magazine and our sidearms are pretty much empty too! You saw Sarah, half of us have injuries that would have us on a hospital if we had access to one, the left flank is all but collapsed, our air support had gone off to help who knows what and the Marines have taken over fifty percent casualties. How the hell can you tell me–"
Pavel chose that moment to clock him in the helmet. Dotsenko was cut off mid-sentence by the punch and fell against the door. I pulled him back and shook him around before letting go of him.
"Keep. It. Together."
Dotsenko shook his head. "Yes, sir. Sorry sir." He turned to Pavel. "Thank you Sarge."
"Any time," Pavel told him. "Don't you have a place to be?"
"Yes, Gunnery Sergeant!"
I sighed when Sasha disappeared through another door. "Damn."
"He'll be fine," Pavel assured me. "Sarah…"
"She's a tough girl," I told him. "She'll pull through."
"Even the toughest fall Frank."
"And they are the ones that fall the hardest," Schitzo whispered in my ear.
"Keep them in check," I told him, heading back for the stairs. "The Covenant don't have infinite ammo Pavel, they're at least as bad as we are, that fuel rod was their last."
"We don't know that Frank," he grunted. "Sasha might've killed whoever fired, but there might be more."
"There better not. You saw what they did to those Tortoises."
"Yeah, I saw," I snapped. I had gone on without sleep for longer stretches of time, but I hadn't had to fight a battle of such intensity and ferocity for such an extended period of time. A human body, enhanced or not, could only take so much.
"We need to stay cool," Pavel said slowly.
"Yeah, yeah," I dismissed him. "I know… Back to your men."
"Yes, sir," he told me nodding and hefting his M247L.
"And Pavel…"
"Yeah?"
"Tell them to fix bayonets."
He nodded grimly and climbed downstairs.
I made myself climb back to the fourth floor and then to the attic. There was a tiny little window up there, useful for nothing except to be looked at from the outside. It was only large enough to fit your head through, but it provided a very good view of the street in front of us. I tried to keep my firing to a minimum, but the beginning of the battle had drained our ammunition reserves before we realized that this might last longer than just a few hours.
"Sir," Marvin greeted me. "I heard the explosion."
I nodded. "D'Arc was hurt. It's bad."
"Damn," he murmured. "We can't take much more of this."
"The ammunition situation is the same all throughout what's left of our lines. Peterson requested additional reinforcements from Udinia, but I don't know what he was told."
"We can't take much more of this," he repeated, checking a magazine for ammo. "But then again, neither can they."
I nodded and started looking through the window, careful to hang back in case a jackal saw me peeking. The houses had been damaged before, but now most of them were flattened to the ground from the continuous Wraith strikes and plasma grenades. The covvies had treated us like shit during those first couple of hours, but when we managed to coordinate an effective defense we returned the favor and managed to destroy most of their armored support as well as their air support. It had cost us our rockets and most of the ammunition on the Tortoises. Then the covvies had taken out the APCs in retaliation with shoulder-mounted weaponry. Then we killed the bearers of the fuel rods and the Covenant rushed the house that had killed the most. After every Marine inside was dead we in turn made sure that the Covenant couldn't return to the safety of their lines. It became sort of a cycle of revenge, Dotsenko's latest insubordination was only the latest example.
"I see an elite," I said absent-mindedly. "Two plasma rifles plus one strapped on its thighs."
"I call that overkill," Marv said.
"I call that low ammo, pirates used to carry several pistols back in the day."
"Sea pirates, isn't that a thing," Marvin chuckled. "It seems so… antiquated."
"Agreed." I traced the elite with my scope, zeroing on his head. "Why'd they give him three weapons?"
"Maybe he's on a mission."
"That's what I'm afraid of, but it's wearing blue armor."
"Does it fit?" Marv asked.
"What?"
"Does it fit? If it fits perfectly then it's probably just an attempt to get us to waste ammunition on a minor target."
"Only a hingehead would think this honorable."
"If it doesn't fit it might be a more skilled elite disguising itself."
I looked back at Marv. "Huh." I looked back through my scope. "Armor seems a little loose."
"Your call, sir."
The elite moved carefully, with the look of someone who knew that he was being watched. Despite that it didn't appear too frightened. I wasn't an expert on alien behavior, but I could tell whenever an elite was angry or a jackal frustrated. Hell, my livelihood depended on it.
The elite had what to me seemed like a look of determination.
"This one's on you Marv."
I fired three bursts at the elites head, clicking the trigger three times in one second. The shields flickered and died after the third burst. Before the shields failed completely I had already switched to single fire and aimed at the elite's head. Another squeeze of the trigger later the elite collapsed, kicking out with one leg before its body realized that it was dead.
"Thirteen rounds left," I muttered angrily. "I don't believe I've ever been in this situation…"
"First time for everything, sir," Marvin said uncomfortably calmly. "I'm down to my last three bullets."
"If you get three kills out of those I'm buying you a drink."
"I'll hold you to that, sir," he told me.
"But I'm still ordering you to fire only on elites."
He stood up. "Of course, wouldn't be a challenge otherwise."
Three jackals passed by in less than an hour, I was tempted to put a bullet through their ugly heads, but they weren't worth it. Marv took advantage of the opportunity to take a nap, but he was awakened by a Marine screaming. The sound had come out of nowhere, so it probably meant that an elite or a jackal had sneaked past the man's friends and cut him up. Sad way to go, but it had become the standard modus operandi for both the Covenant and us for the past few hours. I muttered a curse under my breath as Marv complained about not being able to get a moment's rest.
"Sir, we've got a squad of jackals moving up, they're wielding plasma rifles."
"Keep an eye on them," I told Caboose. "Don't shoot unless… you know."
"Yes, sir."
An explosion in the distance broke the relative silence for a few seconds before it faded away, then everything was quiet once more. From this distance I couldn't tell whether it was a human or alien explosive. Even if I could've, I wouldn't have known if it was a good or bad thing.
"Lieutenant Castillo, do you copy, are you there?" my radio crackled. I hadn't had any radio contact from Command for over eight hours.
"I'm here," I replied. "What is it?"
"Good news, for once," the man on the other end of the line said. "Of a sort."
"Do tell," I said, not wanting to set my hopes to high.
"The left flank has cut off the Covenant forces from their only source of ammunition in the valley."
"What?" I asked, jumping. "I thought the left was all but collapsed."
I could picture the man nodding. "Yes Lieutenant, but they pulled off a last second counter attack that caught the Covenant by surprise. Reports are scarce, but it seems that the troops rallied around Captain Jordan and commandeered a Covenant Wraith as well as several alien weapons. They pushed through the enemy lines which happened to be made up of tired and wounded soldiers that believed that they ahd just won the engagement."
"I'll be damned. Were Darbinian's men there?"
"Negative Lieutenant. They're still helping hold our right flank, doing a rather good job at it too."
"Yeah, yeah, the explosion?"
"That was their ammunition dump blowing up."
"That's fucking great," I said. "Where's Peterson?"
"The Major is coordinating with Captain Darbinian on the right flank, it's up to them to keep us from getting too flanked."
"Too flanked," I chuckled. "Did any of the men survive their charge through the enemy lines?"
"Negative El-tee, the entire battalion was wiped out."
"Eleven hundred men, damn… You said they rallied around a captain?"
"Yes, sir. Everybody above him was killed."
"And the Colonel on the East was KIA too… is Darbinian in charge there?"
"Yes, sir."
"Huh, I bet he loves that."
"I wouldn't know."
"Right, sorry. Thank you for the good news, is there anything else?"
"Negative, sir. Major Peterson just thought you would appreciate the morale boost."
"Damn right I do. Castillo out."
I smiled and moved away from the tiny window.
"You look happy, sir," Marv told me. "What was that all about?"
"Good news," I said. "We might be out of ammunition, but the Covenant just got their ammo dump blown up."
"The explosion?" Marv asked. "How?"
"Brave men died," I said with a shrug. "The left flank is gone."
"So we're exposed to anything that comes from the west?"
"There's not much left in the west apparently, but if the Covenant move their troops fast enough we might find ourselves in some trouble."
"Well, that won't happen for a while, I'll go downstairs and tell the rest."
"You do that," I told him. "Make it quick though."
Marvin climbed out of the attic and disappeared. A few moments later I could hear laughter coming from the bottom floor and the smile returned to my face. My men would appreciate the good news, and so would all the Marines in Sparatus. My smile briefly turned into a grin before I heard scratching on the ceiling. I grabbed my rifle and looked up at it. I heard some more scratching and followed it, moving quietly. I wanted to shoot through the ceiling so badly…
"Shit, shit, shit," I muttered.
The ceiling behind me collapsed and a jackal came down with it. I turned around but the bird batted my rifle aside before jumping at me. He had a plasma grenade on his other hand. It raised its ugly paw in an attempt to stick the grenade into my face but I managed to hit it in the beak, stunning it for an instant. The distraction bought me enough time to twist my body underneath and kick it off. The jackal flew backwards and slammed into the wall before the plasma grenade detonated.
"Phew," I said.
The floor groaned and collapsed, bringing down with it a section of the wall as well as my unfortunate ass. I crashed down into the fourth floor and felt a weight on my back. I realized that it wasn't only rubble when it screeched.
I turned around just in time to place my forearms in the way of a knife. Out of all the Covenant species, only the jackals and brutes used metallic cutting weapons and even then jackals preferred to use crystal like blades that detonated when they stabbed you.
The knife dug into the forearm armor, but it couldn't cut through the ballistic armor. I grabbed its wrist and ahoved its arm sideways before throwing it off me with a burst of superhuman strength. I stood up and reached for my sidearm before I remembered that it was empty and useless. I instead went for the knife on my chest and threw it at the jackal.
The fucking bird somehow managed to block it with its ugly blade. It fucking blocked a thrown knife while lying on the floor after having been thrown into a wall. Somewhere in the back of my head I found myself congratulating the scarred vulture for its quick reflexes. The rest of my head urged me to kill the bird even if it had a semblance of skill in hand-to-hand combat.
"Lieutenant!" one of my men shouted as I drew my knife from my boot.
"Don't shoot!" I ordered just as O'Malley and Hoff busted through the door, their rifles zeroed in on the jackal's head. "Don't shoot!"
The jackal was on its feet now, twirling the weird knife on its hand and eyeing us warily. I noted that it did not reach for the plasma pistol on its thigh. It suddenly lunged at me, but I parried its slashing attempt by placing my forearm against his. I countered but the jackal swatted my stab away with its own blade. We traded a few more blows to the same effect; it would block my knife with his and I would block his attacks at its forearm or wrist. Different styles, but the bird could fight.
Hoff lunged to bayonet it but the jackal twisted around and deflected his rifle before slashing at him. Hoff jumped backwards but was slashed in the hand and dropped his rifle. I hit the jackal with a kick to the leg, but as it fell down it swiped my feet from under me and jumped away from O'Malley's bayonet. I jumped back to my feet and brought my knife in a downward slash with all my strength. The jackal's arm faltered, but the dull side of his blade slammed against his beak armor and deflected my strike.
Sometimes it was easy to forget that most jackals were over six feet tall and had a wiry strength that would make them fearsome opponents. That, coupled with their beaks and claws turned them into very dangerous foes to fight up close. This one just happened to have a talent for knife fighting, making it even more annoying.
The thing rolled away and slashed at my thigh, hitting my pistol. I kicked at it, hitting it in the sternum, but the jackal held on to my leg and shoved me backwards, sending me into the pile of rubble from the explosion. I fell on my ass and could feel my blood rising in anger, but the fall gave me an idea. I grabbed onto a rock and stood up, a left-handed throw wasn't a guaranteed hit, but it would have to do. My arm flew back and then forward, letting go of the rock. The red brick hit the jackal in the beak, making an ugly noise. The bird stumbled backwards, its beak broken in what appeared to be a gruesomely painful injury.
It tried bringing its knife up but I had already stabbed it through the heart.
As the jackal collapsed I turned to see O'Malley looking at Hoff's hand injury.
"Lotta good you two idiots did."
O'Malley looked up but said nothing.
"Sorry sir," Hoff spoke up, sounding suitably ashamed. "I'm just not used to this kind of fighting. I feel like we ought to be carrying swords and shields."
Next to him O'Malley fervently nodded to signal her agreement.
I rolled my eyes. "Get that bandaged, and please don't make yourself look like an idiot again."
"Especially not in front of a girl," O'Malley added.
"Since when are you a girl Abri?" he asked her. "You're one of the– ow!"
"My, my, does it hurt too much?"
"Shut up," Hoff grumbled. "Let's go."
From the hole in the roof Marvin called out. "I leave for one minute and see what happens."
"Shut up and help me up," I ordered, picking up my thrown knife. "Asshole."
"Your rifle, sir," he reminded me.
"Right," I grunted, reaching for the weapon. "Not much left in this one."
"Not much left in any of us, sir," Marv replied with a small shrug after he pulled me up. "But we'll outlast them… we're good at that."
I nodded, wondering whether that would be humanity's way from now on. Outlasting an alien juggernaut hell-bent on exterminating us. It certainly seemed like it would end that way, they'd take planet after planet until there were no more humans left to fight back.
No. They'll get tired of dying by the thousands soon enough. Even if they don't they'll meet a wall at Reach.
"Reach?" Schitzo laughed. "Please, they're just about done with this place and it's been less than half a year. It might take them twice as long as that to get through the Epsilon Eridani fleet, but it will happen."
There was a tone of reluctance and finality to him that I did not enjoy.
No. It won't come to that.
May 28, 2549 (UNSC Calendar)/
Sparatus, Paris IV, Paris System
"That was our last bullet," Miranda said finally.
"Was it worth it?" Hoff asked her.
"Damn right it was," Ramirez said. "That ultra led the–"
"We all know what he did James," Lizzo said tiredly. "Let's worry about something else for now. Sandor is supposed to be getting here soon. Maybe he'll bring ammunition."
"Yeah right," Carver joined the conversation. "Maybe he'll bring knives."
"Like we need those," Ramirez replied, drawing his own large combat knife.
I let the conversation fade to a buzz in the back of my head as I limped downstairs. I winced halfway through the fancy stairwell and gripped the railing tightly. I hadn't been hit in a while, but my whole body was just tired. Some part of myself wondered whether a good night's sleep in a fancy mattress would do while the other told me that I would never recover from this feeling.
I hopped down the last few steps and then slid down a hole in the floor and into the basement. From down there I looked up at the six consecutive holes going from basement to attic. Not for the first time I thought it a miracle the mortar punching a hole through the house hadn't seriously hurt anybody.
"Sir?"
"Yeah," I grunted.
"How's d'Arc doing?"
Sutton looked down at the unconscious Sarah and huffed out a breath of frustration. "I removed the steel bar," he told me, pointing at the item in question, "and patched her up with nylon and a needle that I found here. Disinfected the wound with rubbing alcohol on the bathroom's first aid kit…"
Sutton sighed and rubbed his head.
"Is she all right?"
"Being impaled clean through isn't really all that bad as most people would imagine," Sutton told me. "The rod did some damage to her intestines and liver, but nothing too serious. People used to survive injuries like this one in the middle ages."
"Sutton, get to the point."
"It was the concussive blast, sir. The explosion sent splinters and shrapnel through her body. Again, nothing serious, but the blast itself played hell with her internal organs. Best as I can tell one of her lungs is partially collapsed and there might be internal bruising." He paused hesitantly. "I don't know El-tee, I can't make a diagnostic like this."
I looked at d'Arc. Her chest rose and fell slowly. The problem was that when she inhaled her chest barely rose. Even without her armor on it was hard to notice any movement on her. Her forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat and her face contorted in an ugly grimace of pain.
"Can you make it easier for her?"
"We're all out of painkillers," Sutton told me. "Sarah's on her own now."
"Fever?"
"Yes."
"Antibiotics?"
"I'm dosing her with as many as I dare," he said, "but they don't seem to be working. If we didn't have any meds she would've died last night."
I looked back down at her. "Will she make it?"
"If we don't get to a hospital soon she's as good as dead. If we do… it's too hard to tell."
I removed my helmet and ran my hand through my hair. For the past five months I had grown an unusually long mop of hair. I hadn't washed it in almost as long, it felt greasy and disgusting, but the feeling of it wasn't what kept my attention. D'Arc was a good Helljumper, a sweet girl too. Pavel told me that she had something serious with a guy back in Reach. The guy was a little bit older than she was, but he had served and finished his contract. That made him a good man in my books.
I didn't want her to die, she was young and under my command.
"Us young folks are the ones that pay the price, eh?" Sutton said humorlessly.
"I don't think I'm that young anymore," I said, sitting down on my helmet. "I've been fighting for a long time, Sutton. Longer than most. I don't know how much longer I can keep up with this shit."
"Sir, with all due respect, you're wrong. Thirty four isn't old by any standard, not even professional sports and I'm willing to bet everything I have that you'll outlive us all, older or not."
I chuckled quietly. "Outlive you all… If that were to happen I don't think it'd be by much. With this war and all, if I outlive you Sutton you know what that means."
He shrugged. "We all joined to die."
"We joined to die," I agreed, remembering my own words. "To die…"
"And kick ass as we go," he added.
"Words to live by," I said. "And Sutton?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Never tell me I'm wrong again."
"Understood, lieutenant."
I patted him in the shoulder and gave d'Arc a long look before climbing back out of the basement. I don't even know why I bothered with carrying my rifle with me. It was just dead weight, barely useless as a club. My men were all in the same condition as I was, tired, frustrated, and angry. Yet they were determined. I could see the fire in their eyes that told me they would fight to the death, kicking ass as they went.
"Grigori."
"Yes?" he asked, lazily looking up at me.
"Get some planks or bedposts, sharpen them."
"Spears?"
I nodded. "It has been a while since things were this interesting, let's add a little bit of spice to it."
Caboose nodded and pulled himself up. "Yes, sir. Looking forward to using them."
"So am I."
I was surprised at the quality of spears that my men made. I was more surprised at the eagerness to use them. Sandor came up to deliver them, limping slightly. He had a big grin on his face and carried with him three makeshift spears, one of which had his knife firmly tied to the top.
"Sandor, glad to see you on your feet," Marvin said, clapping him in the shoulder. "Limping?"
"Little bit," he said. "But it's a lot better now. Hey sir!"
"Sandor," I greeted, raising an arm. "Got ammunition?"
He shook his head. "Nope, they stripped me of ammo before sending me to the front, greedy bastards. Anyways, here's your pointy sticks."
I grabbed the spear and noticed that it would probably snap the first time I used it. The point had been sharpened with someone's knife and would indeed go through a body without too much trouble, but a good old-fashioned steel-tipped spear would've worked fine for me. Even better, a box of ammunition and a six pack of Eposz Lager. Not too much to ask for, especially considering that it was the military's duty to provide me with ammunition and a six pack wasn't really all that expensive.
"So… we throw them?" Marv asked, hefting his stick. "I mean, I can handle a stick well enough, but I think that I'd be good at the thrusting thing, not throwing."
I smiled.
"I don't know how good this one would handle," Sandor said, examining the knife tied to his stick. "Little longer, more reach, but seems like it's dangerous to handle. People don't always like longer, you know?"
Marvin nodded. "I like the length of this stick, long enough but not long enough that it hangs downwards on its own weight."
"I know what you mean," Sandor said seriously. "But should I use the pointy end to stab or just slash with the blade of it?"
"Generally I think that sticks are supposed to go in point first. Faster is better."
"Not really," Sandor shook his head in disagreement. "Slow prolongs the pleasure."
"You mean pain?"
"Yes, but their pain is my pleasure."
There was an uncomfortable pause.
"That analogy just went down a very dark place," I said. "And I've got the biggest dick in the room."
Sandor tried and failed to hold in laughter while Marv simply chuckled slightly in the way of a man that had been beat and wasn't bothered by it. They talked for a little bit mire, mainly about what Sandor had been doing for the past couple of days. He was pissed that he hadn't been able to fight, but assures us that he was ready to make up for his absence during the constant assaults.
"Well, gotta guard downstairs," he said with a small shrug. "Second floor is reduced to a room now…"
"Surprised the house is still standing?" I asked.
"You have no idea," he told me. "Anyways, see you in a few, sir. Marv."
"See ya," Marvin said. "Hey, ask Miri whether she thinks she'll be good handling that stick."
"She's in the same room as Staff Konstantinov."
"On second thought," Marv amended, "ask O'Malley. I'd tell you to ask Andrea, but…"
"She'd eat me alive," Sandor said. "See ya."
"Never thought I'd see the day where we'd have to use spears to fight the covvies," Marv said after the door was closed. I mean, I didn't think bashing a hingehead's skull in with a rock was too far-fetched, but actually building a spear…"
I kicked my own spear. "Brave new world we live in."
"Tell me about it. Hey sir, shouldn't we head downstairs? Another attempt to come through the roof is unlikely and we can just guard the stairwell there."
I shrugged. "If you think it advisable."
Marv froze. "Is that a trick question?"
"I don't think it even was a question," I told him. "And besides, the answer is a simple one."
"Which would be…"
I raised my eyebrow slowly. "Really? Marv… You can't make up your own mind?"
"We should… stay?"
"Hell no," I said, standing up. "Set a guard on the room downstairs and the attic stairwell and let's get it over with. You know what, you stay up here, guarding the attic."
"Of course…"
"What was that?" I snapped.
"Nothing, sir."
"Thought so."
I walked down the attic and stepped on the fourth floor. The floor was covered with dust and pieces of the ceiling, and the lighting paneling as well as the light bulbs were destroyed. The glass cracked under my feet as I walked. The walls were pockmarked with holes with sizes ranging from thumb-width to as big around as my fist. Most of the enemy counter-fire had been directed at this floor in the opening day of the battle, in an attempt to hit Miri or Hoff, our deadly sharpshooters. The house must've looked like a cheese grater from the outside had half of it not been missing. It probably just looked like a crumbling mess.
The third floor was in better shape. Only one of the rooms was completely inaccessible and the rest of them all had mostly full ceilings. While it was almost as riddled with holes as the fourth floor there were less big ones. Most of the heavier weapons had been directed at the fourth floor as opposed to here. The walling was torn and hanging, the doors were hanging by the hinges and a few of the window frames had been shattered into small particles from all the concentrated plasma fire.
The second floor, unlike the other two, was damaged mostly by plasma weaponry. Scorch marks marred the walls and not needle and carbine holes. The energy weapons had lit small fires a couple of times, but after we removed the drapes and beds the fires had stopped being an issue. I had to step over ripped bed covers and a mattress to cross the main hallway.
Pavel was sitting at the bottom of the stairwell, looking disgustedly at the spear over his knees. His was shorter than mine and had been carved so that the pointy end had barbs. It looked like a great weapon for repeated stabbing. Pavel, however, seemed unsure of how to even look at it. A barbed spear was all good and well if you wanted to do some harpoon hunting in the sea, but the elites weren't exactly analogous to fish.
"There's always bigger fish," I muttered.
"What was that?" Pavel asked me. "I see you got your wooden stick."
I examined the spear on my hand. "Should do the trick."
"Next thing you know we're going to be jousting with Mongooses as steeds."
"Pavel," I said, placing my hand on his shoulder gently. "Who the fuck even says steeds anymore?"
Pavel brandished his spear angrily, shaking it in his fist. "Hey, calm down Mr. In-Style."
"At least my haircut isn't an outdated one," I snapped back.
"We have the same haircut!"
"Your buzz cut is so 2548."
"Really, Frank?" Pavel asked in a droll voice. "Really?"
"Movement!"
"Movement!"
Both Ramirez and Lizzo called out the warning at the same time. I heard the cocking of rifles followed by curses and mutterings of anger. I hefted my spear and loosened my knives on their sheathes. It would certainly be an interesting thing… a full-scale physical action against the Covenant.
Interesting, but not fun, mind you.
"Shit, shit, shit!" Lizzo called out. "We've got some serious troop movement, they're preparing to storm our lines!"
I heard similar shouts and warning calls coming from nearby platoons and squads, all of them saying the same thing. The Covenant were attacking.
"Handle the big ones first!" I said. "Remember that some of them might still have ammunition!"
"Go for the mouth on the elites," Pavel shouted. "Neck and armpits if that one fails. Shield batteries or no that armor can stop these flimsy sticks."
"Don't engage in one-to-one unless you're Pavel, Marv, Caboose, or myself," I added. "Swarm the big ones, terminate the smaller ones with extreme prejudice."
"Always loved that expression," Hoff said, coming down the stairs. "Extreme prejudice."
"Because that's how women reject you?" Sandor asked him.
Hoff laughed loudly and stopped abruptly. "We can make a contest out of it next time we get some shore leave."
"They're half a block away!" Lizzo shouted. "Energy swords!"
"Damn," I muttered. "Throwing your spear might not be such a bad idea."
"Maybe we should just run, eh?" O'Malley suggested jokingly. "Leave Sasha as bait."
"Hey!" Dotsenko shouted back. "I thought you cared!"
The rest of the platoon laughed at his theatricality, but their laughs were nervous, empty. I moved up to the front door and ordered my men to cover the windows and other points of entry. The two heavy wooden doors were both closed and barred with an equally heavy table. An elite would knock them open in perhaps to heavy kicks.
"They're just outside!" Lizzo cried.
The doors shook just as two elites burst through the windows. Before they could even get a footing they were swarmed. The one on my left was impaled completely through the neck by Caboose just as Carver got a spear underneath the elites armpit. The other elite on my right received a spear to the gut, courtesy of Sandor. The elite doubled over on instinct, letting go of its energy sword. Miri and Hoff immediately helped Sandor kill the elite with their own spears. Driving them through the hingehead's neck and upper chest.
As the second elite fell the doors burst open and a large elite came bellowing at everyone. The wide open jaws presented an irresistible target, and the red-armored elite soon found itself with a spear coming in through the roof of its mouth and out the back of its head. I smiled as I yanked the spear and the alien collapsed, giving way to a bunch of grunts and jackals with kitchen knives and needle cutlasses.
I took three frantic steps back as I repositioned my spear. Marv and Dotsenko each hit a jackal in the chest, hitting the lungs and forcing them to the floor.
Dotsenko was tackled by a grunt and stabbed on the thigh with a small blade. He grunted and brought down his fist on the grunt's head, knocking it to the floor. Ramirez stabbed the grunt as it fell and helped his best friend back, using him to lean on.
I barely got to raise my spear in time to block a jackal from taking a bite off my neck. Its teeth closed on the spear, biting on the shaft. I twisted it sideways and kicked the jackal's ribs. As it doubled over I yanked my spear back and smacked it on the neck before swinging it around and driving the point through its chest.
"Elite!"
My men immediately grouped themselves tight together, spears aimed at the elite in question. The alien in question was a big one, with an energy sword on one hand and an energy dagger on the other one. Marv jumped forward and probed at it before jumping backwards to avoid a swing.
Pavel threw his spear at the elite, hitting it in the chest. The wooden spear bounced off the armor with barely a pause and the elite roared, jumping in his direction and swinging its sword wildly. O'Malley jumped backwards and Carver tossed her behind him with one hand before stabbing at the elite. The spear slipped on the chest armor but carved into the unprotected arm, eliciting another roar from the elite.
My men decided that a dozen of us cowering at the sight of an elite was slightly embarrassing and rushed the alien. Dotsenko stabbed it in the leg just as Ramirez tackled the elite, making it stagger and driving it against the wall. Sandor stabbed it through the wrist, driving the elite's hand into the wall and rendering its sword arm useless. The elite tried to hit the Helljumpers closest to it with its energy dagger, but Miri ducked underneath a swipe and came up, stabbing the alien through the armpit and out the shoulder.
I almost laughed at the sight of the elite pinned on so many sides, but Andrea got it out of its misery with a well-placed stab through the neck.
The rest of the grunts and jackals had kept their distance behind the elite and seemed to panic when we killed the last of their warrior-caste leaders. We certainly didn't give them time to fall back, instead stabbing and slashing and snapping necks before they could leave the house.
"Now what?" Dotsenko asked, nursing his injured leg.
Sandor was already moving. He disappeared through the door and let out a war cry. Hoff and Marv went behind him, probably trying to stop him from doing something too stupid. Ramirez followed them with O'Malley and Caboose close behind.
"Well what are you standing there for?!" I asked, running after my men.
"Kill them all!" Pavel shouted.
The first thing I ran into was Andrea. She was punching a jackal on the ground with both fists. Her gloves were bloodied and the jackal's head was a bloody mess.
"Get up!" I shouted, jumping over her. "Up!"
I slammed into an elite. The poor alien didn't see me coming and tripped over its own legs, falling to the ground. I raised my spear with both hands and drove it through the back of its neck with all my strength. I yanked and turned at the same time I drew my knife. I barely had time to kick at a grunt, driving it backwards. The grunt staggered before Pavel brought down his knife on its head, cleaving through the skull.
"Behind you!" he warned.
I turned around and caught a jackal in the shoulder. The spear snapped and the jackal fell, but I drove the broken end through the jackal's right eye, leaving it there and pulling the tip free of its shoulder.
"Frank!" Pavel called.
He jumped back as an elite punched at him. I moved in to join him, the broken spear in one hand and my knife on the other one. The elite in front of us looked wild-eyed and angry. There were several bandages around its belly and arms. Most of them looked like they came from bed sheets or ripped shirts.
Before it could move a head-sized rock hit it in the side of the head. Marvin jumped at the elite immediately after it fell to the ground, picked up his rock, and brought it back down in its head. The elite jerked its legs once and died.
"Well that was… anticlimactic," Pavel said.
"That's a word we don't hear very often," I told him. "Stand ready."
A plasma shot rang out and I heard a cry of pain. Andy collapsed, grabbing onto her hip with both hands. O'Malley and Carver jumped over her screaming body and drove back two jackals that had swarmed in for the kill while Sandor, Hoff, and Miri cornered the elite that had fired at her and stabbed it more times than was strictly necessary.
"Andy's hit again," Schitzo complained. "I swear, she's as big a drain on UNSC resources as a whole battle group."
"Drag her back inside!" I ordered. "Get her in the basement with Sutton and d'Arc!"
As Carver dragged Andrea back to relative safety Dotsenko and Ramirez engaged a jackal with a functioning shield-gauntlet. They took turns stabbing at it. The jackal had to quickly switch between high and low guards without a possibility for counterattack. Dotsenko got an attack past the shields, but the jackal pinned it to the ground. Still, Dotsenko was a lot stronger than the jackal and raised the spear violently, forcing the jackal's arm up with it. Ramirez gave a shout of triumph and drove his spear through the jackal's stomach, twisting and turning it before yanking it backwards.
I jumped back as a grunt slashed at me with its claws. Before I could stab at it another of the gas-suckers jumped at my back and started clawing at my shoulders and neck. A few of its attempts got through the thick undersuit, but it was its weight that brought me down. I managed to twist so that I landed on top of it and promptly rolled so that I was in a position to stab it. As soon as I got that over with I turned to face the other grunt, but Pavel had already taken care of him, slashing its throat clean through with his knive.
"Your spear?" I asked.
He shrugged and picked up a fist-sized rock from the ground before throwing it at an elite. The elite blocked it with its forearm, but it could block Hoff's next fastball. The helmet was dented from the force of the impact and the elite fell right on his ass.
"Maybe you should've been a pitcher!" Sandor told him as he stabbed the stunned elite through the chest.
"Baseball's for sissies," Hoff shouted back at him.
The way he threw the next brick you would've thought he was being sarcastic. A grunt's skull caved in just as a jackal dug a knife into Miranda's arm. She cried out and jerked her arm backwards, taking the knife with her. The jackal tried to hop back but Sandor slashed at its throat with his spear, the knife went through cleanly and nearly decapitated the jackal.
"Back to the house!" I shouted, poking at a pair of jackals that were snarling at me.
"Back!"
I hadn't realized it, but we had moved pretty far away from the entrance to our house. My men had the wounded place themselves behind a loose line and slowly moved backward as the disorganized Covenant tried to get past us. They almost did two or three times, but we managed to enter without any further injuries.
"Goddamn!" I shouted, closing the doors behind me. "Bar those doors!"
"Cover the windows!" Pavel's voice boomed.
My men slammed the doors shut and poked at the covvies that tried to come through the windows before we moved furniture up to cover them. A few of the Covenant soldiers attempted to bring them down before giving up and deciding that they probably had more important things to do than storm a single house. I had Andy and Miranda moved up to the second floor.
"Sutton, can we move d'Arc?"
"We can, but I wouldn't really recommend it."
"Why not?"
"She might panic."
I rolled my eyes. "Do it, we can defend the stairs easily."
"Only when compared to the hole in the basement," Sutton muttered. "I'll get her upstairs right away."
"Be quick about it." I looked around at the flurry of activity, some of my men were grabbing other pieces of wood or steel rods to use as close-quarters weapons.
"Miranda, are you alright?" I called out, climbing up the stairs.
"Yes, sir," she replied, her voice breaking. "It hurts."
"Can you hold a knife?"
She nodded. "Andy?"
"I can't even stand, sir," she said drily. "Really?"
"Make a crowsbow or something," I told her. "You'll just be stomped to death if we're all killed."
"Great," she muttered through clenched teeth.
One look at her injury showed that the plasma had dissipated when hitting the armor and had been further destabilized when it made contact with the bone. The problem with it was that a large portion of the skin had been burnt pretty badly. Sutton had already washed the wound, but it was still exposed to the open air. In a way, she had been lucky, had there been any live ammo on her belt they surely would've detonated, injuring her further.
I ran back down and helped my men block the doors. The windows had been covered with a wardrobe and a large table before they piled some debris in between them and the walls. While the covvies could easily move those, they couldn't move them so much that they could jump through without any effort, instead they had to squeeze through them, facing dozens of angry spears from both directions. After two elites had tried to bull their way through the windows and died for it they concentrated on the door. Those they could open and have some maneuvering room for attacking us.
"Hold the door!" I ordered, tackling it back shut after a particularly hard kick.
"The hinges can't take it," Pavel cursed. "Frank, we have to pull back to the stairs."
"A little bit longer!"
The doors were kicked and all of us were thrown backwards before jumping back towards it, using out weight to hold them closed. I could see that another two or three kicks would remove the heavy wooden doors from the hinges and then nothing would stop the covvies from coming through.
"All UNSC units this is Major Reyes with Army Airborne, call in your positions immediately."
I complied on instinct, not even wondering how the hell that man had gotten here and had reliable radio in this jammer-filled town.
"Heads up," the major warned.
A loud bang drew my attention and as I looked back over my shoulder I saw a UNSC resupply pod behind me. It had come through the hole on the ceiling. As I looked at it with wide eyes I heard the beautiful sound of heavy caliber gunfire hitting flesh and concrete. The sound seemed so alien even if I had only last heard it a day or so ago.
"It's shotgun shells!" Ramirez shouted.
"Out of the way!" Caboose ordered, shoving him to the side and grabbing a bunch. He ran towards his shotgun, which had been propped up against the stairwell, and started loading it. "Let them come!"
All of us immediately stepped away from the door and to the side. A massive elite with armor that looked like it had been through hell and back again stepped through. Caboose gave him a suitable welcome, any UNSC serviceman would've been proud of the way he decapitated it with a blast of buckshot to the face. He immediately followed up with a blast to a jackal and another to a grunt. Three dead aliens in half as many seconds wasn't bad at all, especially when we hadn't had the least amount of gunpowder on us.
"MA5 ammo," Ramirez called, tossing magazines to the ones that had assault rifles. "Let's make them pay for it."
Before I could even process what had just happened my men were slapping fresh magazines into their rifles and firing at the Covenant. Even then I couldn't help but notice that the bursts they used were a lot shorter than usual, even though that issue was no longer a problem they still had ingrained into their minds.
More thudding noises filled my ears and Caboose immediately said that more resupply pods had landed right outside the house.
"Pistols, sir!" he shouted back.
"Clear the area," I ordered. "Form a perimeter and don't let your guard down!"
The few of my men who had loaded weapons stepped back outside, gunning down anything that didn't have olive drab or ODST blacks on. I moved up to the nearest supply pod and grabbed two pistols, Army issue.
"Pavel, catch!"
He caught it and immediately nailed a grunt in the head with it. "Damn that feels good."
I threw two other pistols at Lizzo and Sandor before grabbing the last one for myself. I aimed at a jackal and fired a single shot, hitting it in the chest. My men slowly spread out, taking weapons from the pods. I hit two grunts and helped bring down an elite. Soon enough our perimeter was made larger and we linked up with a Marine unit.
"Lieutenant!" the sergeant in charge called up to me. "Good to see you!"
"Same thing," I replied happily, clapping him in the back. "They finally sent reinforcements."
"Indeed they did," he said, looking up at the Falcon gunships and Pelicans making strafing runs on the Covenant soldiers. "God bless them."
"Sir, found some BR55 ammo!" Marv said, tossing me a belt of the 9.5mm bullets.
I looked down at them and grabbed my rifle from over my shoulder, slapping a fresh magazine inside.
"De aquí soy," I murmured with a smile. "Come on! Let's take back this town!"
Not a proofread chapter. I just corrected the red squiggles and fixed a few small things. Forgive any mistakes. I'd also like you to forgive the delay, but this week has been killer. I hate burdening you with my personal life, but I'm two weeks from finals and all my teachers decided that it was the time to leave a bunch of essays and annoying investigations. I also happen to be participating in a Model United Nations and have been researching my topic like crazy lest I risk getting kicked out of it (I'm traveling to New York for it, bitches). Other than that I'm moving out of Mexico and into the US and nobody told me that I had to take the SAT to get into college so I'm taking some intensive courses that take five hours from tuesdays and thursdays. And I was really disappointed with today's Arrow episode and the Game of Thrones wasn't all that great and for some reason I've started watching Downton Abbey but haven't been able to progress with it because of just how fucking busy I am.
Sorry. I promise not to do that ever again, I hate reading it in post-chapter notes in other fics and I know that you guys do too, but I need you to understand what I'm going through right now.
*deep breath*
Well, pretty sweet chapter, little bit of gunfighting and a lot of spears and knives. We also get the UNSC Army Airborne to show up. Just a heads up, they won't really be big players in this battle, but will have more appearances in Reach.
We also have one marvelous jackal that gave as good as he got before, you know, dying. Two awesome jackals in a row... must be a phase.
The Critical One:all the way to Earth.
alricstrife: I like how you think
FlamingDVD: Yeah, I'm actually doing that, the problem is that I had this campaign all planned out and actually got some ideas as I wrote it down. I even had to save up the good ones for Reach. It won't be much longer until Reach, worry not.
TrickyNick20: You have my respect. Thanks for putting up with this for such a long time and even more thanks for actually enjoying it.
I'll try to update more often gents (and ladies?), but it might be awhile before I really warm up. As always, I ask for your reviews in a way that seams eager but not too eager to hear what you think while cleverly disguising the fact that I love seeing my review count rise and get a kick out of all the email notifications.
Yeah... erm... Feliz Cinco de Mayo, where we beat the toughest army in the world at a time and then got conquered for it. Viva México!
Stay strong.
-casquis