Chapter CXCI: Hegy

August 14, 2552 (UNSC Calendar)/

Szurdok Ridge, Viery Territory, Reach, Epsilon Eridani System

"If we came up with the term 'shock and awe', it was the Covenant who redefined it."

The sun had reached its summit only recently. Epsilon Eridani shone brightly overhead, but the smoke and dust that the small-scale glassing had raised dulled its shine. The daytime didn't make it any easier on the covvies however, the Spartan-IIIs and their camouflaged armor was every bit as effective during the daytime as during the nighttime. I dare say that the cloaking mechanism on the armor was even better than whatever the Covenant used.

That's the magic of reverse-engineering for you.

"Frank," Pavel said, sneaking up behind me.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered. "I got you."

"Who has the radio?"

"Longworth was giving it a work over," I told him. "He told me that he might get a direct line to Esztergom."

"Longworth? Is there anything he can't do?"

"Not much, really," I said, chuckling. "Beat me in hand-to-hand."

"Beat me in hand-to-hand," Pavel said.

I nodded. Pavel's methods were brutal and unrefined, but he could dish out a pounding like few others. Most of his skills came from firsthand experience in close quarters combat with elites, jackals, and sometimes even brutes. He compensated for his lack of natural talent with incredibly powerful punches. Trust me, you haven't seen a real punch until you see Pavel Klaus snap a grunt's neck with a left hook to the jaw.

"Longworth, get over here," I said, kicking a grunt's burnt corpse. "Quickly."

"Yes, sir, right away, sir."

The man jogged up to our position and handed me the radio pack. I placed it on the dead grunt's chest and looked at him expectantly.

"I did the best I could to increase the transmitting power," Longworth said. "This thing should get a clear signal to Esztergom, but with all the interference…"
"Do I just dial a number?" Pavel asked him, grabbing the phone from my hands.

"Yes, sir," Longworth said, nodding brightly.

"Don't call me sir," Pavel muttered, dialing his wife's number and taking off his helmet.

I looked at him expectantly and he met my eyes, not saying anything for a couple of seconds.

"Amber?" Pavel asked, practically bursting with joy. "Yeah, yeah, it's me. Are you alright? You alright?"

I smiled when he gave me a quick nod.

"How's Lavanya? And Gunny. Good, good… No, I'm sorry, things aren't too good right now. What have you heard? What?!"

"What?" I asked him.

"They've lost contact with all the planet, but state of emergency hasn't been declared yet."

I cursed. The UNSC and ONI liked keeping things on the down low, but not telling your own citizens that the planet they were living on was under attack was just downright mean.

"Ok, Amber, listen very closely, ok? No, no, no, shut up and listen. Reach is under attack. No, shut up. It's the real deal, love. We've got boots on the ground all over Szurdok Ridge and the area around it. Don't panic, Amber! I need you to listen to me. The warning hasn't come out yet, but it will soon. I want you to pack up one bag for yourself and another one for Lavanya. I also want you to grab the pistol in my bedside drawer. You know how to use it, right? Good."

I cursed again.

"Once you have those two bags I want you to head straight for the space port. It'll probably be closed or all flights will be delayed, but I need you to stay there. The moment the warning comes it'll be the main evacuation area and I want you to be the first one there."

Pavel paused and frowned.

"Leave him enough food to last him a week or three. And leave the window open."

I cursed for the third time. Of course Amber couldn't take her dog with them. Pavel's apartment was on the second floor and Gunny could probably make the jump down if it ran out of food. It was still a pretty long way down for a medium-sized dog, but it was better than starving to death.

"No, no, no. We're going to win this, Amber. I know that because this is Reach, you can't just attack this planet and expect to win. No, no, I don't want you here at all until we've kicked them out of the system. Yes, I promise I'll go check on Gunny as soon as I can. And Amber? Don't tell anybody. No, nobody at all."

I glared at him.

"Fine," he relented. "You can tell Katie, but she cant tell anybody at all. You be sure to let her know that, ok? Good. Love, keep the gun with you at all times. Don't let go of it unless UNSC personnel ask you to leave it. Do you understand? Two bags, one gun. Tell Katie, she'll probably bring her cousin along, but that's it. Amber. I love you. I gotta go, I gotta go, Amber. I love you."

Pavel pulled the phone from his ears and hung up. I sighed and sat down in front of him while Longworth just lunged around awkwardly looking away.

"Longworth," I said.

"Yes, sir?"

"What we just did breaches several protocols, you understand that?"

"Yes, sir."

"It is also morally wrong. Us taking advantage of our seniority in order to make personal calls in the middle of a combat operation isn't exactly a good example."

"Sir?"

"What I'm saying is that you can't tell anybody that we made this call. If anybody asks you why you were working on the radio you say that you were trying to clear through the interference on my orders."

"Yes, sir."

I nodded and clapped him in the shoulder. "Good man… and keep your opinions of this to yourself."

"Yes, sir," Longworth nodded.

"Dismissed."

Longworth walked away a lot faster than he otherwise would have, leaving the radio behind with us. I looked away from him and back to Pavel. My second-in-command was on his knee, looking at the radio in his hand. He had a pondering frown that spoke volumes about what he was going through. After almost a minute he sighed and took a deep breath before looking at me, hanging the radio on the backpack.

"It could've gone worse," he said calmly. "She could've panicked."

"She's a strong woman," I told her. "Katie and Liz have firsthand experience with this kind of crap, they'll be safe together."

"Let's hope they don't need the firsthand experience," Pavel said, grabbing his helmet and putting it on.

"Pavel, she's going to be fine," I assured him. "The whole city is going to be fine. Your wide, your daughter, your dog, and your home are all going to be waiting for you right there. Well, you know what I mean."

"I want Amber on Earth. Did you hear about the ODP web?"

"Yeah," I said. "Heard that there are three hundred defense platforms. I mean, there are only twenty of those here."

"We could sure borrow a pair right now," Pavel grunted.

I stood up and squeezed his shoulder tightly. "It's going to be fine, Pavel."

I left my friend sitting by himself and walked back to the small plateau where we had set up shop. The five Spartans had taken off to do some scouting and were supposed to be back anytime now. Team Falcata had done wonders for us. They didn't have the sheer speed or strength that the other Spartans had, but they moved faster than anybody else and the photo-reactive armor that they had was an extremely useful tool. They'd disappear and kill the aliens while we held their attentions. They were silent about it too, by the time the Covenant noticed that they were under attack from the rear their numbers were down by fifty percent or more.

"Sir," a couple of my men greeted.

"How's Bee doing?" I asked Payat when I saw him.

"A lot better," he said. "He can walk on his own now, but the biofoam needs more time to speed up the healing process. Medical attention would be great, but… well."

"And how's everybody else?"

"Minor injuries mostly," Payat said, scratching the back of his neck. "Crow was hit pretty bad, but it was more messy than dangerous. He won't be walking for at least a couple of days before he's on his feet. If I could give him a transfusion then he'd start feeling better faster."

"And Miranda?"

"She's good," Payat said. "The pain's all gone now, but she'll be limping for a while. A whole chunk of muscle was hurt, but the armor kept her leg from being charred."

"And that's the good news," I smiled. "Thanks Payat."

"No problem, sir. I wish I'd get more appreciation from the men whose lives I'm saving."

"If you wanted appreciation you should've become a doctor."

Payat cringed. "That was a low blow, sir."

I laughed. "Sorry, Payat," I apologized. He had been a doctor before he was drafted, and he had been on the way to becoming a damn fine surgeon. "You're a better combat medic than anybody I've known. And I've known a lot of damn fine medics."

My head immediately flashed back to the first time I had seen Hanna walking the halls of the Inconvenience. She had been beautiful back then and in my mind she was still the most beautiful women I had ever known. She had also been an excellent medic, but Payat had been a doctor in a trauma unit and not a lot of stuff could beat that, not even half a decade of combat experience.

"Thank you, El-tee," Payat said, beaming. "I'll be sure to tell them you said that."

I laughed. "Please do. Any word on the Spartans?"

"Sir?" a vaguely familiar voice said.

I twitched and turned around to see an incredibly tall armored figure standing opposite me. It was Eduardo-G271. The only way I managed to recognize him was because he had a Falcata, his team's namesake, strapped across his shoulder. The man was quite a bit taller than I was, but not nearly as tall as Tank was. The IIIs weren't nearly as massive as the IIs were, but they were still big enough to give most men a pause.

"Yes?" I asked. It irked me that the Spartans hadn't given me their ranks. I had gotten my helmet to identify them each by their first name and number as they had given it to me, but saying it out loud felt unprofessional, especially because I didn't know them or anything about them.

"No Covenant activity to report," the Spartan said.

"Did you have to spook me to tell me that?" I asked.

"I apologize, Lieutenant," he said. To his credit, he actually sounded apologetic.

"Damn right you do," I said. "The rest of your team isn't going to magically appear around me in, are they?"

An instant later the four remaining members of Team Falcata simultaneously turned off their cloaking systems and materialized. They weren't exactly around me, but they were forming a semi-circle of sorts.

"Fucking kids," Schitzo muttered.

I shook my head. "A battalion, was it?" I asked them. "Damn fine job we all did."

"No problem," the leader, Jonah-G012 said, taking a small step forward.

A few of my men scoffed at that. They were mostly the ODSTs that harbored some degree of resentment towards the Spartans. I ignored them and looked at the five Spartans. One of the two girls was even slightly shorter than I was. Not by much, mind you, but to my ego it was quite a victory.

"Well then," I said, clapping my hands together. "No sign of the covvies means no more work for us. The 61st is going to be here in a couple of hours, we can hold this ground until they do."

A few of the Spartans looked uncomfortable at the thought of inaction, but ultimately they didn't say anything when Jonah-G012 nodded at me.

"Spread out," he ordered his team. "Keep watch for any enemy movement."

I nodded at the Spartan leader to give the impression that I endorsed his order. I couldn't have a unit working alongside mine where the leader didn't want to follow my orders. I didn't expect to order around the Spartan team, but if my suspicions were correct, these five men were not men. They were kids, and kids could make mistakes. If I sensed that Falcata was about to fuck something up I had to know that they'd cease and desist if I told them to.

I sighed inwardly. Being an officer was a drag, but being a simple first lieutenant in charge of over fifty men was a lot harder than I expected. A unit this size was supposed to be commanded by a captain, at least in theory. My biggest command ever had been twenty men and I was now in command of almost three times as many as I was used to. I had to let go of my instinct to micromanage everything and everyone and let the squad leaders do their thing.

"Two hours and this nightmare will be all over," I murmured, looking at the Spartans as they jogged away from me and started taking defensive positions. "Two hours."

"Lieutenant Castillo, pleasure to finally meet you," Lieutenant Colonel Andy Smith said. "We've been hearing your name nonstop since yesterday night."

"I'm flattered," I said, shaking his hand. "I see you brought the whole brigade?"

"Not all of it," he chuckled. "The rest of my vehicles are down the hill."

I looked at the four Armadillo IFVs and smiled. The tracked vehicles were full of duffel bags and entrenchment equipment. With the addition of extra armor on the sides and front the machines looked might powerful, particularly the autocannons on the top.

"Well, you certainly made our job a whole lot easier," Colonel Smith said. "I can't believe you wiped the floor with a whole battalion."

"We had some help," I said with a small shrug. "A lot of it."

"Nonetheless," he said. "Thanks a lot."

"Anytime," I replied, smiling. "You have any news? We didn't get many transmissions. Mostly just you guys updating us on our position."

Colonel Smith sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "It could be going better, you know? We're countering on all fronts, but the Covenant dropped at least a couple of divisions. We'll squash them in time, but there's been some trouble mobilizing our forces, so progress is pretty slow."

"Shit, sir," I grunted with a humorless chuckle. "Looks like we've got our work cut out for us."

"Yeah we do," he agreed, looking up at the sky. Even through the dust and the atmosphere I could make out the little dot that was the Covenant supercarrier. From here it looked about as long as the tip of my finger, but the thing was a shitload of kilometers away and in orbit and I could still see it.

"You know," Smith said, leaning towards me. "I hear that SPECWARCOM is preparing a counter-op."

"Army?" I asked him. "Shouldn't this be more in the Navy's line of work?"

Smith shrugged. "Above my paygrade, El-tee. I just do as I'm told the best I can."

"Uh, Lieutenant?" Lady asked.

"What?"

"The ship."

I looked back up at the supercarrier and frowned, trying to make out something. The Covenant ship was there, but right in the middle of it was a bright black and blue circle that shone brightly even through Reach's atmosphere. I felt my jaw slackening enough that it dropped, leaving me gaping open-mouthed at the two surviving sections of the supercarrier.

"What the hell?" Smith asked to no one in particular.

"It looks like a slipspace rupture," Lady said.

I turned towards her. "How do you know how a slipspace rupture looks like?"

"My yacht has windows," she replied dryly.

"Of course it does," Ramirez muttered loud enough for me to hear.

"So the ship's gone?" Miri asked. She was one of the veterans in Team-7, but from time to time she still reminded me of the fresh-faced timid girl that had first come into my squad some years ago.

"Certainly looks like it," I replied. "Colonel, do you mind getting an open channel, see what's going on?"

"My pleasure," Smith replied with a smile, signaling for one of his men to do just that. "Put it on speaker!"

Several transmissions were coming in. Most of them were cries of near-ecstasy from satellite and space station crews. It quickly became very clear that the enemy ship had been completely obliterated by UNSC forces. I recalled an incident about two years ago. A colony ship en route to New Jerusalem had experienced problems with its slipspace drive. Half the ship just disappeared all of a sudden, leaving no trace.

"A slipspace bomb," I chuckled. Whoever came up with that is one crazy son of a bitch…

But despite what we were seeing in orbit, the situation changed. The reports of victory and triumph quickly turned into reports of panic. I heard mention of dozens of enemy ships and listened to the sources of reports began going silent one by one until just half of those remained. I looked up and saw no sign of the massive Covenant fleet that the Navy was speaking about, but the threat was clearly there.

The colonel's face had drained of color and he now looked like someone just died.

In a way, someone had. Seven hundred fifty million souls were hanging by their necks.

Hegy Valley and Hegy Lake had once been the image that sold Reach as a colonizable world. Valley gently sloped upwards at the sides and the tall green grass extended all the way up to the snow-capped peaks, the tallest in Szurdok Ridge. The lake itself was a beautiful water mirror that reflected the snowy peaks and green slopes. There was an iconic picture that I had seen countless times on the net or on tourism commercials. It was truly one of the most beautiful places in the planet.

And then the Covenant ruined it.

"We can't lose the pass!" I shouted. "If we let them come through they'll flood through the valley and the 12th Light Infantry."

I had twenty men and five Spartans working with me. Lieutenant Commander Smith had sent six Armadillos and an anti-tank platoon to help, he also left a sizeable force down in the valley to help the 12th. The Armadillos had with them ten soldiers each, and the Army troopers were already digging trenches for their 'Dillos and setting up machine gun emplacements.

"How long do we have to hold this pass for?" Pavel asked me quietly.

"Indefinitely," I told him. "If the Covenant take this valley then it's just flat plains until Quezon and Manassas."

"We hold the line, then," Pavel said.

"At whatever the cost," I told him. "Go set up with Dotsenko and Ramirez."

"Yes, sir," Pavel replied, tilting his head at me and pushing my shoulder lightly.

He ran down the slope and towards the dirt road, leaving me standing all by my lonesome. I looked through my scope, trying to see if I could spot anything. We had already used up all the ground-to-ground missiles in order to decimate the Covenant's armored support. I laughed when the little holographic missiles hit the little holographic Wraiths, killing them and the Covenant infantry around them. The Covenant had retaliated with limited airstrikes and some artillery, but we hit them first and eliminated most of their long-range artillery.

We still had several Wraiths and other vehicles to contend with, not to mention the tens of thousands of infantry soldiers ready to come and tear our throats out.

I had terrain advantage, sixty troopers, armored and artillery support, five supersoldiers, and the best twenty goddamned men that anybody could ask for. It could be a lot worse.

It could also be a lot better. I could have air support and a couple of tanks fighting with me. The six Rhino tanks down in the valley had the pass zeroed in and would prove invaluable, but having another six or sixty of those would've been great.

I grunted at the sight of Schitzo laughing at our predicament and slid down the slope and into the wide dirt road. At about twenty meters wide it was big enough that we needed two Armadillos to block it. The slopes on the sides were steep enough that no Covenant vehicle would be able to climb past it, but we still needed to watch out for infantry.

"Hey Lieutenant," Preacher checked in. "They're finally moving up. Snark's got a field master on his crosshairs."

"Nice little golden helmet," Snark said. "Want me to pop him?"

I considered it. "What's the range?"

"One thousand sixty meters and closing."

"Can you guarantee a headshot?" I asked.

"Sir, with all due respect, are you fucking serious?"

I chuckled. "Sorry, Fifteen."

"I'm back to fourteen ranked," Snark said. "I can guarantee a headshot." He fired and waited a second and a half. "See?"

"Haul ass back here," I told him.

"We're on our way," Preacher said.

Four minutes later the loud roaring engine noise of a Mongoose echoed through the mountain pass. I zoomed in on it and saw Preacher driving while Snark sat behind him, facing backwards and with his SRS resting against his leg. He couldn't have looked any calmer.

"Get ready!" I shouted, making my voice as loud as possible. "We see them, we hit them!"

Grunts and jackals were the first ones to show up as per the norm. The jackals formed triangular phalanxes and moved forward at a slow trot while the grunts hid behind them. They moved up about a hundred meters before the lead Armadillo opened up with its heavy autocannon, tearing through the lead covvies like butter. A few grunts with fuel rods appeared behind the shield phalanxes and aimed at the Armadillos, but Snark, Preacher, Miranda, and me had them hitting the ground before they could even get a bead on. I smiled, this was the part of my job that I loved the most, hitting the little guys hard before they realized that we posed a threat. It was amazing how often the elites drained their own resources before coming in themselves. But when they came, that's when shit got real. They hadn't earned their name for no reason.

"Redirecting!"

I liked when everybody stopped screaming and the nerves went down. Combat became this sort of cacophony of noises only interrupted by the occasional shout of warning or someone asking for support fire. It became almost magical. Nobody was panicking, nobody was crying out in pain. Everybody was just calmly killing the Covenant as fast and as effectively as possible.

It was art. It was the art that came before someone decided that the whole canvas was fucking useless and threw a bucket of black paint at it. That part came later, and plenty of panic and screaming came with it.

I tried to ignore the gigantic sections of the supercarrier that were burning through the atmosphere even as we fought. Bolivar had told me that the sections would fall close to our position, but not nearly close enough to be a threat. He told me to keep watch for any spare pieces that might squash my arm, but I think that the AI was joking. Two kilometric-long sections were currently burning themselves up, distracting us even if we tried not to look at them.

"Eyes front!" I shouted, hitting a jackal that had jumped on a foxhole. "Falcata?"

"We're here, sir," Jonah checked in.

"How deep behind their lines are you?"

"Deep enough," the supersoldier replied. "We set charges underneath a couple of Daemon tanks and a Wraith, but we haven't come across any marshals or elites with fancy helmets."

"How much longer can you stay there?"

"About twenty minutes, give or take," he replied. "Our cooling units are starting to wear off."

"Can you blast your way out of there?" I asked.

"Yeah, we'll stay camouflaged, they'll just be able to spot us if they use thermal."

"Ah," I nodded. "Feel up to it?"

"Yes, sir," the Spartan said, mirth coloring his tone. "We'll find someone to kill and make our way back there."

"Good luck, son," I told them. "We can't afford to lose you just yet."

"Maybe later then?" he joked.

"Maybe later," I replied. "Good luck Falcata, over and out."

I left them to their own devices and began sniping at the jackals again. Every now and then an elite popped up here or there, but they were quickly handled. The Armadillos had stopped firing at everything and instead conserved their ammunition for big clusters of Covenant soldiers or Ghosts. Already several burnt out husks were littering the mountain pass, making for great cover.

"Why don't we have a mortar detachment?" Caboose asked.

"They didn't need the target practice?" Snark suggested.

"He's got a point, this is getting ridiculous," Crow grunted. "I have a hole in my belly and I've killed at least ten covvies."

"Don't start calling out your kill scores," Pavel cut in before they began doing just that. "Focus on holding the pass."
I understood the frustration. Had we been facing a human force they would've long since given up. They wouldn't have thrown themselves at our guns that way in the first place. The Covenant didn't care if they lost 90% of their assets, they only cared if they won. Already there were some two hundred unmoving Covenant bodies in front of us. We only had a single casualty and it was a carbine shot to the forearm. The soldier that had been hit was patched up and ready to fight again. It was a massacre, and I knew that the longer this first part dragged on the worse the second part would be. More dead grunts only meant more angry elites.

"They're bringing in the squid heads now," Preacher warned. "I've got squads of elites moving up!"

"Remember the rule," Mata said. "White, red, and blue. Strictly in that order."

"Like the French flag," Pitcher said.

"You're fucking with me," Serge muttered.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Huh, got him to talk," Pitcher replied.

"And showed your ignorance as well," Lady said.

"Why the hell would I know what the flag of an Earth nation looks like?" Pitcher defended himself. "I wasn't even born in a country."

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask about that," Ramirez said. "What does your ID card say next to nationality?"

"The name of the station I was born on," the former Army soldier said. "Since it was a permanent settlement it counts as a country."

"Do you elect your own officials or something?" Dotsenko asked.

"Nah, we're under CAA jurisdiction, so they pick out our leaders. It's very much like the military, you know. Plus the AIs are the ones that actually run anything."

"It must've sucked," Lady said. "Watch your right."

"Nah, it was good," Pitcher told her. "How many kids get to say that they had recess in a zero-gee environment? It was fun."

"Well, I'm sure that Lady's papa bought her a zero gravity room when she asked for one," Payat chimed in. "Wouldn't want her little princess to pout."

"Fuck you," Lady told him.

"Wait, I want to know," Crow said. "Did you have a zero gee room in your house?"

"What is it to you?" she snapped back.

"Oh my God, you totally did," Crow laughed. "Wow. You're just so annoyingly rich."

"Get over it," she scoffed. "And stick to sewing people up."

"Will do, Lady," Payat said while Crow and Pitcher chuckled.

I looked at Miranda, who was sharpshooting next to me, and she depolarized her helmet. On her face was an incredulous smile.

Zero gee room? she mouthed silently. Really?

I smiled back and shook my head, gesturing for her to pay attention to the pass ahead.

"Sir, they're moving up their tanks," Preacher warned.

I sighed. The Daemon tanks wouldn't be able to hit our Armadillos unless they had a direct line of sight, and by the time they had that they would be exposed to the rocket batteries and our SPANKr-toting soldiers. The Wraiths, on the other hand, would be able to bombard us from below the slope of the mountain. That's what we had our Rhinos for, but we would need to use spotters to direct their fire. Falcata was probably tagging every Wraith there, but drones would've been more effective.

"Lieutenant, we're easing off the pressure," Jonah said.

"Thanks, kid," I said. "Try not to get killed out there."

The Spartan chuckled. "Will do, sir. Over and out."

I couldn't hear anything yet, but I knew that the Spartans were causing mayhem down there. And sure enough, a couple of seconds later I heard the explosions that signaled a couple of Wraiths blowing up. A few minutes later I heard more explosions, this time closer to our position. I knew that Team Falcata was moving closer and closer to where we were, making a shitload of mayhem as they went. I even felt the pressure slacken up somewhat as the covvies realized that their rear was being completely and utterly violated.

"Yay, rape puns," Schitzo laughed, firing a massive chaingun and hitting absolutely nothing.

"Lieutenant, we're coming up on your left side," Jonah-G012 warned.

"Gotcha, kid," I said. "We'll stop firing."

"What was that, sir?" Miranda asked.

"Falcata's coming up on the front and to our left," I said. "Focus on the right."

"Yes, sir," she said.

"Team-7, focus on the center and right," I ordered. "We've got friendlies coming up."

The word spread and I saw the Armadillos shift their fire to the right. A lot of covvies fell under the increased pressure, but the advance on the left started gaining momentum. The covvies began dropping shields and gaining a decent foothold before the invisible IIIs came up behind them and completely and utterly slaughtered the fifty or so aliens attacking us in a span of fifteen seconds. They left me wide-eyed and impressed. I couldn't really see anything other than muzzle-flashes coming from nowhere, but I did see a falcata sword materialize out of nowhere and lope off a couple of heads.

That was really a sight to behold. A sword being carried by an invisible warrior chopping of the heads of eight-foot tall elites was actually something funny.

"Damn," I muttered.

"What do they feed them?" Miranda asked me.

"How the hell would I know," I told her. I didn't even know what they had juiced me up with. "All I know is that it does good."

"Lots of the guys say that they put people like us out of business," she said.

"I wish that was true," I told her.

"Really?" Miranda asked, perplexed. "Why?"

"There aren't nearly enough Spartans out there to put us out of business. If there were, it would mean that we would be winning this war. I mean, look at those five kids. There's only five of them and see what they've achieved."

"Then what about us?" Miranda asked. She didn't sound angry, she just sounded curious. I often failed to remember that she was great to have conversations with.

"If there were more of those around," I said, gesturing to the now-visible Team Falcata as they jogged up towards our lines, "I'm pretty sure we'd be one of them."

"I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted," she said. "I mean, because I am an ODST and everything."

"I'm your superior officer Miranda," I reminded her. "Pretty much everything that comes out of my mouth is a compliment unless I'm not directly insulting you."

"You don't compliment us much, then," she said.

"When did you stop being so shy?" I chuckled.

She chuckled back. "Once I realized I wasn't the worst fighter out here."

I almost choked in an attempt to keep from bursting out in laughter. "Really, who gets the title?"

Miranda shook her head and shrugged slightly. "Calling someone in the team bad would be a pretty long stretch, but the way that Andy keeps getting shot…"

This time I laughed, but it was little more than a chuckle. "She did earn her nickname, I'll tell you that."

"She hates it."

"Why wouldn't she?" I asked her. "Everybody hates their nickname."

"I think it would be cool to have one," she said simply.

I stopped searching for targets and turned my head to look at her. "Really?"

"Well, I've always been just Miri or Miranda. Maybe having a nickname or a call sign would be nice."

"Miranda, you have no idea what you're talking about," I told her. "You're lucky that you managed to finish bootcamp without a nickname and even more lucky that you didn't get one later. People are mean."

"Thanks, sir," she said, sounding more than a little sarcastic.

"Miranda," I warned with a low growl. "Just because we're having a conversation doesn't mean that you're allowed to give me attitude."

"S-sorry," she apologized quickly.

"Now there's the Miri that we all know and love," I said.

"Sir, with all due respect, you're an asshole."

"That I'll admit," I said after laughing slightly. "Come on, focus on the Covenant."

"They're stopping," I muttered. "They're slowing down their attack."

"Looks like it," Miranda agreed.

"Pavel, how are we?"

"Good," he said. "Minor burns for our men and two casualties for the soldiers. One of those is KIA."

"What about the Armadillos?"

"Down to about sixty percent ammo, I think, but they're having ammunition sent up from the valley."

"Thanks," I said. "How are they doing down below?"

"Frank, I'm your second, not your bitch."

"Fine then, bitch," I said. "I'll fucking call them myself."

"Do your thing," Pavel said.

I sighed and opened up a channel to the major in charge of the valley fortifications. They were supposed to be digging trenches that stretched the whole two miles across the valley and setting up SAM emplacements. I knew that the trenches would be done by now, but I would hate it if Phantoms suddenly started dropping troops behind us.

"Major," I checked in. "Major, do you copy?"

"I copy, El-tee, how's it up there?"

"We fought off the first wave," I told her. "But they'll be sending their armored and whatever air support they have next."

"I agree," the major told me. "Castillo, I have the trenches all set up, but I'm getting some bullshit about logistical issues every time I call up the Brass."

"Sounds like them," I sighed.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Listen, the Rhinos are all set up, we can open up on the Wraiths anytime."

"I don't want to reveal their existence just yet," I said. "How are we on drone support and spotting?"

"Logistical issues."

"Surface-to-air?"

"Logistical issues."

"Ground-to-ground?"

"Logistical–"

"Fucking hell," I cursed. "Is there anything that we do have?"

"You've got your team, the wonder boys, my three-quarters-of-a-battalion, and a shitload of ammunition."

"We could do worse, Major," I told her. "We'll hold the line for you."

"Thanks. I wish I could send more men up there to help."

"We've got Falcata," I said with a small smile. "And if we lose this position we are going to need you to hold the valley for as long as possible."

"I know," she agreed. "I just feel like I'm cutting off my men up there."

"They're fine," I assured her. "Most of them."

"Yeah, I heard. Well, that's that, I guess."

"Yeah."

"I'll let you know as soon as Command sends us equipment. Oh, and it looks like it's about to rain."

I looked up at the sky. It was already nighttime, but the flames that came from the portions of the supercarrier that had crashed down here lit it up something. I had failed to notice the dark clouds that loomed over our heads. It looked like a big ass storm.

"What?" Miranda asked.

"It's going to rain."

"And here I thought it couldn't get any worse," she said.

"Miri, only Snark can pull off that kind of jokes."

"Ok, sir. And our support?"

"Nothing yet," I told her. "Trenches are dug and the Rhinos are ready, but that's about it."

"Yay."

"Yay indeed."

Overhead, the dark clouds ripped with thunder.

"Fall back!" I ordered. "Dotsenko, get out of there!"

"All right! Cover me!"

"Covering fire!" I shouted. "Fire, fire, fire!"

I emptied my magazine at the elites rushing his position. Even with the help of the flaming Armadillo the rain obscured my vision. I hit one of the elites, sending it backwards, where it disappeared from my sight. Plasma and tracer rounds streaked through the rain while Dotsenko made a run for it. Already we had lost two of our Armadillos and ten more men.

"Move your ass!" Ramirez shouted at his friend. "Hurry!"

Dotsenko slipped in the mud, narrowly avoiding being hit by what looked like a needle rifle. I searched for the offender, but one of the Spartans hit the alien first.

"Move!" I shouted.

Dotsenko got back on his feet and struggled to make his way through the mud that was reaching all the way to his ankles now. He slipped a couple of times but managed to stay up on his feet. Right before he got to the Armadillo's trench a blue plasma shot collided with his lower torso. He stumbled some more but managed to slide down into the trench relatively well.

"I'm alright!" he shouted. "I'm alright."

"Ramirez, check him," I ordered, observing the situation develop through my scope.

"Looks like second-degree burns," Ramirez said. "Burned straight through the armor but that's about it."

"Patch him up and get back to business."

The Armadillos were firing constantly, usually just stopping when one of the camouflaged members of Falcata was crossing their sector. The Spartans were a wonderful asset, especially in this lighting. They could make their way behind the elites and jackals and start slicing necks before anyone knew better. It was putting the elites on edge, but they had gotten better at it lately. Apparently some of them had thermal vision and were expressly searching for the IIIs. The Spartans had adapted by turning off their camouflage and not activating it until the very last moment.

"Sir, I'm seeing what looks like two Shadows moving up," Alex-G301 told me. Even with the robotic sound that her voice had I could tell that she was a young kid. They were all young kids, but you wouldn't know it by looking at them.

"You think?" I asked, frustrated.

"I'm pretty sure, El-tee."

"Can you hit the drivers?"

"Under normal circumstances…"

"Ok, so that's a no," I sighed. "Ok, just tag them for us and I'll let Bee handle them."

"Yes, sir," the Spartan said.

"Bee, you catch that?" I asked him.

"Yeah, sir," he groaned. "I got that."

"I'm going to need you to move fast after you fire, ok? You're going to have plenty of shit headed your way after you fire."

"Yes, sir," Bee said.

One of the Shadows opened up with its turret, hitting one of the Armadillos. The Armadillo returned fire, hitting the vehicle with its heavy autocannon. The Shadow was ripped to pieces in a matter of a few seconds, but the Armadillo's armor took some punishment as well. It started steaming up. Whenever that happened it usually meant that the occupants were in trouble.

"I got the second one," Bee said.

The night was lit up by the bright red laser. For a fraction of a second I saw Bee's silhouette outlined against the darkness and the Shadow being torn through by the laser. The Covenant vehicle exploded, sending pieces of itself flying in every direction and stunning the troops that it had dropped off. I got two grunts before the light from the explosion faded.

"Shifting fire right," Pavel warned. "Any of you boys out there?"

"Negative," Jonah said. "Fire away."

Pavel cut what looked like two jackals, but I couldn't be sure with all the rain.

"Ok, we're going to pull out the Armadillo," I decided. "Move back to the next trench."

"Yes, sir," the driver said. "On your command."

"Get the hell out of there," I said. Already we had taken out several grunts and elites with fuel rods and a couple had even hit the 'Dillo. The driver hit the reverse and the Armadillo moved about ten feet before its tracks slipped in the mud.

"What the hell?" I asked.

"Ah shit," the driver said. "One of the fuel rods must've damaged the treads."

"Ah shit," I echoed. "Can you move?"

"I don't think so," he replied. "Shit, sir. We're right in the middle of their killzone."

"Open the rear hatch," I told him. "The moment it gets too hot we'll cover your asses and you get over here."

"How about I get my men out of here and I man the guns?"

"Sounds good," I said. "Get them moving and we'll cover them."

"Thank you, lieutenant."

"No problem," I replied.

The two Armadillo occupants exited their vehicle, holding MA5Ks. Ramirez and Dotsenko stopped firing and went over to them, exchanging some words. They nodded to each other and Ramirez took off towards the nearest trench, narrowly avoiding being hit. He slid into cover and gave Dotsenko a thumbs-up.

"Covering fire!"

The two men sprinted across the muddy ground, rain getting in their faces, and jumped into cover. I sighed with relief when the two men made it to safety. Now only Dotsenko and the Armadillo remained in the trench, less than forty meters away from the enemy.

"Major," I said, contacting the valley. "I need some fire support."

"Roger that, Castillo," she came in. "Give me the coordinates."

"I want a flechette barrage two hundred meters in front of my position," I said.

"I have six Rhinos, Lieutenant, it won't be much of a barrage."

"Better than nothing," I said.

"Firing," she announced.

I heard the whistling of the shells and then saw them burst in front of me, almost directly above Dotsenko and the 'Dillo. The flechettes whistled loudly and most definitely hit some soft targets. There was some howling from the ones that didn't instantly die and then there were a thousand tiny explosions when the fuses on the flechettes detonated. Some eight or ninety covvie soldiers were killed in three seconds alone, with many more wounded.

"Dotsenko, now would be a good time to get out of there," I said.

"Negative, sir," he said. "I still have one man here with me."

"Sasha," I warned.

"Sir, I got this."

"Fine," I said. "Don't get pissed when you die."

"I promise I won't, El-tee."

The Covenant recovered from the attack pretty quickly. They started hitting our right side pretty damn hard and we got some Wraith fire on some of our positions. Their artillery stopped after a counter-strike from the Rhinos, but their infantry was hitting us hard. They had numbers and they had motivation. I don't know how they kept moving with three hundred corpses at their feet. The dead grunts weren't a terrible uncommon sight, but there were elites carpeting the ground as well.

They had discipline, I'll give them that.

"Sir," Spartan G301 said. "I'm seeing Banshees moving up."

"Fuck. How many?"

"A dozen, at least."

"Fuck," I cursed. "Thanks for the heads up."

"We got this," Tank said. "Sergeant Mata and I'll drive them off."

"Don't get spotted," I said. "Good luck."

The Banshees screamed as they strafed our positions. I ducked and prayed that no fuel rod landed on my ass. A trio of soldiers weren't so lucky. They were blown apart when one of the bombs landed right on top of their foxhole. The twelve fliers turned over and met Tank and Mata's missiles head on. Four of them exploded in bright fireballs, but the rest of them just strafed our line again, hitting one of our Armadillos and killing another two soldiers.

"Team-7!" I shouted.

"Pitcher was hit," Crow informed me. "It was a graze to the head, but it looks like it knocked him out."

"A fried brain isn't good," I said, quickly checking his vitals. "Andy?"

"I'll check him out," she told me. "Cover me."

"Cover her," I ordered.

Before the Banshees managed to turn around for a third pass three more exploded, cutting their numbers by more than half. The flight of Banshees decided that they had had enough and disappeared into the night.

"I hate this rain," I muttered. "Fucking hate it."

"Sir," Miranda said. "Are we getting reinforcements?"

"Not anytime soon," I said. "Shut up and fire, Miranda. You know what's gonna happen soon."

"The same thing that always happens. We get overrun, fight bravely and then fall back only to be saved by someone or other. Sorry, not saved."

"Link up with," I corrected.

"That's right," she agreed.

The two of us hadn't moved from our position in over six hours. I had pretty much considered pissing myself a few times. The undersuit could absorb and disperse my urine in a matter of seconds, but peeing myself next to a girl felt slightly dirty.

"I got to pee," Miranda said, as if reading my thoughts.

"Your undersuit can absorb it."

"You're not uncomfortable about it?" she asked.

"Not really," I lied. "I've peed twice already."

"Really?"

"No," I said. "Don't worry about it."

Andy checked in with me and told me that Pitcher was miraculously fine, but that his helmet was useless. The covvies slowed down their attack some, giving us some degree of comfort and allowing for additional supplies to be brought up from the valley. The Major and her men were pretty well supplied, but at the rate we were going we would leave them with only the magazines in their rifles. More than once the Spartans proved to be lifesavers. The five of them were all over the place, hitting an advance team here and then killing an ultra there. They were unnerving the Covenant, but that was about the only thing we had going for us now. If the Banshees were any indication, the covvies had air support now, and they would keep using it until we ran out of rockets.

Attrition was a fucking bitch.

Three of the Armadillos blew up and black shapes streaked past us, sending a shockwave through my body.

"What the hell was that?"

"Were those Seraphs?"

"How the hell did they get past the space defenses?"

"We aren't equipped to handle this shit!"

"Major," I said. "You've got Seraph's headed your way!"

"Seraphs?!" she sputtered. "How-"

If she was going to say anything else her words were interrupted when the Seraphs hit her position. I heard the explosions from down in the valley.

"Major? Major?!"

"I'm here," she replied, coughing. "How the hell did they get past our air defenses?"

"I have no idea," I said. "How bad?"

"I don't know," she grunted. "We can't handle them. We need fighters and SAMs."

"I know," I sighed. "Can you contact Commander Smith?"

"Yeah, but he can't help. They had him relocated to Manassas. The 12th doesn't have much pull with Command. Can you give us some help in that sector?"

"I've been trying," I told her. "I can't patch up to my ship."

"Your ship?"

"Yeah, I pretty much depend on the AI to survive," I joked. "Look, I'll try again."

"We need support right now Castillo," she said. "Or those things will just tear us to shreds."

"Ok, ok. I'll give it a shot. Over and out."

Miranda rolled over on her back and took a couple of deep breaths. There was a big scorch mark on her left shoulder pad. Again, her armor was barely ODST standard-issue. She was sporting a chest piece that looked basically like a thinner version of my ODST piece that was a lot taller and had a neck protector. Her shoulder pieces were some version called Scout, but at least the rest of her armor was standard ODST battle suit.

"You ok?" I asked her. "Did you take that piss?"

"Y-yes," she said awkwardly. "It's not that. I'm just tired…"

"We can't afford to be tired," I told her. "Miranda…"

"I'm fine," she sighed. "I'm just tired of this all."

"Don't go soft on me now, Novak," I told her. "I need you at a hundred and ten."

"Don't worry, sir. I'm not about to have PTSD."

"We all have PTSD," I told her. "I don't want you to shut down."

"What? We do?"

"To some degree or other," I confirmed. "According to Captain Flatt, that is."

"I always thought she was kind of a bitch," Miranda said.

I laughed. "Why is that? It wouldn't have to do anything with the way Grigori looked at her ass."

"Lieutenant, you know that us enlisted have privileges as well. I could have you court martialed for inappropriate comments towards someone of lesser rank."

I slapped her visor as hard as possible from my position.

"Are you gonna have me court martialed for that?"

"Sir. You are an asshole."

I laughed. "And you're fun to hang out with," I told her. "You're almost part of the club now."

"It's the almost that bugs me."

"It's the almost that doesn't let you insult me," I told her. "And don't tell Bee that you're part of the super exclusive club. He'll feel offended."

"I won't. I promise."

I sighed and looked down at the three smoking Armadillos. They were up in flames, the men inside were most certainly dead, and several of the soldiers next to them had been seriously wounded. Not for the first time I thanked the higher powers that my men weren't anywhere near the IFVs. The ones not wounded were helping the survivors, but right now the only thing holding back the Covenant was the five Spartans of Team Falcata and the surviving 'Dillos. They were really letting it rip right now. My own men were trying to get their shit straight. Pavel divided his squad into two fireteams and sent them each to one of the smoking wrecks. The Seraphs weren't about to waste another bomb on those and the trenches were still pretty damn useful.

"Dotsenko!" I shouted. "Get out of there!"

"I'm on it!" he replied. "You, driver, get out! Come on!"

I saw as the driver of the Armadillo stopped firing, silencing the autocannon. I traced them with my scope and saw them sprint under limited covering fire. The driver was hit in the back of the knee by a plasma bolt and Dotsenko had to sling his arm over his shoulder. They limped towards the nearest piece of cover. Two elites materialized right behind them, each with an energy sword on their hands.

"Miranda!" I shouted as I fired.

I hit one of the elites with a burst. It was a risky shot, going barely a foot over Dotsenko's head. The elite jerked backwards just in time for Miranda to nail it with a double tap to the head. The hingehead fell, dead, but the other one attacked Dotsenko and the soldier.

My man dropped to the floor, avoiding the first swoop of the sword. The soldier rolled away, but the elite seemed intent on finishing off Dotsenko first. Its shields seemed to be holding our fire pretty well. The elite slashed downwards at Dotsenko and the hit loped his arm clean off at the elbow. I heard him screaming all the way over here. The soldier got his rifle up and emptied his magazine at the elite, filling it with holes.

"Someone get them!" Pavel shouted. "Payat!"

Three of my men were there in a flash, and suddenly everybody was providing cover for them. Preacher and Snark added their efforts to ours and then my men dragged the two wounded fighters back to safety. Dotsenko screamed his ass out all the way through until he appeared to pass out.

"Arm was cleanly cut. Partially cauterized, not immediately life-threatening," Payat reported calmly.

"Good," I said. "Treat him and see about having him transported down to the valley on the ammo run."

"Sir, we have too many wounded," Payat said. "With the Seraphs and everything…"

"Payat, we cannot afford to lose this pass. The moment we lose it the covvies will flood through and get to two of the most heavily populated cities in this planet."

My speech, if you could call it that, served to remind my men of just exactly what was at stake here. Some couple dozen million lives were at stake, and I didn't even know if they were aware of just how threatened they were.

"Longworth, I need that radio here ASAP," I ordered.

"Yes, sir!"

We had one Armadillo left. Most of my infantry was still in fine working order, but by most I mean that only one in four men was out of the fight. The Spartans were still causing as much mayhem as they had early in the battle, but the elites were beginning to strike back at us. They were taking advantage of their superior numbers and shielding to move their line forward ever so slightly. Already they were using some of our fortifications as their own.

"Sir," Longworth huffed, climbing up to my position. "Radio."

"Thanks," I told him, grabbing the device and opening a channel to the UNSC Camerone. Whatever the Covenant had up there was giving hell to our signals. Already our helmets were beginning to have bursts of static on occasion. I tried about five times before I finally managed to get through. Our tight beam radios were truly wonderful for looking so freaking ugly.

"Camerone, Camerone, do you copy?"

"I copy," I managed to get in between bursts of static. "-ning up."

Abruptly the signal stopped buzzing and I got a clear line to the ship and Bolivar.

"Bolivar, the Covenant has fighter support, we need some Longswords in the air right now."

"I read you, Lieutenant, but HIGHCOM has decided that your operation is no longer a priority."

"What?"

"Sorry Castillo, they think that artillery and air strikes on the Covenant in the plains will be enough to evacuate Manassas and Quezon before the enemy gets there."

"No it won't!" I shouted. "The Covenant won't stop for anything!"

The AI sighed. "I know, but the situation is bad and Command is starting to lose its cool. They're using all available air assets to engage the Covenant fleet."

"Listen Bolivar, I'll tell you what. How about you get me two or three SkyHawk in-atmosphere fighters. I just need them to hang around for fifteen minutes, maybe score a kill or two. I want you to request Command directly, drop my name and my unit, maybe something about Sierra Team Falcata as well. Do it repeatedly and eventually someone will authorize it. We're not a bunch of meat that you throw away when things go south, goddamit!"

"Lieutenant, I'm doing my best, but what I'm getting back is not encouraging. They're claiming that the Spartans down there are just IIIs."

"Just IIIs?" I asked.

"Their words, not mine."

"Bolivar, get me the air support and that's it. There's gotta be at least one Longsword that won't lose much time if they help."

"I'm crossing some lines here, Lieutenant," the AI huffed. "There, you've got three Longsword fighters redirected to take out the Seraphs. I'll see about getting them to drop some ordinance on the enemy position, but it's not likely."

"Thanks," I told the construct. "I owe you one."

"You owe me another one," he corrected. "Good luck, El-tee. Over and out."

Half the length of the pass now belonged to the Covenant. They had paid for it dearly, but we couldn't keep it up much longer. Our ammo runs were becoming increasingly more rare and every time they brought less ammunition. This latest run only brought us two small crates of small arms ammunition in a transport Warthog. The 'Hog returned to the valley with four wounded men on it, one of them Dotsenko. My man was unconscious now, at least he wouldn't have to live through the worst of the pain.

"Well, at least you are now both amputees," Crow told Ramirez.

"Yeah, that's pretty fucking funny," Ramirez muttered angrily despite the rest of the chuckles from the team.

Black humor at its finest.

The two best friends were both missing a limb now. It was strangely fitting when you think about it. Ramirez and his mechanical leg would be matching Dotsenko and whatever kind of prosthetic he got. Humor or no humor my men were pissed. Dotsenko was our first serious casualty so far and we would do our best to make them pay for it. The elite was already dead, but that wasn't nearly enough.

Even despite our little ammunition problem we started firing more and more. We killed several dozen aliens before they started responding with the same volume of firepower. Unlike us, they were able to keep up firing at the same rate. They had over a thousand troops in reserve plus all the vehicles and ammunition that went along with it.

Three elites were approaching Pavel's position from a flank. I hit one of them, killing it with Miranda's help, but the other two managed to get into cover. I saw one of the Spartans approach and then disappear behind cover. A second later the armored figure reappeared on the other side, not having lost a beat. He moved up and then disappeared when he activated his camouflage.

I could catch glimpses of the Spartans here and there, they would deactivate their camouflage briefly and then disappear back into the rain. They were taking full advantage of their assets and were playing a nice game of psychological warfare on the covvies. I even saw a couple of elites start panicking when their friends were decapitated right next to them.

"Focus on the big ones," I told Miranda after she hit three grunts in a row. "The others can handle the gas-suckers."

She nodded and instead started focusing on the elites.

"Sir, I'm seeing a hunter pair," Snark called in. "And I'm about to get swarmed, so I'm moving out."

"Fuck me," I groaned. Hunters were the last thing we needed. They would move up, draw all our fire and the die. But while all that happened the rest of the Covenant would jump up at the opportunity to advance their line.

"Tank, do you have any rockets left?"

"Just the one, sir," he replied. "Tell me where to fire."

"There's a pair of hunters moving up," I said. "If you hit both of them I'll give you five hundred credits."

"For real?"

"For real," I said. "I'll settle for one."

"I'll see what I can do, sir," Tank told me.

I wondered whether the shock factor of the Spartans compared to the shock factor of the Hunters. Sure, an invisible warrior that would decapitate the guys next to you and leave you alone was something that you'd talk to your therapist about for years, but the thirteen-foot tall and five ton behemoths that came at you with massive cannons on one hand and indestructible shields on another were something that you wouldn't get an opportunity to talk about later. A hunter would more than match a Spartan for strength and their armor and firepower would compensate for their lack of raw skill.

Well, if you pitted two Spartans against one hunter in close combat was really something to watch.

"I see it," Tank said. "They're two spread out. It's only gonna be one today."
He fired at the closest of the two hunters. People seem to have this misconception about rockets and missiles and their speed. Your average rocket would cross a football field in less than half a second. If you saw an M19 missile flying at you, odds were that it was too late already. You might be able to duck, but you wouldn't be able to dive far enough. Hell, you'd probably still be in the air when the explosion swallowed you.

The hunter was crouching in a combat position, but Tank knew his shit. The missile slammed right into the hunter's cannon shoulder. The detonation tore the arm to pieces and swallowed the helmet and chest completely. Orange blood and flesh rained on the area around it.

The other hunter roared into the sky and everybody prepared for the onslaught that was certain to come. The hunter started charging, but unlike many others, it actually fired while it went. Several soldiers ducked underneath the blast, but the moment they stopped firing the hunter managed to get close enough for a second, more accurate burst. One of the soldiers was caught in the blast and immediately killed. I didn't have any men in that trench, and the machine gunners wouldn't be able to fire without hitting the soldiers too.

I started hitting the hunter with everything I had, but my rounds simply bounced off its armor and the few that managed to sneak past didn't do much damage. Miranda did her best as well, but it wasn't enough.

The hunter swiped its shield, sending one of the soldiers flying away in a heap. It then brought its shield back down, cleaving another of the troopers in half with it. Before it could strike again one of the Spartans, Eduardo-G271 appeared in the air above it. The kid had his massive curved sword in a reverse grip, holding it with both hands above his head. I saw the scene so clearly because a that precise moment lightning lit up the night sky. The Spartan landed on the hunter, digging the sword deep into the hunter's neck until only the hilt showed. Before pulling the sword out Eduardo-G271 fired his entire magazine into the hunter's head.

By the time I heard the thunder the hunter was on the ground and the Spartan had disappeared.

One Spartan had taken down one hunter with a sword. With a fucking sword. Things like that weren't often seen. I heard more than a few whistles of appreciation from the troopers and my men alike. I was left gaping myself.

I felt something squeeze my shoulder. I was grabbing a wrist and reaching for my pistol when I realized that it was a Spartan. Miranda-G192. Like the smaller and considerably less gifted Miranda to my side, this Spartan sported a DMR.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry for scaring you, El-tee," she apologized quickly. "I got hit in the helmet."

"No more camouflage for you, then?" I asked her. "What is it?"

"Jonah's comm unit is fried. He wanted me to let you know that we're running low on ammunition."

"Hence the stunt with the sword?"

The Spartan girl actually chuckled and nodded. "Eduardo's always been flashy like that. Says that he remembers a sword just like that hanging on his wall."

"Huh," I scoffed. "He could be Greek or Nepalese for all he knows. Kid, I need you to stay here with Miranda. She's your tocaya, so be nice to each other."

"What does that mean?" Miranda, my Miranda, asked.

"That both of you have the same name," I replied. "There's no word in English for it."

I moved back and then slid down the slope, leaving the two Mirandas all to themselves. I tried to move smoothly, but the wet grass was more mud than grass and the angle of the slope had me rolling down. I managed to stabilize myself and slid down to the bottom on my ass. The road was a mess, sucking my boots when I tried to walk and making me move considerably slower.

"El-tee, what are you doing here?" Preacher asked from the top of our last remaining Armadillo.

"Get out of there!" I ordered. "There's Seraphs in the neighborhood." I banged on the hull. "Hey, everybody who's not the gunner get out of there. Now, now, now!"

I heard the hatch open and saw to shapes move out, rifles across their bellies.

"You two, get over there immediately. Ask for Sergeant Mata and do everything he tells you."

"Yes, sir," they said simultaneously.

I looked up at Preacher, who fired twice and then got into a crouch before jumping down next to me.

"Get down!"

Before I could even drop to the ground I felt Preacher slam into me and saw the last armored car we had blow up, sending pieces of shrapnel everywhere. We flew about ten feet backwards before landing in the mud. I cursed and tried to get Preacher off me, but that was before I heard him screaming. Instead I scurried from underneath him and looked him over.

"The hell was that?" Pavel asked.

"Seraphs!"

I cursed again and then looked Preacher over. He had three pieces of shrapnel the size of my hand embedded in his back. I knew that there were probably smaller injuries somewhere in here or there that I couldn't see.

"Medic!" I shouted. "Medic!"

I checked the back of his helmet for any sign of shrapnel and breathed in relief when I didn't find any already he was beginning to put out unhealthy amounts of blood, with some of it even seeping out from underneath him. I pulled out one of my personal cans of biofoam and started rubbing it all over his back. It was too late to do anything about his internal injuries, but I could keep him from bleeding out.

"Hang in there," I told him. "Hand in there."

"I'm trying," he said through clenched teeth. "It hurts. I can't breath."

"You've got three pieces of shrapnel on your back, one of them looks like it went deep enough to puncture your lung."

"Is it bad?"

"Pretty bad," I told him. "But you're conscious, and you're in pain. That means that you're alive."

"Doesn't feel so good right now."

Andrea slid into a crouch next to me. "Sir, Gunny needs you to hold the line."

I nodded. "She'll take good care of you," I told Preacher.

"She'll just draw bullets," he muttered. Then he started praying.

I moved up, noticing the sudden increase in plasma and needle fire. With our last Armadillo out for the count we didn't have anything to give us any real suppressing fire and the Covenant would easily take swarm us with superior numbers. I ran past a limping trooper and jumped into cover with Longworth and Lady.

"Hey boys," I said, settling into a shooting position. "How's it going?"

"What happened to Preacher?" Lady asked.

"He'll be fine," I said. "I think."

"Magnet will take good care of him," Longworth said, firing his MA5. "Watch those jackals."

"I got them," I said, hitting them in the legs. "How are we on grenades."

"Pretty fresh," Lady said. "We haven't needed them so far."

We three were about a hundred meters from the closest aliens, but there were trenches and foxholes that were a whole lot closer. The Army jocks were pulling their weight, they were experts when it came down to static warfare and large-scale battles. Normally they also counted with air and armored support, but today they were infantry and nothing else. My men had been trained for a variety of scenarios and this was nothing new to them, but just because it wasn't something we weren't used to didn't mean that they were any less dangerous.

Three elites made it close to Pavel's trench, but he pounded them with automatic fire, leaving Tank to take them out with headshots.

"Hey El-tee," Kevin-G111 said, materializing next to me. "Jonah told me to lend some support."

I eyed the M247L he was carrying and nodded. "Who's still doing ninja shit?"

"Eduardo and Alex."

"What about your team leader?" I asked.

"He got nicked. His panels aren't working anymore," he said, propping his weapon on the foxhole's edge. "I'll take out shields and hit large groups."

"You heard him," I told my two men. "We do headshots and jackals."

"Yes, sir," Lady and Longworth replied.

Kevin was like a wonder boy. Every single shot that he fired hit a target. No matter how fast it was moving or how awkward the angle was he hit the mark. I don't think I saw him miss one single bullet. After he had drained an elite's shields one of us would take it out. I racked up a dozen kills in half an hour, but soon enough we had to give up on some targets, we had to let a few covvies advance in order to take out the more valuable targets.

"Sir, we're going to have to fall back," Caboose said.

"We'll cover you," Pavel told him. "Give me the word."

Pavel's men opened up and Caboose and his men started running back to cover. I did my best to provide some support fire, but Caboose and the others were in the middle of it. I simply waited for them to make it to safety and then started breathing easy again. Two men ran into our trench and dropped a crate of ammunition into our trench.

"We've got seven-six-two and nine-five," one of them said. "Give us some cover, sir. Will you?"

"No problem," I said. "Where you headed?"

"First big trench to the left."

"We'll cover you," I said.

"On three," he told me. "One. Two. Three."

"Fire!" I shouted.

The two men managed to make it safely, but despite their efforts and ours' I couldn't help but get the feeling that things weren't going to improve. Things took a turn for the worse when two Spirit dropships appeared directly overhead and began dropping troops behind our position. I ordered Kevin to go back and told the two Mirandas to handle it. We couldn't afford to stop paying attention to the frontline. Hell, we couldn't even afford to have those three people addressing a separate problem.

"Shit Frank," Pavel grunted. "We're moving back."

I cursed. "Mata's fireteam will cover you. Caboose?"

"We can still hold for some time."

"Lieutenant, I have Ghosts and Wraiths moving up the slope," Alex-G301 said. She sounded worried, and when a Spartan sounded worried you knew you were in trouble.

The Wraiths made their presence known soon enough, but by that time our lines were broken and we were moving back in a very disorderly manner.

"Pavel! Get the wounded out!" I ordered. "Take Predator and secure the descent. Make it safe enough to have some Warthogs brought up."

"What about you?"

"We'll buy you time to set up," I said. "Us and Falcata."

"Good luck," Pavel said, taking his squad with him.

That left me with nine able-bodied men and five able-bodied Spartans, three of which still had camouflage capabilities on their fancy armor. It was better than nothing.

"Francisco, I'm starting to feel like you're wearing out that phrase," Schitzo said. "Anything is better than nothing, but that doesn't mean it is even remotely close to good or even close to halfway decent."

The guy had a point.

"Mata, take Andy, Bee, Lady, and Crow to the left slope. Rest of you, come with me."

"What about us, Lieutenant?" Spartan Jonah-G012 asked me.

I raised an eyebrow at that. If a Spartan was ordered to do something by a superior officer they would do it without question, but it was rare to have one actually ask for orders.

"You five stay with this 'Dillo and hold our center. We'll bring fire from the flanks."

"Yes, sir," Jonah said before ordering his men about.

"Start climbing," I told my fireteam. "Get up there!"

We got to a decent altitude just when the wave of Covenant infantry slammed into the Spartans. For a moment the aliens seemed confused that the Spartans just stonewalled their advance. Then they were even more surprised when they started getting fire from both of their unprotected flanks, courtesy of my men.

"Sir, we don't have much cover," Mata said. "Scratch that, we don't have any cover."

"We have the cover of darkness and rain," I told him. "It'll have to do for a good two minutes."

"I'm afraid that two minutes might be one too much," Mata grunted. "Let's hope Klaus can set everything up in one."

Three grunts, a jackal, and two dead elites later I found myself running for my life with my team right in front of me. I hated that I had to slow myself enough for them to move at my same speed, but I had the five Spartan-IIIs right behind me, making themselves large and visible targets.

"Just a little bit more!" I shouted. "Speed up!"

"Frank, we've got your 'Hogs here!" Pavel called out.

"Enough for everyone?"

"Yeah!"

I made it past two large boulders where Predator Squad was taking cover and jumped into a transport Warthog's back. All of my men made it safely before the Warthogs began driving down one by one. We bounced and slammed around, but soon enough we were far enough away that the Covenant wouldn't be able to hit us with small arms fire. Despite that I saw some Ghosts dart straight past Pavel and Predator and start chasing us.

"Lieutenant Castillo, do you copy?" Bolivar came in.

"Bolivar. Boy, you are a sweet sound right now," I replied.

"I'm afraid that I don't have good news right now. We're barely holding the line here as it is. We had to let a few enemy ships barrel past us just to hold out the rest."

"Hence the Seraphs," I muttered. "You wouldn't have called me if it wasn't important."

"That whole region has been declared lost," Bolivar told me. "Command is pulling out every asset in that region."

"What do you mean by that whole region?" I asked. "Bolivar!"

"The whole ridge as well as the neighboring valleys," he explained. "The Army is focusing their forces in Manassas and the Marines are securing Quezon."

"If we let them come through the plains–"

"They know, Lieutenant, but they can't afford to commit any more assets and risk losing them."

"Fucking assholes," I muttered. "Then why'd they send us here in the first place?"

"Lieutenant…"

"Doesn't matter. Where are we going?"

"Command won't be sending any evac your way," he told me. "You're cut off. My recommendation is that you abandon the valley, maybe leave some surprises behind if you have them."

"Bolivar, they can't just cut us off. We have a Spartan team here with us."

"They understand," the AI said. "And they don't care. I'm sorry Lieutenant. I'll talk to you when you make it to one of those two cities. Good luck."

The Warthog stopped once we were behind our fortifications in the valley. I looked up at the clouded sky and felt like stabbing the general in charge of the defense of this region. Being angry wouldn't do me much good so I calmed myself down and told the major exactly what was going on. A few minutes later the entirety of the forces defending this critical valley abandoned it to the Covenant because some fuck up there decided that we wouldn't be getting any support. No heroic sacrifices, no memorable last stands. We would just link up with the rest of the UNSC Ground Forces and hope that we survived this.

Thanks for reading this chapter.

Good morning Vietnam! Hey guys, I'm finally back from my summer camp. I was treated like a slave for three straight weeks, but it was certainly worth it. Had a fun time with my friends and all that summer camp stuff. Well, I'm back and that means that The Life is also back. The only issue is that, as you know, I'm in the middle of a huge move. I just got to my new house yesterday, but this new house is only temporary, so I'll be moving to another one in about a month. This means that the update schedule will probably be a little bit more sporadic for a couple of weeks. Plus, I also have to get back into the zone, it's been three weeks of me not writing a single word.

Well, other than that we've got some Spartan action as well as artillery, massed assaults, high kill-counts, and more than a few wounded men. Reach is the beginning of the lowest point of the Human-Covenant War for humanity and I really want to capture the desperation and horror that would be to face extermination, to have your most important military complex taken by surprise by the most massive enemy fleet ever seen. This was a fun chapter to write, even if I barely remember what this was about. Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading this thirteen thousand words of something.

Stay strong.

-casquis