Chapter CXCII: Manassas

August 15, 2552 (UNSC Calendar)/

Manassas, Ütközet Province, Viery Territory, Reach, Epsilon Eridani System

"There's always more than one side to war."

Half the city was empty and the other half was rapidly becoming anarchy. The police department had been successful in keeping the order so far, but at this point even the cops were beginning to start panicking. Imagine that your entire family was at risk and you somehow managed to make sure that they got out safe. Then what? Then you want to get out of there yourself so you could be with them. You don't want to stay behind with a few million people that you don't know, you don't care about your oaths and your job, you just want to get your ass out of there alive. I hear my men bitch about fighting aliens, joking that they didn't sign up for this shit. The thing is that they did sign up for that shit. These cops didn't. They didn't have the training for this and they were way out of their league.

"Frank, they're moving Dotsenko into the operating room," Pavel told me. "Doctor wants to talk to you."

"And Preacher?"

"He's recovering," Pavel said. "His lung is fine, but he's going to need a few days to recover fully. They have them pumped full of painkillers. Lady and Andy are both fine and Pitcher's head didn't suffer anything major. He won't grow any hair around his left ear for a while, but he's fine."

"How about you?"

Pavel showed me his hand and the bloody bandage wrapped around it. The blood on it was dry and old, which meant that his hand wasn't bleeding anymore.

"It hurt like a bitch, you know?" he said. "But it's fine. They put some of that sponge thing to plug it in. Docs told me that the tissue will grow through it."

"And they gave it to you for free," I said, smiling. "If there's anything good about the end of the world is that it tends to bring the positive side of people."

"And then there's the looting," he said.

"Yeah," I agreed. "But believe it or not, that's a minority."

He nodded calmly and shifted his weight to his left foot.

I sighed and stood up, securing my battered helmet under my left arm. "Did you manage to talk to them?"

"No," he said. "I couldn't even get a line to Esztergom."

"I'm sure they're fine," I told him. "Katie and Liz know their shit in this situation and your wife won't hesitate to shoot anything if it comes down to protecting Lavvie."

"She's a damn good shot, too," Pavel said. "How's the shoulder?"

I rolled my left shoulder and stretched my neck. "It's a little bit stiff."

"How'd you hurt it again?"

I sighed. "I don't remember. It started hurting once we left the valley."

Pavel opened the door for me and settled into step next to me. "We got out with everyone."

"Only because they didn't chase us," I reminded him. "I don't know why."

"Can't be good. They've been playing it smart so far. No unnecessary risks or big stupid moves."

"Who's to say that aliens can't have good generals?" I asked.

"Years of experience facing aliens with superior technology but inferior strategies," he suggested. "The elites are like hunters, Frank. They stalk you and surround you and scare you into making a mistake, but small-scale doesn't always translate to the big leagues."

"Baseball metaphors? Really?" I asked, sidestepping though a pair of stretchers with bleeding and unconscious Marines on them. "I thought that baseball bats were illegal in Poland."

"Please Frank, that joke is old. They were legalized over forty years ago."

I chuckled. "Making baseball bats illegal. That's stupid. It's like charging tanks with cavalry."

"What do you have against us Poles? That was a moment of incredible bravery and selflessness. And if you want to talk about Poland why don't you ever mention the great moments of our history? Like Grunwald and Kircholm."

"I'm just messing with you, Pavs," I told him. "I've got nothing but respect for the Polish people. Granted, you're the only one I know, but it's good enough for me."

Pavel stopped to look at me. "Wow, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Thank you."

"We might die any moment now, Pavel. I want you to know that."

"You kind of ruined it now," he sighed, "but thanks anyways."

"Just don't get used to it," I said. "Is this the room?"

"Yeah, this is the room," he confirmed. "Be nice."

"Have you met me?" I asked, walking inside the operating room.

There was an operating table right in the middle of the room with Sasha Dotsenko, still very much conscious, strapped to it. There was a doctor in a bloody lab coat and several nurses around, getting ready for the operation. Dotsenko looked weird without a right arm. It had been chopped off right below the elbow, but that was still a good fifty centimeters of arm missing.

"Hey, El-tee," he said, waving his bloody stump at me. "Come to watch?"

I nodded and squeezed his shoulder. "Yeah. You ok?"

"Just peachy," he replied.

I turned to face the tired-looking doctor and placed my helmet on one of Dotsenko's feet.

"Lieutenant Castillo," he greeted, gesturing for me to follow him into a small side room. "Good to have you here. Your man is so doped up on painkillers that he can't really be held as a responsible adult."

"He's like that when he's sober," I said. "What appears to be the problem?"

"I understand that you didn't recover his arm."

"Yeah," I nodded. "Situation was a little bit explosive at the time."

"We might've been able to graft it back," he said. "Doesn't matter. A mechanical limb will probably help him in this line of work."

"Agreed," I said. "You have access to high-end military prosthetics and the equipment necessary to graft them."

"Yes, sir," he confirmed. "I just needed you to give me the go and choose the prosthetic for him."

"I have a man with an artificial leg. It's a Lanning series. Model XII, I think. Great piece, pretty narrow, but strong and firm. It's even got clasps to attach armor to it."

"The Lanning models are very good," the doctor said, "but they focus on the lower body, they're not that great when it comes to arm replacements."

"What do you recommend then?" I asked.

"I'd opt to go for an Asimov Robotics limb," he said.

I whistled. "Those are pretty high-end."

He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah they are. We have this model right here."

I examined the prosthetic. It was made of four main pieces. The upper arm, a large elbow and then the forearm and hand. It was dark gray and I couldn't see any cables or exposed wiring that would be vulnerable to plasma fire. The only problem I saw with it was that it had two additional pieces that Dotsenko wouldn't need.

"Can you shorten the piece?" I asked the doctor. "My man still has his elbow."

"That's the thing right there," the man sighed. "We could graft the prosthetic as it is, but he has about three inches of flesh below the elbow, which would make the arm three inches longer. And that's adding to the additional length of this prosthetic in question. We didn't exactly have time to have one custom made."

"I understand," I nodded. "You want to chop of his entire arm?"

"No, of course not," the doctor said, waving his hands in front of him. "Just the elbow."

"Wow," I grunted. "He just lost his lower arm and you want to take a bit more?"

"Yeah," he said. "It's not just for cosmetic reasons. The cut, no matter how clean, wasn't exactly surgically precise. If we operate on his arm we can remove the damaged nerve and muscle tissue and make the process a lot easier. I promise that it'll be a lot less painful for him this way."

"He won't like it."

"He doesn't," he agreed. "That's why I brought you here."

"To talk to him?"

"Yeah," the doctor said.

I sighed and walked out of the small side room, carrying the prosthetic in my left hand.

"Dotsenko," I called to my man. "You see this?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're going to have prosthetic grafted to you, ok? You'll be able to tear through a brute's throat and chop through concrete with this shit."

"They want to chop off my elbow, sir," he complained, regaining some lucidity.

"They want and they damn well will," I told him. "This thing right here costs more than your car, my car, your place, my place, and our entire salaries for the year combined. The docs here have been nice enough to give it to us for fucking free."

"I don't want to lose any more of my body, sir," he pleaded.

"Listen," I said. "What happens if you don't get used to your arm? You might miss a throw with a grenade. You might take longer to reload. You might even lose some of your accuracy because your right arm is too damn long. These good doctor here is going to remove your elbow and then have a marvel of medical and military engineering for left arm. You understand?"

"Yes, sir," he said reluctantly. "I understand."

"Good. I'll see you in an hour and then you can talk to Ramirez all about it."

"Yes, sir."

"Good luck, Doc," I told the doctor.

"We'll take good care of him," he promised. "Now, if you'll just leave the room."

I nodded and walked outside after grabbing my helmet to rejoin Pavel. He was leaning on a stretcher with a dead man on it. He stood up and shook his head slightly.

"Can you even order a man to give up a piece of his arm?"

"I can order him to give up his life," I reminded him. "This way he'll be more effective and less likely to kill himself and anybody who's around him. Truth be told, he knew what had to be done. He probably didn't want to give the go himself."

My friend nodded thoughtfully and then shrugged like he usually did. "The rest of our wounded men are over here. You might want to have a word or two with them."

"And what about Command or the Camerone?"

"Nothing yet," he replied. "I did manage to get a message to Captain Flatt, but that's only because she was in New Alexandria."

"What the hell is she doing there?" I asked. "Never mind. If we don't get orders for another twenty-four hours and this city is still not under attack I'll see about getting to Esztergom and making contact with your family."

"A lot of the men have families and loved ones there, too," he said. "They'll be happy."

I grunted. I wasn't doing this to make them happy. I was doing this because I didn't know what else I could do. Normally we had very clear and concise orders with very little room for maneuver. I mean, with a unit called Asymmetrical Action Group you could expect high-risk missions with very specific objectives. The name itself reeked of conceit. Not to badmouth my own unit, but the AAG was supposed to be a scalpel, not a sledgehammer.

"Hey, sir," Snark greeted, getting up from his helmet. "How's it going?"

"Good, you?"

"Same," he replied, leaning on his SRS very much like an old man would lean on a staff. "The guys are in there. Mata and Caboose are chaperoning for them."

"And you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked. "My new nickname is Cerberus."

"Clever," I noted. "You good?"

"Arm is still a little bit sore, but I'm getting the hang of it."

I nodded and slapped him slightly in the chest before walking through the doors. Me men were crowding the room, some were sitting on the floor and some others were using empty stretchers as chairs, but Pitcher and Preacher were both resting in their own stretchers. Preacher was resting on his belly and Pitcher was sitting up with a huge bandage covering his head.

"Sir," some of my men greeted when I walked in. Most of the others just nodded in acknowledgement or raised their hands in greeting. We had had a very busy couple of days and the exhaustion was only just beginning to catch up with us. Some of my guys were more conditioned than others and could go without sleep for over 72 hours at a time, but the others weren't robots that way and instead were just sleeping their asses off.

"Preacher," I said.

The man slowly moved his head so that he was facing me and then looked up at me. "Hey, sir."

"Did I interrupt your praying?"

"No, sir. I don't often pray for myself."

"How selfless," I noted. "I'm not religious, but I pray for my own ass all the time."

"There's ways around it," he said. "I pray for all those around me."

"Oh that's sweet," Pavel said.

"The rules are very clear on that," Preacher said. "And if you're all safe and God's protecting you then odds are that He's protecting me too."

"Well, you certainly get some points for absorbing all that shrapnel for me," I said.

I grabbed the strap closing his hospital robe and undid it despite his complaints. He had three big patches covering the major injuries on his back plus several stitches covering his back. It was almost funny to see how the shrapnel had gotten around the areas where the armor was thinner or non-existent. He puncture wounds were concentrated in the shoulders and the area right above the waist.

"Hey, sir!"

"You've got a hairy ass," I noted while carefully lifting the biggest patch and examining the wound. "That'll leave a scar. It's a good scar though, chick's will love it. Hell, I'll even let them tell you that you saved my life."

"Thank, sir," he said, not sounding remotely pleased. He probably owed that to the fact that most of the guys still awake were making fun of his hairy ass.

I left him there without bothering to pull up his robe and moved up to examine Pitcher. He had a cotton bandage covering the side of his head and it was firmly wrapped in place with regular bandages. There was barely any blood in there, which was probably a good sign.

"You good?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he replied, nodding slowly. "My head hurts a bit. Doc told me that as long as I keep this covered I'll be fine."

I considered slapping him on his good side of the head, but that would be out of line even for me. Pavel squeezed his shoulder and congratulated him for not being a pussy about his injury.

"Lady, Andy?" I asked our two damsels in distress. "How are you two doing?"

Lady lifted her good leg up and flexed a couple of times before bending it back underneath her. "I'm all good, sir."

"Andy?"

Andrea pulled down her tank top to reveal a big gauze patch with some dry blood on it and gave a thumbs up. She got whistles and catcalls for exposing herself like that, but she dismissed them with a wave of her hand and went back to reading. It was hard to tell with all the armor on, but she had a pretty decent rack. Most of my team had their armor off, which explained the smell of sweat and dirtiness in the room.

"Isn't there a bathroom here?" I asked Pavel.

He nodded. "Yeah, right over there."

"Well, I'm going to take a shower," I told him.

"Yeah. I'll babysit them for a while."

I walked inside the rather large bathroom and took off my left shoulder piece. It was scorched from near-misses and there were tiny grooves where two needles had cut through. I tossed it to the floor and reached inside the shower to turn on the water. The showerhead sputtered for a few seconds before steaming hot water started pouring out. As steam started coming out I started taking off the rest of my armor, off-handedly checking for damage. My right shoulder piece was completely intact. Some of the black paint was chipped off and there was dry mud on it, but no structural damage. My helmet was quickly devolving into a relic, with most of the black paint gone and scratches all over. The black visor was intact thankfully, but that was mostly luck on my part. My chest piece had absorbed two plasma shots, the vest had taken some splashes and deflected some needles. My forearm armor had long scratches of varying depth and width that ran the length of them. My gloves were worn from punching. The belt-like armor that protected my belly and sides of my waist was pretty damaged on the left side when I had slammed into a bunch of rocks pretty damn hard. The thigh armor was fresh, I had gotten the new pieces on our way here from Sigma Octanus, but it still had some battle scars in there. The boots were just about done, but they would do the job for a little bit more.

I thanked God when my undersuit proved to be intact and then I stepped inside the shower with it. I slowly removed the undersuit and let the hot water hit me. I turned the heat down a little bit and finished removing the undersuit. I let it wash in the water for a few seconds before tossing it outside.

The hot water felt wonderful on my chest and shoulders. I could feel all my muscles relax and sighed happily, letting the hot water cover my body. I washed away the sweat and the blood. It never ceased to amaze me how many bruises I could get in battle. My right side was covered in a big blotch that ranged from black all the way to yellow. I had a pretty big bruise on my left shoulder and several scratches on my right hand. I never really did understand how I could cut myself when the undersuit wasn't punctured. My knees were blue, but they pretty much stayed like that. I was surprised that I hadn't developed calluses on my knees. I let my whole body relax and loosen up until the contact with the water started hurting my skin. I lowered the temperature some more and then started laddering myself with soap. I felt the pain when I went over the bruised areas, but this hot shower was doing wonders for me.

I felt a pair of hands running across my chest and opened my eyes. There was no one with me in the shower. I had hallucinated sounds and sights before, but I don't think I had ever felt something that wasn't there. I turned around and saw nothing. The feeling wasn't what bothered me, it was the fact that it was so familiar. Those non-existent hands felt very much like Hanna's.

I sighed and shampooed my hair, refusing to close my eyes no matter what. Once that was done I wanted to spend the rest of my life in this crappy hospital shower, but things didn't always happen the way you want them to. I grabbed the only towel and dried myself up after turning off the shower. Once I was done I threw my wet undersuit and towel inside the towel drier.

It only took about five seconds for the towel to be fresh and plushy and a little bit more for my undersuit to be ready.

I put on the bottom half of my undersuit and picked up my armor, bundling it up.

"Everybody listen!" I said. "If you can I'd recommend you take a shower. Three minutes tops."

"Damn, sir," Bee whistled. "How the hell do you stay in shape like that?"

I rolled my eyes and suppressed a satisfied smile. "The same way you keep those shoulders. I was born with this," I pointed to my nicely defined abs.

A couple of the guys chuckled. They were half a second away from taking their tops off to brag about their own well-developed muscles. It was practically a part of the job. We got all kinds of shots that made developing muscle easier and made our muscular tissue stronger. Then there was all that waiting time in the ships we deployed on. You didn't have much to do and your CO usually made sure that you were in shape.

To me and every single ODST and every single member of Team-7 workouts were a part of life. When we weren't in combat we were usually preparing for it. Prepare or die.

"I got the shower," Pavel said, shoving aside Crow. "We go in by rank. Nobody tell Snark."

The guys chuckled and Pavel closed the door behind him. I put my armor down and started by donning my boots, bending down to make sure that they were tightly secured.

"Damn, sir," Crow muttered. "You've got some serious scars on your back there."

"Yeah I do," I agreed.

"Where'd you get that one?" Longworth asked.

"I can't exactly see where you're pointing, Adrian," I said.

"The long one running across your back," he amended.

I sighed. "It's a good story, that one. Who's heard it?"

"I have," Bee said. "Want me to tell it?"

"Sure," I said, grabbing the right thigh protector.

"Well you see, back in the day our fearless leader was also a lowly enlisted soldier much like we were. I know, I know, it's hard to believe. Well, he and his trusty friend, Gunny Klaus, were fighting in the wasteland that was… ummm… that was…"

"New Constantinople," Miranda said.

"Right," Bee went on.

"I thought you were from Earth," Lady said.

"I was born there," I confirmed, "but I was raised there."

"Well, the El-tee and Gunny were stranded behind enemy lines alongside a small unit of Marines. They took refuge in a collapsed building and were ordered to defend the place."

It hadn't exactly been like that. We had been ordered to take out an enemy artillery emplacement and after we had done that the elites guarding them got pissed.

"Then the Covenant came at them with everything they had. A hundred elites charging forward with swords. Half were cut down by El-tee and Gunny, but some got through. Their leader, a massive elite in adorned armor, an arbiter."

"A what?" Tank asked.

"An arbiter," I said. "That's what ONI told me. I don't think they even knew what it meant."

Bee shrugged and kept going. "All the elites were defeated and all the Marines were killed until only our Lieutenant, our Gunny, and the big-ass elite remained standing. El-tee fired at the elite, draining its shields, but the hingehead batted his pistol aside. Just before it could kill him, Gunny blasted the elite point blank in the back, but this monster wasn't done yet."

I rolled my eyes and secured the left thigh piece to my undersuit.

"This arbiter forced El-tee to the ground and stabbed downwards. The kill shot was avoided, but the sword went through the armor. Gunny fired at the elite again with his shotgun, but the elite didn't fall."

"Wait, you mean Gunny fired point blank with an M90 and the elite didn't fall?"

"Yup," I said, reaching for my other thigh piece. "Big-ass elite."

Bee went on, acting the movements as he narrated them. He was a very gifted chronicler. "Our El-tee, stabbed and beaten up, got up and tackled the elite."

"No way, the El-tee tackling a hingehead? He never does that!" Marv said, pretending to be shocked.

"He stabbed it in the ribs and then pulled out his second knife and stabbed it in the shoulder," Bee said in ominous tones. "And that's when Gunny pressed the elite to the floor with his foot and blasted its face away."

I looked up at him. "How could you forget the planet's name?" I asked him. "It was your first deployment."

"Right," Bee said. "And the El-tee was so impressed with me that he recruited me into the original Reaper Squad."

I laughed. "That's partially true."

"And what about that one?" Ramirez asked. "In your shoulder."

"Plasma rifle," I said.

"Sir, you should give your injuries more credit," Bee said. "The El-tee was jumping from a watchtower that had been targeted by fuel rods. During the drop somebody got a lucky shot and hit him in the elbow."

"And I assume that you just machoed through the pain?" Polly asked with a sardonic smile.

"We didn't have much of a choice there," I said. "We were defending the last UNSC stronghold in Lambari."

"Heard about that place," Crow said. "Turned into a massacre."

I nodded.

"That was my first deployment," Tank said. "It was bad."

"And those three in your lower back?" Lady asked.

"You checking me out, Lady?" I asked, smiling.

"You wish," she muttered, going back to bitch for a few seconds before blushing and looking away.

"You're blushing," Ramirez pointed out, not missing an opportunity to take her down a peg. "Oh my, you are aware that relationships with your commanding officer are discouraged."

The team chuckled and laughed before I waved them quiet. Lady was evidently angry at them, but her blush said a lot of things and I couldn't help but feel flattered that a perfectionist bitch like her had actually enjoyed the sight of my awesome and manly back.

"These two up here," I said, pointing at the spiker wounds. "Were from a brute spiker. They hurt like a bitch. This knobby scar here, below those two; I got this one when a shockwave slammed me against a tree. I don't think I've ever been in that much pain."

"Funny thing," Pavel said, walking out of the shower with his undersuit on. "Piloting that ship was Frank's then girlfriend. Some of you guys know Marina, don't you."

A few of the guys smiled at that. Marina was a gorgeous blonde that happened to be bisexual as well. It was practically every man's fantasy. I mean, seriously.

"And tending to our so-called fearless leader was his future girlfriend.

I smiled. I could never forget that the first time I met Hanna I was in a pain coma and she was saving my life. She never let me forget that either.

"No way, that's how you met Hanna?" Andy asked. "That's straight out of a romantic comedy. With war."

"Yeah, that's how I met her," I confirmed with a smile. "There's a reason they call them angels of the battlefield, you know."

"Awww," Andy said, giggling.

"Who's Hanna?" Polly asked.

"I used to date her," I told him.

"Was it serious?" he asked me.

I nodded. "It was. She was killed in Paris IV. Just an hour before evac."

"Shit. Sorry," Polly apologized.

"Don't worry about it," I said. For a moment I remembered her fondly. I was glad that I could think about her without feeling guilty. Sure, when I looked back to our years together there was always some pain, but I could focus on the good parts and all the fun I had with her. I focused on the good memories.

"You're not going to tell them about the ribs?" Pavel asked.

"That one knocked the wind out of me," I said, watching Pavel roll his eyes. "A brute almost castrated me with a warhammer."

"Damn," Payat winced.

"Then it stomped on me. It shattered six ribs. I've got nothing but titanium there."

"And the most entertaining thing I have is a graze to the side of the head," Pitcher mused out loud. "What about you, Gunny?"

Pavel sighed and shrugged. "Nothing so theatrical."

"Show them the one in your back," I told him.

Pavel raised an eyebrow and looked at Team-7. "This that you're about to see is a privilege. I don't undress for anyone who's not my wife."

Pavel undid his undersuit and showed the men a massive scar bigger than my fist that was right next to his spinal cord, almost in the exact middle of his back. Then he turned around and showed them the equally big scar that came out on the opposite side of his belly, right below his navel. The entire room winced.

"What happened?"

"Total lack of situational awareness," I said. "And a beam rifle."

Caboose sighed and got up. A few of the guys turned to look at him, wondering what our mysterious fireteam leader would show us. I frowned slightly until I realized that he wasn't going to show anything. Caboose had pretty horrible scars. That's one of the reasons why he always had his head covered. I had also seen glimpses of scar tissue covering his sides and back. Instead he just walked inside the shower and shut the door, prompting a few of the younger members of AAG Team-7 to chuckle slightly.

"Well, there's this one time when I lost a leg," Ramirez said. "Want to hear about it?"

"Not really," Lady said, drawing jeers and taunts directed at Ramirez, who just chuckled and checked his prosthetic.

"We all know that Lady has flawless skin," I said. "Except for that thing on her leg, but the point still stands. Does anybody want to brag?"

"Hey Magnet, how about you show us your collection?" Payat asked.

Andy turned to look at him and raised a single eyebrow. The majority of her scars happened to be in the area around her breasts.

"You wish," she said. "How about you?"

"I've got a couple of leg ones," he said. "I'll show you all when it's my turn to take a shower."

Payat was a good-looking man, but nobody really wanted to look at his hairy legs and scars. Maybe if he had some of the scars on his chest instead of his bottom half then maybe some of us would've asked to see them. I mean, legs are probably the single most unattractive part of the male body right after the feet.

This still turned into a bragging fest. Everybody started showing everybody their scars. Lady got a couple of boos when she failed to show us her legs, but everybody else had at least some sort of combat mark or other. They were all bruised and scratched from our latest battle, which soon became the main talk. They all started comparing the size and color of their bruises. Most had bruising similar to mine, but a couple of my men had massive bruising that left even mine to shame. Just because I had the most interesting scars it didn't mean that I was clumsy and kept hitting myself on non-lethal objects.

It took about an hour, but after that time had passed everybody had taken a good, hot shower and shown off their scars to everybody who cared to look. After that hour had passed I felt a lot better about my body and even my overall physical appearance. I might've even gotten a semi-permanent smile on my face. I was finished with my armor long before Snark finally came out to the showers and I gave the order for everyone to put their armor on. We killed some time by talking and joking around, and when another hour had passed, I prepared to receive Dotsenko.

A few minutes after the two-hour mark passed there was a knock on the door and everybody turned to look around. Polly, who had been standing guard, opened the door with a big smile on his face.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said. "I introduce to you. Lance Corporal Sasha Dotsenko Two-Point-Oh!"

Dotsenko groggily walked in, leaning on one of the nurses that had operated on him. He was leaning on the nurse with his good hand, because the other one was a state of the art piece of military equipment.

"Hey," he said with a weak smile.

I looked at him and mirrored his smile. The whole team looked at him with confused expressions in their faces until Pavel started clapping. He didn't go for the slow clap, which is bad enough to be considered a sin in some jurisdictions, but it was still good. I started clapping and Ramirez started clapping and soon enough the whole team was clapping for him. Hell, even Lady was clapping and she meant it. Dotsenko smiled and hugged Ramirez before the whole team converged on him to slap his head, punch his shoulder, and tug at his new prosthetic. Dotsenko complained about the attention with a big half-doped smile before I finally gave the word for my men to disperse.

"Did you do the tests?"

"Yeah," he said, "but we kind of rushed through it."

I nodded and picked up his SAW from the wall it was leaning against. "Come with me."

"Yes, sir," he replied, following me to the elevators and then to the roof.

Manassas Veteran's Hospital was one of the tallest buildings in the east side of the city. Most of the constructions around were residential housing and small businesses. I stood on one side of the roof and placed one of my empty cans of biofoam on the ledge. I walked up to Dotsenko and handed him my silenced pistol.

"Draw and shoot," I told him. "You're right-handed, right?"

"Yes, sir," Dotsenko confirmed. He looked down at his new right arm and the gun he was holding in it. "You know, El-tee. It feels weird. I can feel my arm, like it's there and I can move it and everything. At the same time it feels like it's not there. Doc even said that I might feel like my real arm is there at the same time this metal thing is."

"I wouldn't know about that," I confessed. "I've never lost a limb, Sasha. What I do know is that you need to get over this, no matter how tough it sounds. I need you to be able to tell which finger is which. I need to know that you'll be able to flip me off, that you'll be able to pleasure your girl, and that you'll be able to pull a trigger with that hand. I need to know that you'll be able to elbow someone in the nose and aim appropriately with that limb of yours. And I need to know that you'll keep whatever you feel all to yourself."

Sasha sighed and twisted his wrist completely around at an angle that no human would be able to pull off.

"See what I mean?" he asked. "To me it feels like a turned my wrist far enough around to snap it, but at the same time it feels like it's fine."

I nodded. "I want you to shoot that can."

Dotsenko looked back up and nodded. His arm flew straight up and his artificial forearm moved slightly to adjust before he fired off two quick shots. Both hit the biofoam can, knocking it down the ledge.

I smiled and retrieved my pistol. "Nice. Now I want you to grab your SAW and load it and unload it as fast as you can."

"I usually do that with my left hand," he said.

"Use your right," I told him. "Go."

His movements were clumsy, there's no way around it, but he managed to remove the drum magazine and slap it back in the weapon three times in twenty seconds. That was quite an achievement for the SAW, but it was not up to par. Not yet.

"Now your left."

He nodded and proceeded to do the exact same thing in considerably less time. He looked up at me with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Not too shabby," he said.

"Indeed," I agreed with an equally satisfied smile. "Now come here." I offered him my hand. "Squeeze until I tell you to stop."

I squeezed back, but by no means I could compete with a robotic prosthetic. After holding out for a few seconds I finally gave the word for him to stop. I shook my hand and grunted at the pain.

"You've got a good grip, sir," Dotsenko said. "It felt kind of uncomfortable. I think that's the sign for pain."

"Well, you've got an even better grip. Remember that there aren't any safeties on your hand, you wouldn't want to tear your dick off during a rough session."

"Don't worry El-tee. I'm a southpaw when it comes to masturbating," he informed me, making jerking motions with his left hand.

"Great, same here," I said, offering my left hand for a high-five.

Dotsenko gave me the high-five with his own left hand and chuckled. He was a good man and he deserved better than this, but not everybody amputee could claim to have an Asimov prosthetic. Some of those new wave freaks would even willingly get one grafted to themselves. I offered Dotsenko my right hand and shook his prosthetic using a regular amount of force. Dotsenko shook back and smiled again. This time he didn't appear to be doped up on painkillers.

"I'm glad you're ok," I told him. "You're a good guy Sasha."

"Wow, a compliment from you, sir? This must be serious."

I laughed. "Just take it for what it is, kid. Let's go back down. And hey, Ramirez went through what you went through. I know that a hand is a lot more complex than a foot, but he'll understand better than anybody. You don't exactly have the luxury of a personal psychologist, so James will have to do. He'll probably help you out without you needing to ask, he's a good kid."

"Ok, I got it."

"Good. I also want to know if you feel like your limb is not responding."

"You'll be the first to know, Sir," he assured me. "I promise."

"Finally some good news," I told my men. "The first two battlegroups from outside the system just came in. They're moving in to engage the Covenant fleet in orbit."

"Yeah!" Bee shouted, prompting the rest of my men to cheer at my news. I smiled at their eagerness and waited for them to settle down.

"This probably means that we'll be getting new orders and new targets. Rest time is over. In fact, I want everybody to move down to the lobby, the police forces guarding the entrance are being redirected to the starports. Now we owe it to this hospital, so we'll stand guard for the time being. Reaper will stand outside the main entrance and Predator will guard secondary entrance points."

"What about me?" Preacher asked.

"You stay in bed," I told him. "We'll come get you if we need to. Pitcher, can you walk?"

"Yes, sir," he nodded. "My head's throbbing, but I can still walk and shoot."

"Good. Pavel, work out the details. Reaper Squad, on me."

I was surprised at the lack of people trying to get in the hospital. The ones that hadn't been seriously hurt opted to take their chances with a self-help clinic and head for the evacuation ports. Only people with bad injuries or broken limbs were coming in. Mostly parents with kids were trickling through. I let Bee and Miranda humor some of the kids in line, talking to them. They were both very different, Bee was boisterous and outgoing, but Miranda had a way with civilians. She had a pretty face and a soothing voice whenever she wasn't stuttering or cussing at the covvies. Point is, civilians tended to listen to whatever she said.

I walked past a line of people with my helmet's visor depolarized. I made sure to hold my rifle across my chest in as non-threateningly a way as I could manage. I smiled at some of the little kids and gave the occasional nod to the teen or tween that stared at me. ODSTs used to be held in the same regard that Spartans are. When those older kids looked at me they saw the guy that they wanted to be. It was a big weight once you realized that every little thing you did would make an impact on their lives.

"Sir," Mata said, swaggering next to me. "Up there."

I looked up to the spot he was pointing at and saw what appeared to be a falling object careening towards the surface. It was too far away for me to tell what it was, but at that speed it wouldn't take much longer for it to slam into the surface.

"It looks like a Spirit," I muttered. "Probably damaged in the upper atmosphere."

"Must have some control still left," he said. "Might be some survivors when it comes down."
I got my helmet to make a rough trajectory calculation and sighed when I was told it would crash about a block away from my position on the same avenue I was standing on.

"Take Longworth and Serge," I told him. "Make sure that no one gets near it and make sure nothing survived."

Already some of the civilians were screaming and pointing at the rapidly approaching Spirit. I rolled my eyes and had Bee and Miranda calm them down. The screaming stopped, but there was still nervous chattering and some crying from the younger kids.

"Hey," I told a little girl who seemed to be on the verge of bawling her eyes out. "Look at me. You're going to be ok, and your siblings as well. This is nothing my men can't handle. Ok?"

The little girl nodded and shoved her face into her mother's leg.

"Thank you," her mom mouthed, on the verge of panic herself.

The Spirit slammed down three hundred meters away from us and somersaulted some thirty meters before slamming right back down. Mata and the two others made sure to clear the Spirit before they started ordering the onlookers to stand back.

"Serge, clear the cabin," Sergeant Mata ordered.

I watched as Serge climbed up the wrecked dropship and opened the hatch. He looked inside, leading with his shotgun. Serge fired once and gave Mata a thumbs up while Longworth examined the corpses on the troop bays.

"All clear, Sergeant," Longworth called out.

"Sir," Mata reported. "You heard him."

"Yeah," I said. "Longworth, stay behind and make sure that nobody tries to grab a plasma pistol and blows their own brains off."

"Yes, sir," he replied.

I nodded to myself and turned back towards the line of civilians. "See? There's nothing to worry about ladies and gentlemen! Everything is going to work out of fine."

I practically felt the waves of relief coming at me.

A couple of hours went by without any major incidents. A column of Scorpions rolled through and I exchanged a few quick words with one of the tankers, but they knew just about the same that I did. The Covenant were preparing for a big assault on the city and at the same time made sure that they had all major highways and air corridors under their control. The UNSC was barely dedicating any forces to delaying action, instead focusing on civilian evacuation and reinforcing the city. We could take advantage of our knowledge of the city in order to do our thing and fuck their shit up.

A flight of outdated Gryphon fighters screamed overhead, leaving contrails behind. I shook my head. Those men piloting the fighters were going to do some serious damage, but their mission was as good as suicide. It was hard enough to match a Seraph's maneuverability and resistance with a Longsword, let alone an old fighter craft.

"Not good," Mata muttered next to me. "When are we getting our orders?"

"Soon enough," I assured him. "In any case, it all points out to a deployment in New Alexandria or Esztergom."

"We're not defending this place?" he asked.

"Nah," I shook my head. "This place is as good as gone, Mata. Sure, there'll be some heavy fighting and after the our and the covvies' forces are both reduced to nothing there'll be some more fighting, but the important battles will move on."

"You are a cynical person, sir," Mata said. "Very cynical."

"We're all cynical," I told him. "I just seem to voice my thoughts more often than not."

"We can agree on that one, El-tee. Sometimes you actually say what you're thinking about."

I chuckled slightly and looked at him with a curious expression. "I call it the brain-mouth filter. It used to be worse when I was younger. I'd literally speak my thoughts without noticing."

"I bet that was awkward, sir," Mata shrugged with a small smile on his own face.

"Most of the time it was. Complimenting a girl's body in a very explicit manner isn't as charming as it sounds."

"I wouldn't know, sir," Mata said.

"Ah, you're not that into women, right?"

"That is correct, Lieutenant," he went on. "And an androgynous man doesn't quite do it for me."

"Well," I laughed. "Your personal life is yours alone."

"Aw, come on El-tee, I was about to make my move."

"I'm flattered," I replied dryly.

"Anytime, sir."

I laughed, this time with more feeling. "You know, this is quite possible the most awkward conversation that I've ever had."

"Thank you, sir."

I was saved from having to come up with a come back for his deadpan sarcasm when I got a request for a transmission in an unsecured line. I considered the request for a second, but not a lot of people had my number, so it must've been something important.

"Lieutenant Castillo," I checked in.

"Hey Castillo, good to see you," Bolivar's cheery voice came in. "Well, not see you per se, but you know what I mean."

"Yes, I do," I confirmed. "And you know that. Now what's so important?"

"AAG is pulling all its teams together. We don't have much intel right now and there are Spartan units pretty much all over Viery right now and they're taking care of all the missions we can throw at them. AAG is going to be working as a rapid reaction force."

"Ok," I said, nodding. "You're telling me that all AAG teams are going to be in one place?"

"Except for a couple, yeah. Teams 1 through 30 are going to be all put in one place and then they're all going to go to different places wherever they're needed. You'll be doing mostly delaying action and decapitation strikes it seems."

"All right then," I said, glad to finally have anything resembling an objective. "You know where we are?"

"Yeah, jamming is not so bad. We're going to send four Pelicans to the Drake Naval Base. It's right in the middle of the city."

"Yeah, it's close by," I said. "Listen Bolivar, we're policing a hospital here and I would really appreciate it if you could have a small unit sent here. Just a squad will do."

"I understand. I'll see what I can do, El-tee. You and your men are supposed to be in the landing pads precisely two hours from now. Should be easy."

"Ok, I got it," I told the construct. "Thanks Bolivar. Good luck up there."

"We're kicking ass, Lieutenant," Bolivar said. "Over and out."

I relayed the orders to my men and got a few mutters of appreciation.

"Hey, sir," Bee said. "How about I circle around a couple of blocks and see about getting us a lorry. I think I saw a car dealership on the way here."

"You do that; if it's empty make sure to link up with the city's AI. It'll provide for us. "

"What if there's an employee there?"

"Tell him our situation and explain very carefully and tactfully that those pretty cars of his are going to be molten slag in a week or two."

"I can do that, sir," Bee said cheerfully. "Can I take Magnet?"

"Sure, take Andy with you," I told him. "I want you back here with two trucks in twenty minutes. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir," they replied.

I waited for them to jog past me and opened a line to the city police channel. "This is Lieutenant Castillo of the UNSC Marine Corps. I have twenty men guarding Manassas Veteran's Hospital, but we're being redeployed. If you could send five to ten men, it would be much appreciated."

I got a reply from dispatch. "Hey Lieutenant, how's the situation over there?"

"Pretty good," I replied. "People are lined up and aren't causing any trouble. There are a couple of hospital security guards that are holding the doors, but it's mostly us that's keeping them from panicking."

"I see," the voice on the other end of the line said. "I'll see about getting some uniforms over there in a litt– Whoa, I just got orders to send ten officers your way, Lieutenant."

I smiled. "Well, I guess that solves my problems then," I told him. "Thanks for the help. Good luck."

"Good luck to you, Lieutenant. Give them hell. Over and out."

Bee and Andy rolled by with a couple of large trucks. They were flatbeds for large cargo and didn't have anything to keep a guy from falling out, but if somebody fell out of a slow-moving truck it was probably because he or she was an idiot. I had my men move into one of the trucks while Miranda very calmly explained to the civilians that police officers would be getting here to defend them in case anything happened. She also made sure to point out that the Covenant wouldn't make it into the city for at least another day. It would be plenty of time for them to go into the hospital for a quick checkup and then move into the evacuation ports.

A lot of the adults lost it and started asking us questions, wondering where we were going and why we were leaving. Miranda did her best, but many of the civilians started getting angry.

I rolled my eyes and climbed outside of my passenger seat on the truck and onto the top of the cabin.

"All right everybody! Listen up!" I shouted, making sure to use my helmet's loudspeakers. "Are you listening?"

I got a few nods from the civilians and went on.

"My men and I are highly trained special forces operators," I said, enunciating every word very carefully. "We don't mind defending you civilians, it is our job, but frankly, there are better things for us to do than play security guard in a hospital line. Do you understand that?" I sighed and kept going. "We are leaving to a place where we can be more helpful and the officers coming here will be equally effective. They are trained to deal with situations like these, ok? There's absolutely no need to panic."

I wasn't exactly the smoothest talker when it came to helpless civilians, but if you say something with enough authority and charisma and people will listen and even believe it. It's a little something that I learned back in high school. It's a funny story, that. I wasn't the most popular guy, but I was good-looking and friendly enough. I went to a party where this drunk senior told me the secret for getting girls to make out with you. He very explicitly told me that it wasn't a good idea to order a girl to sleep with you, but it worked well enough for a lot of other things.

But I digress, my words seemed to calm down the civilians a little bit, even if they didn't completely relax.

"You've got a way with words, Frank," Pavel muttered, getting on the side seat of the other truck.

"Drive," I ordered Bee. "Easy on the turns, you wouldn't want half the squad to kick your ass because you drove them off the truck."

"Yes, sir," he replied. "Want me to play some music?"

I smiled and leaned back on my seat. "Sure, why not? It's been a while since we last heard your stuff."

Bee smiled and immediately started browsing through his library. I flipped the side mirror and made sure that Preacher was safe and sound. He was face down and a couple of my guys were grabbing him to make sure that he wouldn't need to exert himself if he started sliding one down way or the other.

Bee selected a song called Eternal Flame. I had heard this one before. It was one of those inspiring orchestral pieces, full of warmth and hope. Seemed like an appropriate choice when you considered the situation in the planet. Plus, it was an enjoyable song regardless. I leaned back on the seat and closed my eyes for a few seconds, listening to the song as the piano was joined by other instruments in a crescendo of sorts.

The city looked wrong. There was nothing that would jump up at you and scream invasion, but here and there was an abandoned care in an awkward position, a shop-window was open, a trash can overturned. We might've been traveling through a bad part of any city, but then there were some highly visible marks. Smoke coming from one building, a Pelican parked in a crossroads while its crew worked furiously to repair it. Families were still leaving their homes, packing their valuables into SUV trucks. The public service announcement was playing a loop, telling civilians to head to the nearest evacuation ports or to leave the city, heading away from the approaching Covenant forces.

The things I was seeing deeply contrasted the song playing inside my helmet. More and more fighters and bombers were screaming overhead. I could see Shortswords with their iconic triangular shape flying in formation, they were usually escorted by old Gryphon fighters or the newer SkyHawk strike fighters. So far there wasn't much military presence in the ground, but that was only because most of the UNSC had already pulled back, leaving some token forces to delay the Covenant and hoping that the Air Force would do enough with bombing runs. Most of the people were already outside of the city, but a couple hundred thousand remained, trying to find the means to escape what would soon become a death trap.

Drake Naval Base was not too far away from our position, but there were police roadblocks here and there. We had to stop for them, even if they let us pass as soon as they saw Bee's ODST helmet. The officers were beginning to get jumpy. Some of them asked us quick questions, most of them regarding the state of the civilian population. Some others asked when they would be allowed to leave their stations and save their own asses. I gave them the best answers I could and ordered Bee to drive through. Occasionally we would spot something that showed us that the Covenant were here. The Spirit that had crashed down on the street wasn't the only Covenant craft that had been shot down over the city. I saw a Phantom that had slammed into the side of a building and a pair of Banshee husks that were smoking on the street.

"Hold on," Bee called out. "Speeding up."

The next song on his playlist was called Protectors of the Earth. Even more appropriate. This one was not a song of hope, it was purely badass. It could've been played during a scene where the heroes are just beginning to fight back against the unstoppable enemy. We could've played it a couple of days ago, but we had already fought back against the Covenant and it hadn't done much good. Some of the younger members of Team-7 liked the song and rocked their heads back and forth in rhythm. A few of our more cynical members didn't say anything about the fast-paced music. I could tell that Pavel was worried, but I didn't know whether he was thinking about his family or something else. Andy, Marv, and Snark just looked at the cityscape. Caboose and Serge were inscrutable, but with their helmets on it wasn't very easy to see what they were thinking, especially when you considered that I had to crane my neck backwards to see them in the flatbed.

"How much more?" I asked Bee, eyeing the pad in my left wrist.

"Should be about an hour all things considered," Bee said. "Enough time to play some music, indoctrinate the team into my ways."

I chuckled. "Right. Don't play any melancholic stuff, ok?"

"I know my shit, El-tee. I got you." Bee rolled his neck around and sighed, tightening his grip on the car's wheel. "I'd catch some sleep if I were you, sir."

"Way ahead of you," I told him. "Wake me in forty minutes."

The entire truck shook when Bee hit what appeared to be an explosion crater in the middle of the speedway. I glared at him through my depolarized visor and he quickly apologized.

"I'll drive smoothly."

"We've got wounded back there," I told him. "And not one of those guys has a seatbelt on."

"Yes, sir," Bee said. "I'll be very careful."

I closed my eyes and let Bee do the driving.

"Sir."

I opened my eyes. I wasn't prepared for the sun hitting me right in the face. I grunted some curses in Spanish before grunting some curses in English. I stretched my legs and my back before opening the door and climbing down. My men were already helping Pitcher and Preached climb down of the trucks and moving towards the landing pads where the Pelicans would be coming down. Ramirez and Dotsenko were talking to each other, comparing their mechanical limbs and chuckling slightly. Dotsenko was still eyeing his arm uncomfortably, but when you get a state-of-the-art robot arm, you get over your loss a lot faster. Ramirez didn't have a limp anymore, but his walking was still awkward. The mechanical leg, no matter how good it was, couldn't imitate his walking patterns perfectly weird. It was not something that you'd immediately notice, but when you had lived and fought with a man for a few years, you could tell that something was slightly off.

Well, it didn't matter. He could jump pretty damn far with that mechanical leg of his and the suspensions it had meant that he could survive jumps that would leave most humans crippled. Physically speaking, a mechanical body was a lot better than a natural one.

"News?" I asked to nobody in particular.

"Not much," Pavel said, hopping off the other truck. "A small Covenant incursion in the suburbs. The cops handled it without too much trouble."

I raised an eyebrow. "Did they have any help?"

"The security systems in those houses told them exactly where the enemy was, they'd just fire through the walls. I heard it was quite impressive, actually."

"Must've been grunts," I said. "Elites would've noticed what was going on."

"There was two of those," Pavel went on. "They just never thought to look."

I sighed and smiled. "Serves them right, those fuckers."

I glanced at my watch. There were only a few minutes left until the Pelicans that were going to get us arrived. Seeing as they were sending four Pelicans our way I could only guess that there was another unit that would be joining us soon. The pilots would contact me whenever they arrived, but I had no way of knowing when the other unit was getting here. It would probably be around thirty men, certainly special forces. Hell, in all likelihood they were AAG like us.

"How you doing?" I asked Pavel.

"I'm good," he replied. "I'm good."

I nodded and patted him in the shoulder. "You know I'm here for you if there's anything you need."

"I know," he said. "Thanks Frank."

"Sir, Armadillos rolling by," Miranda said. "Pretty fresh paint on them, too."

I chuckled. That was about the worst insult you could give a tanker or any man who drove armored vehicles for a living. I saw the armored vehicles roll by and stop about thirty meters from my position. I started walking towards their position, slapping my rifle onto my back and gesturing for Pavel to walk with me. Caboose immediately stepped up and ordered my men to grab all their gear and set it next to the pads in a neat line.

The rear hatch doors to the Armadillo's opened and out came a bunch of men and women wearing different styles of armor and different color fatigues. I smiled, they were indeed Asymmetrical Actions Group. My helmet tagged them by their rank and last name. The colors floating above their heads marked them as mostly Army men. There were some sailors and Marines in there as well, with the Marines being the minority in the group. There was even one Air Force operator in the group.

One of the men stepped up, my helmet tagged him as Captain Nezarian.

For a brief instant I saw Yevgeny's face looking down at me, screaming orders to his men. A second later my vision was obscured with blood and Yev was on top of me, bleeding out and choking on his own blood. I must've stumbled slightly at the vivid flashback, because Pavel glanced sideways at me before taking off his helmet. I followed suit and offered my arm to Captain Nezarian.

"Captain Alaric Nezarian," he introduced himself, shaking our hands.

"Lieutenant Francisco Castillo," I replied in kind. "This over here is Gunny Klaus."

"Pleasure," he replied. "Now why does your name sound familiar, Lieutenant?"

I shrugged. "Your name sounds pretty damn familiar to me. Any relation to Yevgeny Nezarian? He was a Ranger, like you."

"You knew Yevgeny?" he asked, taking off his helmet. "You are talking about Lieutenant Yevgeny Domitrovich Nezarian of the UNSC Army Rangers? Killed in action in Asilon about eight years ago?"

"That's the one," I said. "He was one of my best friends."

"And a great man," Pavel added.

Captain Nezarian smiled. "Well, isn't the galaxy a small place… Yevgeny was my cousin, the closest to my age. I was drafted and he immediately joined. To protect me, he said. Of course we got sent into different divisions quartered in different systems."

I chuckled slightly. "Might be a little late, but for what it's worth, he saved our asses more than a couple of times. In fact, some of my guys here knew him as well."

"It's nice to hear good things about him," Captain Alaric Nezarian said. "But we can always talk about Yev later."

"Yes, sir," I said, nodding. "I've got several wounded in my unit, two of them serious. One of my men lost an arm, just got his mechanic limb."

"Relax," Nezarian said. "I'm not your commanding officer, no need to give me reports."

I smiled. "Well I'll be damned. Appreciate that, Captain."

"Call me Alaric, or Al," he said.

"Frank," I told him. "Where are you coming from?"

"We did a HALO about one hundred miles north of here," he told me. "All of our targets and then some were taken out right before our jump, we weren't informed of that until the unit that handled that was picked up."

"Spartans?"

"Spartans," Alaric confirmed. "They really did a number on the covvies, but had to pull out because of enemy air supremacy. The incredibly high number of Seraphs was something that nobody told us about either."

I chuckled. "Jumped into a grid with no targets and suddenly found yourselves with a target painted on your back," I said. "Sucks."

"Tell me about it," he scoffed. "We made our way out without firing one single shot and then came across a set of containers with Armadillos inside. They were supposed to go to an Army unit that got redirected somewhere else. Logistical nightmare."

"Yeah," I agreed. "I was wondering why the 'Dillos were so clean."

"Woah, might be careful when you say that," he told me. "My men are pissed that they didn't get to fight. Last thing I need is a rivalry with Team… Sorry, didn't catch your team number."

I cleared my throat. "AAG Team-7," I told him.

"Ah, I've heard good stuff about your unit."

"Thanks Al," I said. "And you're with what team?"

"Team-29," he said.

I nodded. "You did some work in Sigma Octanus, didn't you?"

"Yes, we did," he confirmed. "There were Spartans there, too. Well, with the way things are shaping up, there's no doubt that my men will get the action they want." He paused and sighed. "Reach, huh?"

"Reach," I agreed.

"What about your men?"

"Where to start?" I muttered. "We arrived to the system just when the Covenant began their invasion. We had to wait for a long time before we dropped. When we dropped the Supercarrier was still there. Did some guerilla work for a day or two and then we got sent to Hegy Valley."

"Postcard central, eh?" Al asked. "I heard it was abandoned."

"Yeah," I said. "We were bottling the Covenant, but HIGHCOM decided that stopping the Covenant advance there wasn't worth the resources, we pulled back and here we are."

"Sucks," he said, "but it might've been for the best. I hear that there are big troop movements elsewhere in the planet. If we give up Manassas we might just be able to save some of the other population centers."

"One of the biggest cities in the planet and we're abandoning it," I grunted.

"We're off to a great start," Captain Nezarian muttered, directing his eyes to the approaching Pelicans.

Thanks for reading this chapter.

Well, for starters, there wasn't much proofreading done here, so I apologize for any and all mistakes in here. Secondly, I do believe that this was a pretty long chapter for a non-action one, so I'm proud of myself.

In this universe everyone knows everyone. Maybe Al Nezarian will have another appearance or maybe he'll be brutally killed in the next chapter. Who knows? Anyways, we now have two guys with artificial limbs and a recap of scars and their origins. Some of my readers will remember all of them, I know I didn't. I have to keep a list of the scars and their causes because I know that they'll eventually come up.

I hope that you enjoyed this chapter boys and girls. If there's any character that you want to know more about, please tell me, otherwise it might be too late in a few chapters (or not, I guess it depends).

Stay strong.

-casquis