Chapter CXCIX: Arrivals
August 19, 2552 (UNSC Calendar)/
New Alexandria, Eposz, Reach, Epsilon Eridani Territory
"We should be bringing order to this chaos, sir."- Special Operator Third Class Chang "Preacher" Sun-Hoyt
I studied a map of the Sea District as we flew there, trying to get as much of it memorized as possible. The Sea District was something of an abnormality in New Alexandria. It hadn't been part of the original city planning. The port had once been separate from the city, not by much, mind you, but just enough. The people who worked there or some visionary businessman or other had started construction there. Most of the buildings there weren't much taller than four or five stories, a deep contrast to New Alexandria's skyscraper based architecture. The buildings there had also been constructed with cheaper materials. In short, the sea district consisted of short houses/small businesses of brick held together by polycrete. It gave the district a somewhat rustic appearance, but it deeply contrasted with the rest of the white glass towers on either side of them.
"There, Tower 58," Pavel said. "Tallest building in the district."
"Twelve stories. Impressive," Bee said sarcastically. "Not exactly tall when you think about it."
"Tall enough to die from the fall," Andy reminded him.
"No," I said. "Too visible. Marina, see any place you like?"
"There is a couple of old warehouses near the port. They look like they have old ceilings," she said.
I looked over the map again and sighed. "Alright. Here's the plan. We have two Warthogs for rapid deployment around the district and might be getting a Falcon gunship to help us move around later. We can't all stay together at the same time. Pavel and Caboose, you two each get a small fire team with you. I'll stay with Preacher, serve as sniper support."
"Are we using the Sledgehammer?" Marv asked.
"Not unless we have to," I told him. "Marina, drop Preacher and me off on Tower 58, then move to the warehouses. Caboose and Mata will bring down a section of the roof and let you park inside."
"Yes, sir," Marina replied cheekily, changing her course slightly.
"The rest of you are dropping in on Cross Avenue and spreading out from there," I went on. "Whenever we get reports of enemy troops you'll move in to destroy them. One fire team will engage while the other maneuvers behind on the Warthog."
"Simple shit," Pavel said. "Hard to mess up, do you understand?"
"Yes, Gunny!"
"Bee's on AA duty," I said. "Pilots will have to defend their own Pelicans. If all else fails we fall back to the warehouse and pull out from there."
"It's a little bit rough," Schitzo said. "But we don't have much to work with."
I nodded in agreement before catching myself. "We'll polish the plan as we go."
"This is your stop, Frank," Marina said, hovering her craft over the rooftop of Tower 58."
"Preacher," I called out. "Let's go."
"Yes, sir," he said, jumping down to the rooftop with one crate of ammo on either hand.
I hopped down immediately after him as Marina kept the Pelican moving over the rooftop. I landed on the rooftop just as the Pelican started speeding up and turned to follow it with my eyes as it descended towards the warehouses. I would've waited to see my men bring down the rooftop on the warehouses, but Preacher was already kicking down the door that lead inside the building. I followed him down the dark stairwell and into a surprisingly well-furnished apartment on the top floor. We started moving the tables into the corners of the building, making weak barricades to protect us from any counter-fire from street level. Once we had completed that task we waited for word from Captain Flatt. After five minutes had passed without an incident in our area Preacher leaned back on one of the couches and took a moment before leaning back forward and putting his hands together. Within a few seconds I heard him muttering prayers. A few of those were vaguely recognizable from my childhood in Earth. As soon as I began linking those prayers to my time there I began remembering all the things that I didn't want to and moved out of the room and into the kitchen.
"You can't repress it forever, you know?" Schitzo said, leaning against a counter.
I growled and opened the fridge, finding it almost completely stocked with food. I looked it over for a few seconds and decided to grab a pair of pizza slices wrapped in tinfoil. I smiled when I unwrapped them. Pepperoni. I took my helmet off and took a large bite, enjoying the taste.
"Frank, Frank?" my helmet said.
I sighed and put it on. "Yeah?"
"Please tell me you didn't fall asleep," Pavel said.
"I didn't."
"Ah, raiding the fridge, were we?"
"Yes." I admitted, still tasting cold pizza in my mouth. "What?"
"Caboose set up eyes for us. We've got three UAVs flying overhead us and a link to the security cameras in the district."
I nodded with satisfaction. "Good work. Are you ready to move out?"
"We're holding our position in the warehouse until you give the order," Pavel said. "Frank… there are still people here, not everybody left their homes."
I sighed. "There's not much we can do about it. The emergency broadcasts are still going on."
"Should we send somebody to order them to leave?" Pavel asked.
"Good point, how ab–"
Five red dots pulsed in my helmet's HUD. A moment later they turned form dots into Spirit-shaped tags. They were flying in close formation and only a hundred meters from street level. I followed their progress with my eyes until it became evident that they were going to land a few blocks away. The drop ships rumbled past Tower 58 and moved in a straight line down Cross Avenue. I ran towards the windows and followed their progress with my eyes. They stopped in three different intersections, setting down troops and vehicles.
Preacher immediately picked up his Enhanced Marksman Rifle and zoomed in on them.
"Brutes," he announced. "They're setting up."
"Let's hit them early," I said.
"Pavel, we've got approximately a hundred eighty enemy infantry in Cross Avenue. I see two Phantoms moving out to scout."
"Roger that, I see them," he replied. "We should be there in a minute."
"I'm bringing my unit around the back," Caboose said. "Draw their attention."
I looked at Preacher and nodded.
He nodded back and looked through his scope and into the enemy. It took him all of three seconds to find the highest ranking brute in the place. He fired twice, hitting the brute captain in its unarmored left knee. The moment the brute fell Preacher fired another two times, hitting its spine just at the base of its skull. The man muttered a quick prayer for the alien and then waited.
I watched through the scope on my BR55 as the grunts scattered and the Spirit dropshits moved up to search for us. They couldn't stay here long or otherwise they'd be shot down. In fact, two of them were hit by the SAM emplacements around the city just a few seconds later, one of them crashed right on top of the troops it had just dropped, crushing about ten of them underneath. The other five dropshits turned around and flew away.
"We're closing in," Pavel said. "Tag the brute majors for us, will you?"
I complied with his request, taking a moment to mark every visible brute major as a priority target for Pavel. I watched silently as the enemy divided into squads and started moving down the avenue and in our direction. A few of them made their way towards a building on the side of the street, but Pavel's unit got there just in time. Four men hopped out of the troop transport Warthog and opened fire on the squad, cutting it down in a matter of seconds. The driver and passenger moved behind cover and began setting up an M247 machine gun which they promptly used fire on the lightly armored grunts and jackals.
"Weapons free," I told Preacher. "They don't have the weapons or support to blow this building up."
"Yes, sir," he replied.
I looked through my scope and found a jackal rapidly moving towards a shop. I fired a burst, hitting it in the waist and leg. Once it fell I quickly switched to another skirmisher that appeared to be moving towards one of the few deployable covers that they had set up. I drilled this one in between the shoulder blades and then switched to a pair of brutes using an SUV for protection. They were firing back at Pavel's fire team, hampering their movements. I took one out with two bursts to the head and Preacher did the same for the other one.
"May your sins be forgiven," he muttered quietly.
I ignored his praying and watched as the covvies slowly took cover and organized an effective counter attack. The ones closest to Pavel had all been killed by this point, and the other hundred fifty enemy soldiers still alive were running through the street to provide support to their comrades. I traced a pair of grunts with my rifle before firing on the brute leading them. Three bursts was all it took for it to fall, dead.
Preacher, meanwhile, was having considerably more success. His heavier barrel and increased muzzle speed provided more accuracy and firepower than my own rifle could manage. It wasn't as much as a regular sniper would do, but it was bringing brutes down with just one or two shots. Seeing his success with the large aliens I dedicated myself to hunting down the jackals with long-range weapons. I was surprised that only a couple of the jackals present possessed focus rifles. They didn't get a chance to use them, courtesy of three bullets in the brain to each of them.
"They're starting to get hot and heavy," Pavel said. "We've got sturdy cover, but they outnumber us."
I could see that. The covvies were all massing near Pavel's position, peppering it with plasma and needles. Only a few brutes remained, and Pavel's fire team was handling those that remained with semi-guided grenade launchers. Miri seemed to be having fun while she used her new attachment, calling out her kills in a giddy voice. I couldn't help but roll my eyes as she bisected a brute with her latest shots.
Still, they couldn't hold their position and expect to survive when they were outnumbered this badly. Six men are usually not a match for a hundred, no matter how good they are. I began mentally urging for Caboose to hurry up.
I was not disappointed. He appeared around a corner and moved into Cross Avenue with and M247 already mounted on the cage of the transport Warthog they were driving. Marv opened up with the machine gun while Dotsenko used his SAW to hit the enemies from behind. The covvie forces had massed themselves in between two streets and now had no way out. To escape they'd have to go through my men, and I knew Team-7 well enough that nobody went through us unless we let them.
The aliens began panicking. Sure, they were still outnumbering us by a hundred or so men, but they didn't have any weaponry and most of their leaders were dead. We had the benefit of UAV support as well as five machine guns with plenty of ammunition. My men fired indiscriminately into the mob of alien infantry, killing mostly grunts and jackals. A rocket flew out from Bee's launcher and destroyed one Ghost, killing two jackals next to it in the explosion. After that point everything went from bad to worse for the covvies. Their leaders hadn't even bothered with cover in the first place and they had been dropped in an eight-lane avenue with nothing but the occasional abandoned car for cover. After the brutes were gone the grunts and jackals did their best to survive and fight back, but my men were angry and indiscriminate. In the end we probably took longer than we should've and wasted more ammunition than was really necessary, but every last one of the hundred eighty Covenant soldiers that had been dropped was dead.
"Ten minutes," Bee said. "Must be some kind of record."
"Don't get too excited," Caboose told him. "El-tee and I still hold that one."
I chuckled over Preachers quiet prayers.
"Good work Preacher," I said as soon as he finished mumbling. "Nice aiming."
"Thanks, sir," he replied. "You too."
I nodded in acknowledgement and checked my empty magazine. Over the course of the last ten minutes I had burned through three magazines worth of ammunition. Preacher had done the same with four of his. We set ourselves to filling our empty mags with the 9.5mm ammo that we had brought from the Pelican.
"Move out," Pavel ordered. "Back to cover."
My men got up and slowly moved back towards the Warthogs. At no moment did they stop aiming at the carpet of corpses in the street. A grunts may fake its death in order to survive, but a brute may collapse from pain and injuries only to suddenly decided that it's still got a little bit of fight left in it.
"You keep praying for them," I told Preacher. "Why?"
"You know why, sir," he replied, setting one magazine aside and picking up another one.
"Just in case they have souls," I said. "But even if they did, do you think that they deserve to be forgiven?"
"God forgives all."
"I remember that one," I said, once again uncomfortable with my childhood memories. "But I also remember that you have to be repentant in order to be forgiven."
"Ah, you're a Catholic," Preacher noted.
"What? Aren't you?"
"Technically, yeah," he said with a small smile, "but I have a little different set of believes than most other Catholics do."
"I think everybody does," I said with a half-hearted chuckle. "Not even the pope herself complies with every single dogma of the church."
"True," he admitted. "I believe that it is our surroundings that are evil, not ourselves."
"I get where you're coming from," I said. "But the Covenant? They live to kill us and don't treat each other particularly well either."
"Think about the grunts, sir. Do you think they enjoy this?"
"No," I said. "But I've seen them enjoy butchering unarmed civilians."
Preacher laughed. "You're tough to argue with."
"I'm always right," I told him. "Of course I'm hard to argue with."
He chuckled some more. "Well, let me tell you how I feel about it. I don't think that every soul is born a sinner, quite the opposite actually. I think that every soul is good and it is its surroundings that mold it to be a sinner. But at the heart of it, everybody is a good person and in turn will regret any wrongdoing when the time comes."
"I've seen amazing displays of human generosity in this war, "I said in agreement. "But I've also seen the worst that we have to offer."
He nodded. "I don't have all the answers, sir. I'm not supposed to. That's part of what makes me so happy of having my faith. I truly believe that people are good and will keep on believing that no matter what."
"Let's say all people are good," I said, truly wanting to believe it as much as he did. "Them? The aliens?"
Preacher frowned deeply. "That's the problem, sir. I haven't seen anything to indicate that there's any good in them. They fight together, true enough, they care for their own men, also true, but they don't behave like I would expect good people to. Maybe it's just that they are so different, biologically and psychologically, from us that our morals and beliefs aren't compatible."
"You're saying that they are evil then," I half-asked.
"I'm only saying that they haven't shown any good yet."
"So why do you keep praying?"
"If I am wrong and these aliens, these Covenant races, are good, then their souls are deserving of forgiveness."
"Old Testament God would disagree with you. As do I."
"Old Testament God is kind of a dick," Preacher said. "As are you."
I grumbled under my breath, not wanting to laugh and trying to appear offended. "If you ask me, they are going to meet those cruel gods of theirs and will be punished for failing their task to exterminate us."
"They haven't failed yet," Preacher said, rather grimly.
"They haven't succeeded either."
"Funny world we live in, eh El-tee?"
"Funny isn't the word I would use," I told him.
"Good point, sir. Good point."
We settled into a slightly uncomfortable silence, neither of us wanting to keep the debate going. Our points of view were incredibly different. I hated the Covenant, I hated everything about them. They had killed my uncle, asshole that he was, they had killed Scarecrow, they had killed Almers, and they had killed Hanna, Emily, and Doctor Vinter. They had killed Polly, and Sandor, and Hoff, and Han, and Reeves, and Zepeda and more. They wouldn't stop until every last human being was dead. They were evil, there was no way around it.
Preacher, an oriental-looking man with a decidedly western mindset disagreed with me. He believed that they were doing evil, but that at their core they were good.
"We aren't exactly paragons of virtue either," Schitzo said with a small shake of his head. "Think about all those children in the Spartan program for starters. Think about surrendering grunts, the ones that aren't sent to ONI for vivisection are executed without a second thought. And don't forget the occasional torture we engage in."
I never said we were good… How can we be good after all this?
"I shudder to think at what comes after," Schitzo said in his trademark mocking style. His tone might've implied joking, but his words worried me. What would happen to the human race if we survived this?
"Enemy signatures inbound," I announced almost tiredly. "Four dropshits. Phantom, Phantom, Spirit, Spirit."
"Roger that, El-tee," Caboose replied, sounding as professional as always.
"Hold," I said, muting the line. "Preacher, what do you see?"
"They're flying close to the ground," he replied. "No Daemon tanks this time."
I sighed with relief. "Wraiths?"
"Negative, sir. Just infantry this time… Scratch that, we've got a watchtower being carried there."
"Roger that," I said. "Caboose, we've got a watchtower."
"No armor?"
"Negative," I confirmed. "Are Mata and Marv back yet?"
"Uh… negative, El-tee. They've maintained radio silence so far."
"Have you heard any shots?"
"Not since I sent them to clear number 82911. It could mean anything."
I nodded. "I haven't seen any movement in the windows, but I have a hard time believing that brutes could be that quiet when killing. Odds are on our favor for now."
"I'm hesitant to agree with you, sir," Caboose said, referencing the fact that Reach was under fucking invasion.
I sighed. "They should have that building cleared in about two minutes. If you don't hear anything from them in five send Ramirez and Serge to check it out."
"Yes, sir."
"Caboose. We can't have any more enemy troops unaccounted for, you hear me?"
"Yes, sir."
"I tagged the dropshits for you, although I'm sure you can use the UAVs well enough for that purpose. Good luck."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll call if we need any help."
I cut the line and sat back down on the scorched couch. Tower 58 was no longer an option, not after the Covenant had unleashed a storm of plasma on it and dropped a platoon and a half on the rooftop in an attempt to take us out. In a way I was flattered, we had been taking out leader after leader since they showed up, but we were now in a shorter building, considerably less central to the district and had limited fields of fire. So far our strategy had involved Caboose's fire team luring the covvies into position while Pavel's team moved and attacked from the sides or behind. The problem was that we couldn't move fast enough before the Covenant dispersed. Right now we had as many as fifty unaccounted for enemy soldiers. I am certain that they were going door through door, killing any civilian that they saw while searching for us.
An ear-piercing scream interrupted my train of thought before being abruptly cut by plasma fire. Another civilian had been found.
"That one was closer," Preacher noted calmly, readjusting his scope to a nearby building. "They're pinning our location."
I nodded. "We might need another move soon," I said. "These impromptu flash suppressors are good, but we can't keep hidden forever."
After moving from Tower 58 we had both attached heavy silencers to our rifles, nearly muting the noise that they made when they fired. With the addition of homemade flash suppressors we were nearly impossible to spot. Nearly impossible.
"I've got eyes on an enemy squad in the alley," Preacher said. "They're crossing the street."
"Hold your fire," I said. "It's just three of them."
I followed the brute and two jackals with my scope as they dashed across the street. Instead of coming into our building they kept on going, keeping their bodies close to the wall. They remained in our sights as they moved slowly towards Cross Avenue.
A burst of gunfire from Caboose and my other men drew their attention.
"Fire," I whispered.
It was a well-rehearsed maneuver. Preacher had a more powerful weapon and so went for the brutes first. He fired three shots into the back of the brute's helmeted head, each one hitting within an inch of the previous one. The second shot overloaded the minor's weak shields and the third one cleanly punched through the armor and the brutes brains. By the time the alien had hit the sidewalk face-first the two jackals had both had their spines severed by my rifle. One of them struggled slightly, still not quite dead. I kept my eye on it for a while and decided against finishing it off. The jackal wouldn't be able to move by itself and didn't appear to have any headpiece with which it could transmit its location. Besides, they hadn't been facing us when we fired, so they had no idea where the bullets had come from.
"You've got three grunts moving in from your side," Marina broadcast a warning to Caboose's team. "They're coming through in about ten seconds."
"Thanks," Caboose huffed. "James."
"Got them," Ramirez replied.
I tried to connect the bursts of gunfire to my men's weapons, but the only one that I could make out clearly at this distance and over the cacophony of noise was Ramirez's saw. The mechanical noise that it made was clearly distinguishable even under these circumstances. The M247 that Serge was probably manning was running low on ammunition and so only fired in short bursts.
"I need two minutes," Pavel said. "Hold."
"Holding," Caboose replied calmly.
"I don't have eyes on you," I said. "I can't guarantee support from sniper units."
"When have we ever had that guarantee?" Bee asked with a small chuckle.
"Man's got a point," Pitcher said with a small laugh. "We'll be fine, sir."
I watched as the occasional plasma round, needle, and spike flew through the intersection and disappeared behind the buildings. I knew that Caboose's small team was right outside of my visual range. If he wanted cover he would stay where he was, but I couldn't provide support from there. If he wanted my support he'd need to move his unit back about fifty meters, exposing himself to fire from all sides for several vital moments. He could handle the pressure and so could my men.
"How do you figure Marv and Sergeant Mata are doing?" Preacher asked quietly.
"They're fine," I told him. "When was the last time you saw Marv make a mistake?"
"Outside of combat? Never," Preacher replied. "Sergeant Mata is a tough son of a bitch, too."
"See, nothing to worry about."
"Kind of hard to believe when you remember that Reach is under attack," he muttered. "Still, they should be about done by now."
"They've got two more minutes," I told him. "I'll start worrying after five."
He nodded and said nothing, instead opting to scan the windows of the various short buildings with his high-powered scope.
"Enemy unit, moving in to flank Staff Konstantinov," he said suddenly. "Five brutes."
"I see them," I told him, almost immediately spotting the huge aliens. "No armor on the minors. Leave the major for last."
"Copy," he replied.
"On you."
Preacher wasted no time and fired three shots at the closest brute. The distance was about three hundred yards, more than manageable with his EMR. I fired a fraction of a second after him, barely hearing the noise my rifle made with the state-of-the-art suppressor I had picked up at Mendez. The two brutes on the back collapsed almost noiselessly. Both their spines had been severed where the skull met the neck, rendering them completely useless hunks of meat. The other two barely had time to turn around before they died. This time we had to fire a couple of additional shots in order to account for our misses. By no means did we miss the brutes altogether, we only missed the spots that would bring them down immediately.
That left only an armored brute major left. Unlike its underlings, this specimen possessed power armor and fast reflexes. It dashed to the side, avoiding one of my bursts and crashing through a storefront. Unfortunately for the brute, the broken glass cut into its left leg, stopping it just enough for Preacher to fire two rounds into its back. The armor held, but the kinetic force pushed the brute back into the ground, where I helped take it out with sustained fire.
"We're going to need to move," Preacher said calmly after his prayers were done.
"Yeah," I agreed. "Take a pick."
"There," he pointed. "Five story building. It's got a tarp or something in the rooftop that we can use for concealment from Banshees and Phantoms."
"Sounds good," I replied. "You do realize it's across the street?"
Preacher turned and smiled. "I could use a little excitement."
We found ourselves on the exit of our current building just as Pavel's unit hammered the covvie squad Caboose had engaged from the side. I could hear the increase in gunfire and the desperate attempts of the covvies to fight back. I moved forward slowly, pressing myself against the walls on one side of the sidewalk and keeping my rifle aimed at the corners of every street and alley. Preacher did the same, aiming at the windows instead.
"Enemy unit neutralized," Caboose checked in. "I'm sending my men for Marv and Mata."
"Roger that," I replied quietly, scanning for movement. "Report in three."
"Copy."
I signaled for Preacher to stop and sneaked into a building entrance without actually going inside. I saw Caboose's Warthog drive past an intersection a few blocks in front of our current position and waited to see if any snipers revealed themselves when they tried to get a better look. As bloodthirsty as the jackals were, they weren't completely stupid, they knew that we were in the area and weren't willing to risk their feathery heads in order to get off one shot that would very likely miss altogether.
"Ok, I'll cross first," I said. "You got me?"
"I got you," Preacher said.
I sprinted across the relatively narrow street. It was only two lanes wide, but the lanes were big enough for a semi, which made it feel like a more daunting task than it already was. A shot rang out just before I made it across. I didn't turn back around until I was safely behind cover.
"Jackal," Preacher informed drily, his rifle smoking.
I nodded a quick thank you.
"Ready?"
"Ready."
He ran across the street while I furiously scanned for any movement. There was none. We moved to the building entrance and used our override code to open the door. It was clear that this building had been abandoned in a hurry, there was stuff strewn over the hallways and the first floor doors were all open. I took a moment to look at the grim scene and then moved down the hall to find the service stairs.
"Looks like we only have the main stairs," I told Preacher after a few seconds. "Your turn to go first."
Preacher sighed and strapped his large rifle to his back before pulling out a downsized version of the M7 SMG. It was basically the same model as the standard one, but the collapsible stock had been completely removed, turning it into a machine pistol of sorts.
We didn't bother with clearing every single floor. We didn't have the time. We did, however, make sure that we weren't ambushed around the stairwell corners. The climb must've taken two minutes at the most, but it felt much longer. Once on the top floor we had to travel down the hallways to a different staircase that led into the rooftop.
"Go," I told Preacher, letting him kick the locked door open
"Sir," Caboose checked in. "I made contact Marv and Mata. They were running a little late and Serge caught up to them just as they finished the job."
"Good to hear," I replied, climbing out to the roof. "Regroup and wait for Pavel to engage the other drop zones. Avoid any other engagements unless necessary."
"Not hunting down everything anymore, sir?"
"Negative," I confirmed calmly. "There's too many of them and not enough of us. I'll give Captain Flatt another half hour before requesting support."
"At this rate, sir?" Preacher asked me. "We could lose control of the situation very quickly."
I groaned. We had already lost control of the situation. The only reason that we hadn't been forced to bunker down permanently in a vital structure was because of the Spartan unit defending the cargo port itself. Those guys were being constantly harassed by dozens of Banshees and troops were dropped constantly in their position. The brutes saw us merely as an afterthought, but they still chose to charge our position because it would give them another angle from which to attack the Spartans.
"Why is Gauntlet providing civilian escort and protection?" Preacher asked suddenly. "Don't get me wrong, sir. I'm all for saving people, but aren't Spartans offensive tools."
"Spartans are very versatile," I told him. "They can be whatever you want them to be and make you look stupid while they're at it. You raise a valid point, however. They should be using them on offensive operations."
"They could very well be used to destroy the enemy base of operations west of the city. Pull them into orbit, drop them back down right on top. It would take five minutes tops and they would kill all the enemy leadership within a few seconds."
The ODST inside me growled viciously at that, but I managed to keep the hatred for the Spartans inside. I had long since accepted what I was, what I had been turned into. I knew and understood that Spartans weren't just things, they were things that we desperately needed and couldn't have done without under these circumstances. I would never accept them completely, they were pushing the boundary of what meant to be a human, but they were pushing it from the wrong side.
"Command is not clear on everything right now," I said with a minuscule shrug. "We probably know more than most UNSC generals right now."
"We do have top clearance," Preacher agreed. "It all sounds so frustrating…"
"It is," I agreed. "And there's absolutely nothing you can do about it."
He fired twice, killing a jackal sniper on a building opposite ours. The bird leaned forwards and almost went over the window and into the sidewalk, but its legs caught on the windowsill.
"Your silencer is wearing out," I told him.
"I know. I picked silence over durability. This thing isn't designed to be fired so constantly and so often."
"You could've grabbed two silencers."
"God provides," he said, "but one does not always take the advantage."
"God provided indeed," I said, smiling slightly at the thought of millions of weapons all neatly lined up in rows, arranged by purpose, caliber, type, and rarity.
"I'm engaging a small enemy patrol," Pavel reported. "My unit can handle it."
"Roger," I replied, frowning. Pavel had referred to the Covenant unit as a patrol. If the covvies were sending patrols out it meant that they were now coordinating here in the ground and could send out units to accomplish tasks in a semi-orderly fashion. We were already losing control of the situation.
"We've got air support incoming," Preacher said. "Three Banshees, flying slow."
"Bee, that's you," I said. "Keep an eye on them."
"Shit, they shot down one of our drones," Preacher informed me. "Must've spotted it visually. What does that make, the fourth one they shoot down?"
"Yes. Captain Flatt won't be happy about that." I sighed and opened a line to her. "Captain Flatt, this is Castillo."
"Flatt. Go ahead," she replied.
"We've got enemy air assets flying freely over our quadrant. Three Banshees. They've shot down one of our UAVs. I'm requesting an immediate replacement as well as six Hornets to knock them out."
"UAV is dispatched. Don't make stupid requests again. You know damn well I can't give you any Hornets."
"Yes, ma'am. The Falcon gunship?"
"I've already secured a vehicle," she replied. "They are working on bringing it back to working order. It was damaged."
"Scraping the bottom of the barrel are we?" I asked.
"Good thing come to those who wait," Preacher told me.
"Listen to Sun-Hoyt," she told me. "If you wait a little bit more you'll get to see those 'good things' that he's talking about."
"Ma'am, I'm going to need additional bodies soon if I want to keep this situation under control. So far we've been successful in denying the enemy a solid foothold, but they are showing signs of coordination that indicate they have a staging point of sorts in this sector."
"Do their troop drops give any indication of where it may be?" Flatt inquired.
"Nothing specific. All their drops have been made in a six square block area. They don't stick there, though. I've got some of the enemy on thermal, but they're bringing up jammers and sticking to buildings. The UAVs can't help us with that."
"I'll work on getting you satellite imaging," she said. "And those reinforcements you asked for are prepping up. You're getting the survivors of A Company, from Mendez Joint Base."
"Sounds good," I said. "Armored?"
"Two Armadillos and a Scorpion."
I smiled. "Thank you Captain, I could kiss you."
"I'd rather you didn't," she replied, although her voice at least slightly humorous. "Flatt out."
"God provides," Preacher said, looking at me with a smile.
"Indeed," I said. "And right now he's providing targets. Ten o'clock. Fourth story window, second from left to right."
"ETA for reinforcements is ten minutes," I assured Pavel. "Preacher and me are moving. Hold on."
"I'm doing my best here, Frank!"
I cursed. "Caboose?"
"We're still here," he replied. "The Covenant haven't made any moves yet. The rocket discouraged them."
I ran across a street and into an alley with Preacher on my heels. I shot at three grunts that appeared on the other end of the alley, downing them all with a burst each. I emptied my magazine and replaced it just as a brute appeared, firing a spiker wildly. Preacher took it down while I reloaded and the spikes bounced of the brick walls, chipping red stone over us. I turned sideways and faced a back door on our target building. I gave Preacher just enough time to switch to his downsized M7 and kicked the door down, leading the way.
"Clear," I called. "Secure the door. We don't want any surprises."
"Should I leave a surprise?" he asked.
I nodded and waited as he set a small anti-personnel mine. It would be powerful enough to kill a fully shielded brute. As soon as he was done we started moving deeper into the building to find the service stairs.
"Looks like the covvies were here," Preacher whispered, referencing the blood on the floor and walls. There were spikes and scorch marks all over the hallway, but no human corpses. Either way, the blood was a clear telltale of what had gone down here.
"Move up," I ordered. "We've got six floors to go."
We walked as quickly as possible, trying to maintain our noise level to a minimum. The higher up we went we saw less signs of violence, but a lot of the civilians had been caught while trying to escape and the bodies were outside the elevator doors or on the stairwells. It was a grisly sight, seeing women and children impaled by spikes or disfigured by plasma, but it wasn't a sight that we could afford to be distracted by.
"Frank!"
"I'm moving as fast as I can," I replied, doubling my pace into a full sprint up the stairs. "Hold on!"
I knew it was a mistake the moment my boots started banging on those metal stairs. The noise echoed through the building, a building that I very well knew was probably still occupied by the enemy. I heard a gruff and small roar before I saw the brute jumping from two flights of stairs above me.
"This is high enough," I told Preacher. "I'll handle it, you help Pavel."
Preacher nodded and disappeared through a broken door.
I raised my rifle at the brute as it jumped a second time, but the alien tossed a grenade my way while it was in the air. The spike grenade embedded itself in the wall against me, forcing me to jump back to avoid the explosion. I landed hard half a flight down, but the spikes and shards of metal all flew above my head. I aimed up at the brute, but only squeezed off one burst before the animal was upon me.
My burst hit its knee, buckling it slightly. The brute immediately threw my weapon to the side before bringing down the bayonets on its spiker down on me. I rolled sideways and drew my pistol, aiming it at the brute. It kicked my hand away before I could get off one shot, smashing it against the wall. I instinctively dropped the pistol and the brute let go of its weapons to grab me.
This fucker was faster than its massive size would lead you to believe.
I twisted in the brute's grip, loosening myself enough to deliver a powerful kick to its jaw. As the brute looked up at the ceiling from the impact I used all my strength to try and break free. Even enhanced it wasn't enough. I did, however, gain a small amount of space to maneuver with, and when the brute decided to throw me against the wall it didn't hurt as much as it could've. I ducked under a follow-up punch that shattered the wall behind me and drew my knife from my boot, stabbing the brute upwards in the chest.
Unsurprisingly, it wasn't enough. The brute roared at me and lunged, hitting me in the left arm and sending me spinning down another half flight of stairs. I drew my smaller knife from it's sheathe in my chest and threw it into the brute as it lunged towards me. The brute covered its face, but the knife went into its left forearm and bought me enough time to recover. At this point my already enhanced body had adrenaline flowing through it. Time slowed down some more, even though it seemed impossible at this point. I drew my last knife from the small of my back. In the process of doing that my hand brushed against something that my brain had forgotten about.
The shotgun.
I had already pulled out my knife, but my other hand was free. With my right hand I finished an awkward throw, barely nicking the brute's torso while with my left I drew the small shotgun. I handled the unfamiliar shape awkwardly, but the brute had slowed down slightly after two thrown knives. I jumped to the side and avoided being plastered into the wall. The brute recoiled from the impact. A moment later its head was splattered into the floor, ceiling, wall, and stairs.
"Whoa. That thing sure packs a punch," Schitzo noted drily, wiping blood off his face. "Lots of spread, right?"
"Yup," I said, kneeling down to remove my embedded knives. My small knife and Damascus steel knife were deep inside the brute's thick skin, the other one had bounced off and was on the floor, with some blood on the edge. I barely cleaned them as I put them in sheaths, instead rushing to sheathe them as fast as possible while gathering my weapons.
As soon as I had my pistol holstered and my rifle back in my hands I jumped over the brute and ran upstairs to Preacher. I could hear the faint voices of my men as the shouted and called out both kills and near misses. The voices gradually began growing louder and louder and increased in desperation.
"Preacher, I'm coming up on your six!" I warned as I entered the hallways. "Which room?"
I didn't get an immediate reply, instead I kicked down the nearest door and entered what had once been and uncomfortably cramped room for someone with a very limited amount of money. The bed was neatly made, but the rest of the room had been tossed, with clothes strewn all over the floor and various cabinets left open. Someone had left this place in a hurry.
The small window provided with a decent angle to my men. Otherwise it wouldn't have been great, but the covvies were all up in their faces. They were so close in fact, that Pavel had ordered the bayonets to come out.
"Movement right! Brute, brute!"
I transitioned into sniper mode almost seamlessly. My body was still shaking from the fight with the brute and the pain was only just beginning to surface, but once I focused on aiming everything else became irrelevant.
Pavel's unit was neatly arranged into staggered lines, using a storefront and two cars for cover. Pavel and Dotsenko were behind the storefront, spraying the enemy constantly with their machine guns. Andy had one of the edges of the cars while Miranda covered the other, leaving Bee to protect the center. The street in front of them was covered with corpses and deployable covers. The corpses were mostly grunts and jackals, but there was enough of them that some brutes had piled them together to form decent meat shields.
The brutes were fighting fiercely, suppressing the machine gunners with sustained plasma fire. One of them had a brute shot on him, but Pavel was making a fine job of keeping its head down. One of the attackers fell dead when Preacher fired through its head from one of the adjoining rooms. I quickly joined him and started firing upon the brutes. The aliens had been focused on killing Pavel's unit and had all but forgotten about the two snipers racking up their kill count.
It didn't take long for them to realize where we were firing from, but even then they had trouble finding appropriate cover. The rifle rounds easily pierced their thick skins, but the brutes were hard beasts to kill. They realized that they were going to die and thus began firing wildly at Pavel's men with reckless abandon. Both of the girls were nearly decapitated by plasma bolts when wounded brutes got too close to them and Dotsenko was nicked by a spike somewhere in his left arm, but he kept firing.
"Flight of Banshees moving overhead," Marina announced. "They're going fast and low!"
"Bee, that's you!" Pavel shouted. "Miri, Andy, get back in here!"
I started firing faster, buying a small window for the girls to dive through the storefront. I then began hitting the brutes as fast as possible, but they were coming from all directions and even with Preacher helping it was a little bit hard to knock them all out. Bee, however, didn't seem to mind. He calmly put his rifle aside and brought his launcher to bear. He calmly aimed at the direction the Banshees were in and then called for cover.
He stood up a second later, bringing his rocket launcher up. Even with my enhanced reflexes I was surprised by the speed at which he zeroed in on the fast-flying Banshees and fired. He let two missiles fly nearly simultaneously and they smashed into the fliers head-on. Bee calmly examined his handiwork only to begin panicking when he realized that the two Banshees would sweep through the street, squishing him against the pavement.
"Oh shit!" he shouted at the moment of realization. He turned and ran straight into the storefront, going in through the open window. The Banshee husks crashed into the street and kept going, leaving a trail of smoke, dust, sparks, and fuel behind them. The brutes didn't have enough time or presence of mind to get out of the way and were splattered by the debris.
"Looks clear from here, Pavs," I said. "Move your asses now."
"Roger that, Farnk," he replied. "Caboose, we're clearing out, tag known enemy positions for us, see if we can sneak up on them."
"Done," Caboose said after some moments. "Some speed would be nice."
"We'll try," Pavel grunted. "Come on, let's move out."
I stood up and moved back away from the windows and out into the hallway. Preacher had already done the same and had his rifle slung over his shoulder when I met him.
"We're drawing too much heat," he said. "If we keep pissing them off like this they'll end up sending a fleet of tanks."
"We've got a tank of ours on the way," I told him.
"Scorpions can handle a lot of fire, sir, but in urban warfare tanks lose most of their advantages."
"Stop being such a downer," I grunted. "We'll put troops on the buildings on either side, bring down some structures, make some chaos."
"We should be bringing order to this chaos, sir."
"Don't go all religious on me," I groaned. "Those fuckers invading my home are chaos and I can't exactly fight them with order. Fire with fire, Preach."
"I understand, El-tee. Still doesn't make me comfortable."
"Have you ever been comfortable fighting this war?"
"No."
I raised an eyebrow at his bluntness. Sure, I wasn't comfortable either, but I was comfortable with the reason and way that it was being fought. I was comfortable knowing that it had to be fought. I just hoped Preacher was the same way.
"Let's go lower," I said, changing topics. "Reinforcements are going to roll through Cross Avenue, we've got enemy concentrations in between Franklin Street and Green Lane. That means that they'll have to go through 7th and 8th to get to Cross Avenue."
Preacher was no doubt following a map like I was. "Sir, the only building with a nice vantage point in there is a giant bull's-eye."
I agreed with him. It wasn't as tall as Tower 58, but it was a large, triangular building with a bright white marble façade that drew attention like low cleavage.
"Do we have subway there?" I asked.
"We've got a stop half a block away," Preacher replied. "We'll be exposed all the way from the station to the building."
I glanced at my tacpad. A Company would be arriving in five minutes. We would be hard-pressed to make that deadline even if we took the faster route.
"Do you know how to jack a car?" I asked Preacher.
He looked perplexed by the question.
"Where would I have learned to do that?" he asked me. "Seriously, sir? Me?"
I cleared my throat. "Had to ask. You know how in Bee's movies hijacking a car is a simple matter of breaking a window and rearranging some wires or pushing a magical device into the key slot that will morph into the shape of the key?"
"Yeah?"
"No wonder we changed to more advanced technology. Who back then would've thought that jacking a car would become harder than hacking a government server."
"I don't know," Preacher admitted, "But it sure did lower theft numbers."
The subway entrance had a couple of corpses there where two women had tried to escape inside only to be hit before they made it. We had already come through here and knew it was clear, but it never hurt to be cautious and I certainly didn't want to revive any incident in the past with a drone hive and an enclosed tunnel.
"Double time now," I ordered. "We're about to get ourselves a nice little kill zone and I don't want to let it go to waste."
We traveled through the subway unimpeded. The other station was considerably smaller, but still had some signs of looting and panic. The vending machines had been looted and only a couple of chocolate bars were left. I grabbed two for myself and tossed the other one to Preacher before we moved up the stairs. We stopped just shy of the surface and Preacher looked at me, waiting for my word.
"That's seventy meters to the nearest entrance," I said. "We don't have any cover. Do we sprint it or move while scoping for movement?"
"I thought you were the officer here, sir."
"You don't want the responsibility if we get killed then?"
He shook his head. "Whatever God wills."
"Sprint it is," I said.
"I was hoping He would will caution this time."
"Well, maybe He likes me more than He likes you."
"You're still alive after all these years so… Might be."
I chuckled. "Ready?"
"Yup."
"Go!"
We dashed out of the subway at a dead sprint. Well, it was a dead sprint for Preacher; to me it felt like a fast jog. I kept my eyes to the side, watching the dark windows for movement. I failed to spot any threats, but I wasn't about to discard them. We reached our point of entry without any incident, but we were fired upon when I smashed the glass doors. Preacher almost got his neck sliced, but instead he simply fell backwards in surprise. I fired back wildly, having a vague idea of where our assailant was. A second needle bounced off my chest armor in a surprising turn of events. Those things tended to penetrate almost everything they hit.
That second shot was enough for me to get a bead on the jackal sniper, but it ducked before I could hit it. I merely grabbed Preacher and dragged him inside the entrance even as he tried to pull himself to his feet
"You ok?" I asked, realizing that my chest hurt.
"Yeah. You were hit."
"Armor deflected it. Miraculously enough."
Preacher examined my damaged chest piece.
"God has a plan for you, sir. He wouldn't go to such lengths to keep you alive otherwise."
"God would kill me as soon as possible if He liked me," I said. "Plan or no plan, God doesn't want me happy."
"Maybe you'll be happy if you accept your role in the world."
"Preacher. Please don't preach, pardon the wording. Not right now."
He nodded in acquiescence. "As you wish, sir."
"Third floor," I said. "Hurry."
The building was empty. It was an office building, which meant that when the evacuation notice had come they had been forces to evacuate. All the cubicles were left exactly how they had been when the workers left. Everything was relatively tidy, no chaos or overturned chairs or holes in the walls. Stray bullets or debris from an explosion had hit a few of the windows, but the building itself appeared eerily empty, not completely ransacked.
"There," I pointed, "I'll take 7th and you watch 8th."
"Yes, sir."
"Pavel what's your situation?"
"I'm in position to take out once Covenant position," he replied quietly. "We'll try to go silent."
"Tell me when you're done," I said. "Caboose?"
"We're waiting for Pavel to clear the way," he replied calmly. "We're still pinned here."
"Alright," I said. "As soon as you've got a window move down to my position."
"Yes, sir."
"Pavel, you head back towards the warehouse, resupply."
"Wilco."
I got a hail from the commander of A Company a few seconds later. Interestingly enough, the man in charge of the unit was a gunnery sergeant. Probably the top ranking NCO left alive. I knew for a fact that they had at least one lieutenant still alive when we left Mendez, but the man had been hit. They were perhaps at sixty percent strength right now, but the tank and IFV bolstered their offensive and defensive capabilities.
"Lieutenant Castillo, good to be working with you again," the leader came in.
"Likewise Gunny," I replied. "Good to see you."
"Details are scarce, sir," he went on. "Where do you need us?"
"Just keep moving forward," I said. "I'm fortifying our current position, draw the Covenant into a sniper alley."
The Gunny chuckled. "Ah, I like the way you think, sir. I'll position my vehicles to appear as non-threatening as possible. You want 7th and 8th for the sniper alleys?"
"Yes," I said.
"Alright, I'm moving my men into position."
I watched as A Company settled into defensive positions. Some of the soldiers entered the building and began clearing the bottom two floors, finding no sign of enemy activity. The jackal sniper fired on the soldiers not soon after, hitting an unlucky fellow in the chest the man went down, but the medics got to him almost immediately, presumably stabilizing his condition before he passed. That's when the Armadillos truly began drawing the attention that I wanted them to. They retaliated against the sniper with a barrage of explosive rounds into the building it was in. A whole section was brought down and the jackal was either torn to pieces or crushed under the rubble.
"There's the noise I was hoping to get," I said grimly. "Gunny, send up any marksmen you've got. Keep them in the second floor."
"Alrighty," he replied. "They're moving."
I saw two blue dots separating themselves from the bulk of A Company and immediately focused back on 7th. The street was empty, but the crumbling of a building was not something that went unnoticed. Already I was getting images of enemy movement.
"A Wraith?" Preacher asked. "How the hell did they manage to sneak a Wraith in without us noticing?"
"I don't know," I said, groaning. That one was going to be a bitch to handle in enclosed quarters such as this. "Gunny! We've got a Wraith in the area, I'm linking you to the drone following it, move your vehicles and men accordingly."
"Thanks for the heads-up, sir."
"I see enemy targets," Preacher informed me calmly. "Seven hundred meters and closing."
"Copy," I replied. "Let them hit the two hundred meter mark."
"We're gonna be pushing our skill there," he noted.
I chuckled. "We me suena a manada."
"What?"
"Just try and keep up," I taunted.
"Oh, I'm the one that should be saying that, sir. Didn't we agree that God was against you?"
"I think we actually disagreed on that and you were on the opposite side of the debate."
"Let's focus on the task at hand, shall we, sir?" he said cheekily. "Two fifty and closing. A Company is ready for a crossfire at the fifty meter range."
"I see," I acknowledged. "Pavel?"
"We took out two enemy units for a total of twenty-two kills," he checked in. "Knives only."
"I'm proud of you," I said honestly. "Start heading back. Caboose?"
"Already en route. I'll let you know."
"The plan comes together," I said to Preacher in my best evil mastermind voice. "Even when the world comes apart."
"There's a silver lining in everything," he asserted in response. "Not a lot of silver on this cloud, but still…"
I rolled my eyes. "Shut up and let the carnage begin!"
He didn't need another word. We both fired our first shot almost at the exact same moment. I hit a jackal, Preacher presumably hit a brute. I assume that his target went down at the same time mine did, but soon after I completely compartmentalized him away from my current point of focus. I looked for the most valuable targets and took them out as fast as possible. It was in situations like this that I really noticed just how fast I had become. It was literally an overnight thing, but I loved every minute of it. Jackals moved slower, bolts dragged themselves as they flew, and every little glint or reflection seemed to be highlighted in my sight.
Brutes and jackals went down easily, leaving behind confused grunts. I somehow managed to force the enemy force to stop after I killed twelve of their number, and only then did they begin firing back in my general direction.
"Spirit inbound, Frank," Marina said. "It's bearing down on you form the 7th."
"Got it," I replied. "Gunny, did you catch that?"
"Affirmative, Lieutenant. I'm preparing my SPANKRs."
The Spirit slowed down before actually coming close enough to make it obvious that it was gunning for me. It dropped down additional troops, but this time it was an obnoxiously weird drop. Ten hunters jumped out of the cargo bays, shaking the craft as they left it. They immediately moved together with their bond brothers and formed the single most intimidating phalanx that I had had the misfortune to see in my whole life.
"Oh, fuck."
"Oh, fuck," Schitzo echoed.
"Gunny, I've got ten hunters moving down 7th!" I shouted. "I need you to move an Armadillo up and stop them ASAP!"
"Did you say ten?" he asked.
"Yes!"
He gave the word and one of the IFVs rolled into position. It brought its auto cannon to bear just as the hunters began warming up their fuel rod cannons. The 'Dillo fired head-on at the hunters, but for some reason this vehicle had the high-explosive version of the rounds, not the armor piercing ones. Normally that would've been enough, but the phalanx meant that the shockwaves were absorbed by at least three hunters at any given point. The occasional round hit the shoulders or legs, tearing huge chunks of armor off, but not enough to kill them.
"Ah shit," I muttered.
The hunters opened up on the Armadillo. I couldn't directly see the effects of their weapons, but the IFV was knocked backwards at least three meters before coming to a stop at a tilted angle. The gunner didn't stop firing though, instead it switched to the edges of the formation, succeeding in taking out one of the hunters out. A Company repositioned and sent most of their troops to back up the Armadillo, pummeling the hunters with smaller caliber rifles as well. Grenades flew as I did my best to keep the brutes firing on the soldiers from doing too much damage. The hunters were moving at a brisk pace, gaining ground quickly and tightening their phalanx whenever one of them died. I fully expected them to finish off the Armadillo and move in to engage the regular infantry. Even with four of their number dead, six hunters were still enough to wipe out a company caught unprepared.
Instead they raised their cannons at my window.
"Ah shit," I said yet again. "Move!"
I jumped to my feet, my body not nearly as fast as I would've liked it to be. I moved through the office cubicles with Preacher close behind me. My vision slowly turned greener and greener as the fuel rods closed in. My legs moved in incredibly slow motion as my mind tried to get my body to escape the danger. Even my eyes seemed to be taking a while to move where I wanted them to. I registered the sound of glass shattering behind me and the whole world went green. I jumped forward, diving as far away from the blasts as possible. At this angle the hunters had a relatively nice window before their shots hit the ceiling and could very well burn me alive before they reached that point.
I heard the explosions as some of the fuel rods went over me. There was a scream, there was pain, and then something fell on my head, knocking me out.
This chapter was proofread by General TheDyingTitan. Let it be known that he wants to improve as a proofreader and appreciated constructive feedback on any mistakes that he might've had.
Well, before I go into an overview of sorts for this chapter I want to apologize for the longer than usual delay in between updates. You all know that I just moved to a new country, but I just moved into another house because the last one was too small and this one was the one that we actually planned to move into, but the family living here hadn't left when we arrived. I was stuck in between school, sports, family, and ferrying our stuff between this house and the last one. I barely had any time to write. I was going to post this yesterday, but I was simply exhausted. I even went into bed without taking a shower after a particularly arduous football practice (I'm doing alright there, by the way). You have no idea how disgusting it is to sleep in a bed with just a blanket, a pillow without a pillowcase and no AC. Fucking hell if you ask me.
So there's that.
Frank's squad is decimated, only one KIA, but a lot of WIAs. We got a sniper-heavy chapter. I let the basics of sniping go down the toilet and instead gave you this little thing of hopping around buildings and then staying in your position even when you're made. The rest of the guys were mostly in the background, so you could say this was basically a Frank and Preacher chapter. Nice guys, aren't they? Well then. That's about it. I had absolutely no fun writing this because it took way too long. I hope that it is at least decent enough to make up for the long wait.
Takalo I hope you were satisfied by the brute scene, man.
outcast's redeemer You're half right there buddy. If you remind me at the end of Reach I might just tell you why there were no reinforcements.
AFlameofVengance I'd like to agree with you. Really, but I'm terrible at math and that's probably not going to change any time soon. So for the time being I still hate it.
fantasydelver welcome to the Big Leagues. Count yourself amongst the select few that have achieved this. Reading your way through the absolute bullshit that were the first few chapters is something to be proud off. Making it all the way over here even more so. I tip my hat to you (and thank you for the reviews). As for the name similarities, it was a total coincidence, but I like the reference a lot. Frank Castle v. Francisco Castillo. That would be a fight worth seeing.
We went over pretty much everything I think. Homecoming is on friday, I'll let you know how it all goes. Wish me luck in the form of an astounding number of reviews. You know what I'm talking about. Review you lovable bastards.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that the 10,000 words I wrote down just for you guys were enough to satisfy your interest in my humble story.
Stay strong.
-casquis