The Life

by casquis

The Great War was a long one, millions made it, more didn't. Frank is an ODST, a human just like us, that has managed to survive the most grueling battles for years. With so much experience under his belt he has some amazing stories to tell. This are the life stories of an immature, not-all-in-there, and talented Marine just living, fighting, and being plain badass during the war.

205. Crown Jewel

Chapter CCV: Crown Jewel

August 23, 2552 (UNSC Calendar)/

Olympic Tower, New Alexandria, Viery territory, Reach, Epsilon Eridani System

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"Look at this place. Used to be the crown jewel… not anymore." Jun-A266

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The closer you got to the walls the more obvious it became that this was a warzone. Not that you needed a lot of help to figure that out in the first place, but the amount of explosion craters, scorches, and glassed marble tiles increased with every step I took. The material of the courtyard switched abruptly from an exquisite black marble to a more utilitarian brown polycrete floor. My boots felt considerably more comfortable now that my feet had had time to rest outside of the boots. My joints were a bit achey, like they would usually feel after an intense workout session back in high school. My head was still hurting, but it was no longer pounding and I could see very clearly indeed.

When your body is used to sleeping four or five hours at most every day and you've gotten even less than that in the past nights, a short amount of sleeping time can work wonders. I felt almost rejuvenated. In fact, my men looked rejuvenated. Dotsenko had been down since he made that call, but he was a little more talkative now. Ramirez was limping heavily, but I couldn't spare him, not now. Marv and Caboose looked more like their usual selves and Pavel was no longer tripping over his own feet.

We were always a killing machine, but now we were once again well oiled.

"Machine guns on towers," I said. "Everyone else, ramparts. Wait up, Andy, I want you to hang back in a Warthog."

"Um, sir. May I ask why?"

"Because I say so," I told her. "And because you're our medic. We need you to be able to reach anybody quickly."

She nodded. "Alright then."

"We're also going to need you when the wall comes down."

"You mean if."

I shook my head. "Come on, Andy. This city is as good as lost, you know that as well as I do."

Andrea stiffened slightly. "Yes, sir."

She moved back at a brisk jog, raising dust with every step she took. The rest of my guys were climbing up to the walls while Pavel, Dotsenko and Ramirez spread out to the nearest watchtowers. From this position we would be able to cover several blocks. There was a nice little space in between our walls and the nearest available cover. The few Daemons and Wraiths that had made it all the way over here dotted the landscape and would certainly be a bitch for us. They would be great cover for the covvies.

I patted the wall, feeling it. There was a certain quality to its molecular bonds that made it feel hard. I knew that the material was dense, flexible, and could take up to seven direct shots from a Scorpion in the same square yard.

It would last us about a day, I reckoned. Two with luck.

"We're gonna need your help, little buddy," I whispered. "Don't let us down."

"Frank, drones are not an option," Grass told me. "We've established unsecured communications with all units, but secure channels have been a little harder to make work. Their jammers are actively blocking those frequencies."

"Why am I not surprised," I muttered. "How does that affect us?"

"It doesn't," she said. "Not directly. Helmets can communicate directly with one another and my radio doesn't need an antenna to talk to you."

"I remember back in the day when I used to own a prototype helmet," I said. "It could communicate reliably across seventy kilometers of solid rock. Now I feel like we're stuck in the 22nd century."

"What can I say, Frank?" Grass said. "Did you know that helmets with radios only became standard in the 23rd century?"

"I didn't know that, no," I said. "Any other fun facts?"

"Oh. I have so many of those," she said. "But I'm saving them up. What you do need to know, is that Nezarian's got your left flank all covered."

I winced involuntarily. "You know, every time someone says that name I think about Yev."

"So do I," Grass admitted. "He was a good man, Frank."

"He was one of my best friends."

"You still have Pavs, me, and Marina."

"Actually, you're supposed to say Pavs, Marina, and me," I corrected. "But you know what I mean. Making friends nowadays is a hard thing to do, especially for veterans. That's why losing them is that much harder."

"I know," she said. "We've all lost our fair share of friends. I also know that you've lost a lot of men under your command, Frank."

"Why are you bringing that up now?" I asked. "As if I don't have enough already."

"Oh come on, I can read you like an open book. You're worried you're gonna have to add more numbers to your arm there."

I sighed. "I'm not worried about that. I'm more worried about when it's going to happen."

"You're such a downer."

"And you've got a great ass," I said. "What's new?"

"Umm…" she muttered awkwardly. "Your right flank's covered by a ragtag unit. Men from various decimated squads, Flatt assembled them to further bolster our defenses."

"Are they reliable?"

"They survived most of this in really bad spots," Grass said. "The few of them that didn't pass the psych were evacuated. Mostly they're angry and want to kill something."

"Alright then. We're gonna have to work with that. Does Badger have any issues?"

"Nope, neither does 3rd. We're all good to go."

"Ok, how do we know when we're about to be attacked?"

"For the most part I'm going to be using street cameras, working with the city's superintendent. Other than that we're going to take a little while to pass on information. All unsecured communications are probably gonna be spoken in code or encrypted, so it's going to be a bit longer."

"Damn, how encrypted are they?" I joked. "Well, you just let us know and we'll nap."

"Right," Grass said. "I guess it's gonna have to be a short one."

An hour. That was all it took for the so-called small and elite unit to get through to the walls.

"Why are we still here?" Pitcher groaned as he propped his rifle up on the edge of the wall, securing his footing on the ramparts. "I don't think I signed up for this."

"Wrong," Andy said.

"This is exactly the kind of shit that you signed up for," Bee added. "So stop bitching about it."

I smiled. I had said something along those lines a long time ago.

"Gentlemen," I said. "We all know that they're probably gonna go through this walls. Let's make them afraid to take another step once they're inside."

"Oorah!" Pavel shouted. "Let's get loud, boys!"

"Solid defensive position, unlimited ammunition, air support, and plenty of targets," Ramirez said. "This is the kind of shit that I live for."

My smile turned into a grin. That rest had sure done my team good.

Miranda opened fire with her DMR, hitting a grunt right in between the eyes. She fired a second time, hitting a jackal. By the time she fired a third time the whole squad had opened up. I worked in conjunction with Miri, lowering the shields on the elites while she finished them off with a quick headshot. It amazed me just how steady and smooth she had become with her weapon. Even back in the day she had been a real talent, but nowadays she rarely missed. People like us couldn't afford to miss. If we did, we were dead.

The Covenant that were attacking us were indeed of the more talented variety, making extensive use of suppressive fire and maneuvering in order to make us spread our fire as much as possible. They got about ten meters from the wall before I gave Pavel the signal. He stopped firing his M247L and instead pulled up a mounted HMG. The weapon took a second to spool up and then it started doing precisely what it was designed to. Bullet after bullet was spat out at a ridiculous rate, cutting down several of the enemy infantry closest to our position. After a few seconds of sustained fire Pavel instead began firing short bursts, suppressing advance on our entire right flank.

"Frank, eight Wraiths and a Locust walker made it through our perimeter," Grass announced. "They're headed your way… wait, the Locust and two Wraiths split off towards Nezarian's unit."

"We'll handle the rest," I said. "Listen up! We've got Wraiths incoming, be ready to jump out of the way!"

I got a few subtle acknowledgements, but my men were all focusing all of their attention on the targets. I moved back and started walking the length of the ramparts in between the towers, doing mostly spotting work and redirecting fire. Occasionally I would turn around to reassure Andrea that everything was alright. She was still in the Warthog, gripping the wheel tightly and sprung for action. I turned around to look at the wasteland surrounding FLEETCOM. Most of the bodies here were Covenant, but even after all these days we hadn't been able to remove the civilian bodies. Some of the corpses were already beginning to rot.

"They're moving down on our left," I noted. "Ramirez, Dotsenko, shift fire."

"Negative, sir!" Ramirez shouted back. "They've got their center stacked! It's a feint!"

I looked at the center of their advance and indeed noticed that there were plenty of aliens taking cover there. I frowned, the covvies weren't normally this smart, at least not early on in an engagement.

"Marv, Mata, eyes center," I said. "Ramirez, shift to the left on my mark."

"Yes, sir."

"One, two, three, mark!"

The two gunners started firing on the advance on the left, triggering the center to advance in a massive charge. We drilled the lead elites in the opening moments of their advance, and then we hit the ones right behind that, leaving six squads without a leader. Pavel chose that moment to shift his fire for a few seconds, strafing the grunts and jackals with HMG fire. The advance faltered for an instant as squads that had been rushing forward instead stumbled and looked for cover. I emptied my magazine on grunts and jackals' backs before they could take cover once again.

"Let's see them try that again," Schitzo said.

I glanced sideways to look at him. For once he seemed to be serious. It wasn't very often that he took himself seriously. After scaring the shit out of me that first time he had become an uncomfortable and unwanted presence, but mostly a comedic, annoying one. Well, that's how an outsider would see him, I guess. To me it was a constant battle with myself, trying to forget that despite my functionality I was still insane and broken.

"Wraiths, four blocks down," Miranda noted calmly.

"That puts them within range," I said. "Everybody be alert."

The enemy mortar tanks didn't take their time, instead they began shelling us with plasma. At that range the buildings on either side of them kept them from having too wide an angle, and we solved the problem that their firing presented simply by shuffling sideways, but the Wraiths didn't stop firing. They were hitting the wall, the space in front of it, and the space behind it.

"Frank…"

"Let them keep at it," I said. "Focus on the infantry for now."

It seemed to me that the alien in charge here seemed to have at least some decent commanding qualities, which is what made me believe that it wouldn't throw its forces against this wall when the danger of friendly fire was so great. However, it seemed unlikely that they'd pull them back. I gave command for my men to take out those closest to our positions with combined fire and minimal grenade use. Once we had cleared a nice little semicircle around our section of the wall we had a decent shot at firing on the Wraiths.

"Bee, do you have those anti-tank missiles?" I asked. "The guided ones?"

"Yes, sir," he said. "But I can't fire without exposing myself to tank fire."

"Can those be adapted to follow painted targets?"

"Yes, sir."

"Get on it," I said. "I'll tag you a Wraith."

I watched as Bee grabbed his SPANKr and took the missiles out, unscrewing the caps. He began fiddling with the warheads and then screwed the caps back on before loading them in the launcher again. He gave me a thumbs-up and waited for me to paint the target. I slowly edged to the spot where the Wraith mortars could no longer reach and waited for a lull in their firing. All I would need was a second or two.

"Wait for it…" Schitzo said. "Wait for it…"

I waited.

"Go!"

I popped up and out just as the Wraiths fired. I ignored the blue orbs that quickly moved up their arch, trailing vapors behind. I found the lead Wraith immediately and aimed at it. The target designator on my BR55HB beeped and I jumped back to the side, running away from the explosions that were soon to come.

I didn't see Bee fire, but the sight of the rockets flying diagonally up and to the side before turning abruptly to their right and down was something impressive. The two rockets detonated against the plating on the Wraith, presumably destroying it. The destruction of one of the tanks would give the others a warning.

"They're moving to the sides," Grass announced. "Nice stunt, by the way. It's hard to get your hands on multi-purpose missiles, how do you handle that, again?"

"I know a gal," I said with a shrug. "They come in handy."

The quick lull in their assault allowed Pavel to move from his position, dragging the mounted HMG behind him. The weapon was heavy, but its mount had wheels that could be secured. I couldn't help but note that having that down on the courtyard would be immensely helpful if it came down to it. He relocated just outside of the tower, propping the HMG against the wall and placing the ammunition crates next to him. Ramirez and Dotsenko retained their position, but everybody else shifted around. The top of the wall had firing ports, but we hadn't made use of them yet, instead opting to keep that advantage hidden for when the Covenant made it to the walls. Once there, there would be nothing to cover them from our fire.

"Here they come again!"

"Ready, ready!" I shouted, slurring the words as I said them.

My men opened fire, hitting a bunch of elites and sending them running for cover. I shouted orders viciously and violently, insulting, berating, and demeaning my men with every word that came out of my mouth. Meanwhile, they did their absolute best to prove me wrong and rack up their kill count. I kept on firing, adding up to my own tally, knowing that nobody but Pavel or Caboose would ever come even remotely close to reaching my number, even if I discounted the use of nuclear weaponry on my part. I focused on grunts that seemed to be carrying heavier packs than normal. My instincts proved right when one of those grunts was dragged behind cover and its pack was transplanted to another unlucky gas sucker.

"They're carrying det-packs," I noted. "Hit those first!"

"Ah, shit!" Pitcher shouted when a needle shattered in the wall in front of his face, sending shrapnel into his visor.

"Pitcher, report!" I shouted, sprinting to his location.

"I'm alive," he grunted. "Ah shit, I'm alive."

I reached him and looked him over. A small section of his visor had been cracked and pieces of the polymer had dug into his skin, but otherwise he seemed to be fine. A little bit of blood dripped out the gap in his visor and he wiped it off.

"Gory, gory," I said. "You're fine."

"That would've been a helluva way to die, eh?" he asked. "Just like they say in the Airborne."

I nodded and dusted his shoulders. He seemed shaken. Very much so.

"How did that song go?" I asked him, handing him his weapon back. "He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright."

Pitcher chuckled. "He checked off his equipment and made sure his pack was tight."

I gestured for him to continue.

"He had sit and listen to those awful engines roar. You ain't gonna jump no more!"

I smiled and sang the chorus with him. "Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die!"

Soon enough Marv joined us. I wondered for a moment how he knew an Army Airborne cadence and then shrugged it off. I even heard Grass mumbling along on the radio before she suddenly patched the song through to the speaker systems on the walls. Those speakers were as loud as they came, if not more. They were designed for everyone in the FLEETCOM complex to be able to hear it in case of an emergency.

"Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die!

Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die!

Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die!

He ain't gonna jump no more!"

The song blasted loud enough to startle the covvies for a brief instant. I mused for a few seconds, wondering if their translators would work well enough to make them understand what the song meant. Then I wondered whether they would understand the meaning of the song itself. They would probably think that they were the ones that were supposed to suffer the gory deaths.

They weren't far wrong.

Pavel tore a jackal in half with a particularly vicious sustained burst, tearing its bones and flesh with near ease. Miranda hit a wounded elite in the neck, severing an artery as well as taking a large chunk of muscle off as the bullet expanded. The elite reached up to try and keep the blood in, but its trachea was exposed to the open air by this point. Marv fired mostly center mass, but when he went for the head the bursts he fired often took out the face and obliterated the back of the skull, sending bone fragments flying alongside the brains and bullets. Ramirez and Dotsenko punched holes the size of lemons through jackals and elites, leaving them writhing on the ground if they were lucky.

"There was blood upon the risers, there were brains upon the chute,

Intestines were a-dangling from his paratrooper's suit,

He was a mess, they picked him up, and poured him from his boots,

He ain't gonna jump no more!"

The song wound down as the unlucky airborne trooper crashed into the ground because of a malfunctioning parachute or some such thing. The chorus once again repeated itself, but this time at a slower pace and with a much more solemn tone. Pitcher sang through the length of the song at full volume, firing fast and accurate, hitting grunts and jackals while he left the elites to Miranda and me.

"Camilla," Nezarian's voice suddenly came in on the shared channel. "Are you taking requests?"

"Sure," she replied.

"If we're playing oldies, then my men would like Airborne Ranger."

"Deep in the battlefield?" Grass asked.

"How do you even know that?" he asked.

"I know everything," she said.

"Air, bo, or, or, orne!

Ran, ger, er, er, er, er!"

I shook my head. This was a damn old cadence, but the speakers made the old-fashioned vocals sound that much more impressive. I found myself mumbling along the cadence, repeating after the drill sergeant in the speakers had finished his part. Pitcher chanted along with me. This time Miri joined in. I was surprised at her voice. She had a beautiful face and a killer body, but I had never considered her to have an attractive voice. Once she began chanting the cadence her voice proved to be nearly angelic.

"Deep in the battlefield, covered in blood,

Lies an Airborne Ranger, dying in the mud!"

I shook my head slightly. It had truly been a long time since the Airborne and the Rangers had been the same thing. They used similar methods to make their grand entrances, and even had similar roles, but their specializations were not the same. Airborne was, when it came down to it, the best infantry you could get. The Rangers were a top of the line special operations unit. Not to say I would like to face an Airborne unit in an exercise, but I would prefer them to the Rangers every time.

I found myself bobbing my head in rhythm to whatever cadence happened to be blasting in the speakers as I fired my rifle. For some reason or other I realized that I was firing my bursts with the beat of the songs, at first it seemed slightly bothersome, but in the end I gave in and fired in sync with the speakers. Not soon after I realized that I wasn't the only one doing the same things. Everyone but the gunners was firing in beat. Whether it was by accident or on purpose, it gave our barrages a certain beauty.

"I am, Earth's best," I muttered as the fast-paced cadence went on. It was a very old one, but the people back in the day had certainly been cocky assholes. What would they think of us if they had the chance to meet us?

"We don't need no innies!

Hangin, hangin, hangin around!"

I laughed, a little bit old fashioned.

"Hey, don't be a fool,

Somebody said we were number two,

We're number one,

Go Army!"

Pitcher cheered, the lone member of AAG-7 that had come from the UNSC Army. Well, Tank and Crow were both Army, but Tank was in Esztergom and Crow was dead. I prepared for the next part as the song came around, returning for a second round.

"We don't need no covvies!

Hangin, hangin, hangin around!"

It was a little detail, but it made all the difference in the world.

"Wraiths are moving up," Grass said. "The Locust is shifting to your spot."

"Ready, ready!" I shouted again. "Wraiths and Locusts want a piece of this."

The explosions began to drown out the sound of the speakers. Explosion after explosion shook the walls as the Wraiths fired on our position. This time the Covenant commander made sure to fire suppressive fire on us as the tanks worked at the damaged section of the wall. It made it hard for me to paint a target for Bee, but after some serious annoyances I managed to achieve just that. I cursed our lack of any kind of combat drones, remembering the few times that drone assistants had been made available for our use. The best kind was those little hovering ones that would fly through a building, tagging the layout and blinding the enemy with strobes.

"Painted, fire!"

"Firing!"

The two missiles once again flew up, hitting the Wraith I had painted. The other two tanks moved out, rushing for cover. I smiled with relief, but the Locust began advancing, climbing over debris and wrecked vehicles with ease. The occasional bullet would make its shields shimmer, giving it a sinister appearance.

"Frank, they're overwhelming us with fire," Pavel said.

"Use the firing holes," I said. "And fire nonstop!"

My men ducked back down and slid open the firing holes. I did the exact same, but instead of firing on infantry I painted the Locust for Bee's SPANKr. The two rockets slammed into the walker a few seconds later. The smoke faded to reveal a damaged hull as yellow lightning coursed through, signaling that its shields had failed it.

"Grass, give me some air support! Now!"

"Falcon dispatched!"

The rotors were loud enough to be heard. I turned around and looked at the gunship as it flew at us. It went over the wall, nearly hitting it and making us duck out of the way. As soon as it left the perimeter it started climbing up as it pivoted. The gunners fired at the infantry, nullifying whatever cover they had. The craft banked hard to the right as the Locust fired a beam at it. The pilot kept on strafing sideways as the beam disappeared, its energy supply exhausted.

"Hit it!" I shouted, urging them to fire before the Locust would be able to recharge.

The Falcon pilot knew his shit. The pilot fired the main cannon as the two gunners twisted around to join him. The Locust was heavily armored, but its shields were down and the frame couldn't withstand the sustained barrage. The armor gave in and the bullets punched through, killing the pilot and rendering the walker useless.

My men cheered as the machine groaned and collapsed, sending several grunts into a panic.

The Falcon flipped back around, strafing the exposed elites and grunts from above. As soon as it was back behind the wall it hugged the floor and moved further back into the perimeter.

"Cuando yo tenía 15 años,

Mi mamá,

Me lo decía

No te metas de soldado,

Porque corren todo el día."

I smiled. My uncle used to sing this one back in the day. Some of the guys that they brought to him knew Spanish, but by the time they were out of boot camp they all knew the cadence word for word and could recite it with perfect pronunciation. Nowadays most of the cadences used un the UNSC were from old cadences from the United States back before their Second Civil War or from the URNA shortly after that. The British had managed to sneak a few of theirs in, as well as the Russians and Chinese back before that Sino-Soviet business. National armies still used their own cadences, but the UNSC forces hadn't added any more in a long time.

"Pero terco terco el indio,

Quería andar uniformado,

Y cambiar mis huarachitos,

Por botas de soldado."

I chuckled again as the cadence faded down into silence.

"Ah, this one is one of my favorites!" Pavel shouted loudly as the next cadence began playing on the speakers. "PT, PT, PT count!" his voice boomed.

"PT, PT, PT count!" my squad shouted back, firing as they did.

"Mile One, just for fun!" I shouted.

"Mile One, just for fun!" they replied.

"Mile Two, good for you!" Pavel shouted.

"Mile Two, good for you!"

An elite fell as Miranda hit it in the waist, rendering it unable to walk. A second shot hit it in the chest. I switched from that elite to another one that hadn't been killed, but the one I had been gunning for made it into cover before I could breach its shields. I settled for tripping a grunt, letting Marv finish it with a burst.

"Mile Three, good for me!" Mata's voice boomed.

"Mile Three, good for me!"

"Mile Four, let's run some more!" Marv joined in.

"Mile Four, let's run some more!"

The Wraiths began advancing once again, pummeling the wall with fire from their mortars as well as their coaxial plasma turrets. The wall shook with each impact even as Bee and I worked in tandem to paint and destroy the Wraiths. No matter how fast I moved, we could only fire two rockets at a time and the Wraiths could sometimes take a lot more than that, especially when Bee wasn't able to properly aim, instead hoping the warheads would hit a weak spot in the armor. We brought down one of the Wraiths, but another one was still left.

"Goddammit," I cursed.

"Mile Nine, I'm feeling fine!"

"Mile Nine, I'm–"

The mortar explosion drowned the reply to the cadence as my men struggled to keep firing. Already the Covenant had set up jackal sharpshooters and snipers that had managed to hit the firing holes a couple of times. So far nobody had been harmed, but there had been a few close calls. Besides, I was more worried about Ramirez' ability to move quickly. Already he had to rely on Dotsenko for support when changing location.

"Frank, we're getting pings on our radar," Grass said. "Signature matches Banshees."

"Radar," I sighed. "No more sensors?"

"Nope, good old fashioned noise."

"How are our SAMs doing?"

"Not good," she replied. "There's at least twelve of them."

"Pavel, ready for fliers!" I shouted. "Eyes on the skies! Andrea, hop on the LAAG!"

My men moved around, switching their positions. If the infantry had communicated our exact location to the Banshees we would be in an uncomfortable situation. Namely, the bad end of a fuel rod bomb.

I heard the screaming sound that the fliers made before I could see them. I could hear it even above the cadences on the loudspeakers. Pitcher fired at the lead Banshee, hitting the wing but otherwise leaving it undamaged. The dozen aircraft all began strafing at the same time. Their plasma bolts hit the wall, sending bits of molten material flying up above us. I ducked my head underneath the ramparts as plasma splashed around me before popping back up and firing at the lead Banshee.

Pavel opened up with his HMG, hitting the Banshees on the edge of the formation. Missiles flew from the SAMs inside the complex. The missiles used data from our helmets to pinpoint the location of the Banshees, slamming into them. Four of them remained after the barrage. Andy had backed enough that she had a decent angle on three of them. She tore through them with the LAAG, sending bullet after bullet past the wall, a few feet from our heads.

One Banshee remained, damaged and fire coming out of it, but it soldiered on despite everything. I realized that the wounded pilot could only be thinking about one thing. I tried to look at it from its perspective. Hundreds of its allies were sacrificing their lives to get through to this wall and finally defeat an enemy that had proved to be brutal to fight. It was wounded and would surely die, but it wouldn't die for nothing. The Banshee boosted forward, angling straight towards Bee and Serge. The two of them jumped sideways as the Banshee exploded against the weakened wall. Bee was thrown down the wall and slammed into the courtyard with a disgustingly loud crunch. If he hadn't broken a bone, it would be a minor miracle.

Andy hopped off the turret and climbed into the driver's seat, she rushed towards the wall, placing the Warthog in between the wall and Bee. As soon as she stopped a mortar explosion brought down what was left of the wall, covering her with gravel and debris. She cursed loudly, but otherwise appeared to be alright. She began tending to Bee as Serge climbed down the wall and manned the LAAG on the Warthog.

"Hold the gap!" I shouted. "Hold the fucking gap! Grass, we've got a breach. I repeat, we've got a breach!"

"Shit Frank, there's Daemon's moving towards Nezarian!"

"Come again!" Nezarian checked in. "Do we have AT?"

"Negative Captain," Grass told him. "Badger is dealing with a tank platoon on their end. You're on your own."

"Ah shit," I said. It was quickly becoming my most used phrase.

I heard the war cries as the elites spurred their troops forward. The jackals were the first to jump out, making me think that this had been coordinated somehow, even if the total destruction of the Banshees hadn't been planned. The jackals moved fast, but they kept their shields held up at an angle. We shot at their feet, bringing a few of them down, but even then their numbers suddenly swelled. The cover of dust and smoke meant that we couldn't even see their bright shields clearly. Behind the jackals came the rest. I cursed as I tried to hit as many as possible. Even with my skill and speed I still had to reload, and with every magazine I burned through, they gained more ground. They soon made it to the walls and the elites lobbed grenades over it at our positions.

"Grenade!"

I rushed sideways away from the explosive, barely avoiding the explosive blast that sent me tumbling forward. Another nearby explosion shook me some more and I found myself crashing into the ground, an inch from the edge of the ramparts. I held onto the rail and pulled myself to my feet as the jackal units started climbing over the rubble from the wall.

"Pavel!"

"I'm working on it!" he replied.

Andy was moving Bee into the Warthog as Serge stopped the advance short with the LAAG. The heavy bullets tore through the shields like paper. Whenever they failed to pierce them they would simply break every bone in the jackal's arm and send it tumbling backwards. A small bottleneck was formed in the gap, but the rest of the Covenant infantry was arriving. At this point we wouldn't be able to keep them all from rushing the Warthog.

An elite produced a plasma grenade. I aimed at it and squeezed a burst. The elite didn't drop the explosive, instead it ignored me and reared its hand backwards. Two grunts turned to cover their leader, flooding my position with needler fire. I ducked backwards, firing but missing. The elite threw its grenade right before I managed to kill it, shooting one of the grunts for good measure.

"Watch out!" Miranda shouted.

Andy already had half of her body in the Warthog. She pressed the pedal and turned the wheel just as the plasma grenade began coming down. Serge's body twisted at the sudden lurch and he stopped firing lest he accidentally spray one of us with beer bottle-sized bullets. The jackals surged forward, trampling over their dead and making a shield wall as dense as they came. The elites and grunts behind them tossed grenades in every direction, saturating the ramparts with explosives.

"Dotsenko, Ramirez, stay on your tower!" I shouted. It was a risky position for them because they could easily be cut off, but they had a beautiful vantage point on all directions, especially on the side and rear of the force that had made it through the wall.

"Pull back to the second line!" I shouted, pointing at the sandbags and barricades that had been erected. "Move, move, move!"

Serge began firing again, covering us. The wall of shields slowly moved forward. Occasionally a jackal would fall over, dead, but its comrades would simply keep on walking forward, in an inexorable advance. Deployable covers began popping on their flanks. Pavel directed his HMG fire to the sides, moving his weapon on the wheels of the tripod while running for cover. Miranda and I tried to find any gaps, but their phalanx was so densely packed that there were none that could really hurt.

"Enough bullshit," I muttered. "Grenades!"

Several fragmentation devices flew at the mass of shields, but even then the shrapnel only took out a couple. After those initial explosions the phalanx was weakened enough that Serge could exploit the weak points. Their wall began to collapse, but more and more deployable covers popped into existence as the elites rushed out and fired on our positions.

We had been pushed back only thirty or so meters, but now the Covenant had both feet inside our perimeter. Plasma rained on our position, keeping our return fire down. Ramirez and Dotsenko fired their SAWs from above and behind, hitting several aliens that hadn't spotted them yet. As soon as the fourth elite fell five more deployable covers popped into existence, denying my two gunners their valuable angle. They held their position, still an advantageous one, not nearly as much as it had been a few seconds earlier.

I growled as I hit a jackal trying to move forward. The range was extremely close, but we couldn't afford to back off and give them comfort. We had more positions to fall back to, but as soon as the covvies made it through then they had their backs against a wall.

"Hoppers!" Ramirez warned. "Watch out!"

We all looked up as the elite rangers used their jetpacks to fly over the wall. They slowed down their descent and fired their twin plasma rifles. I was almost hit, but the elites didn't exactly have high accuracy as they came crashing down. Three of them were killed before they could make a dash for cover, but more of them rushed our positions, firing to keep our heads down. Caboose dropped his rifle and reached for his shotgun as the aliens in white armor moved towards his position. He stood up and blasted at them with his shotgun, only ducking his head after a bolt glanced off his shoulder.

"Ah!" he cried. "I'm fine. God. Damn!"

He had wounded two elites, enough for Pitcher to take one of them out and for Serge to cut down the other. We had the advantage, but only just. As soon as their numbers started working against us they would simply bull through.

"Start moving back," I muttered quietly. "Prepare to fall back!"

"Come along and join the party!

Come along and join the fun!"

The loudspeakers were still working, but the cadences were no longer being sung along. Back then we had the relative safety of a wall in front of us, now we were on the same level that the covvies were, but they had numbers on us.

"Hunters incoming," Ramirez announced. "Two pairs, running down the gap."

"Bee, Serge," I shouted. "Take them out as soon as you see them!"

"Watch the right, watch the right!" Pavel warned, firing at a pair of squads that were moving to our right flank, hugging the wall. "Shit!"

The four hunters thundered past the wall. One of them brought down additional rubble as its shoulder hit the damaged edge of the gap. They stepped on two grunts that weren't fast enough to get out of the way and jumped down the pile of rubble, cracking the floor underneath them. Serge and Bee hit the first one. The missile tore its midsection apart, forcing the other three to crouch into defensive positions.

"Grass, we're in a bit of a pickle here!" I shouted. "We need help!"

"Shit, shit, shit," she replied. "Alright, Nezarian's team and the unit to your right are both falling back. They're being pushed back. Ok, ok, ok… Fall back to the third line and meet up by that sphere fountain. You're all linking up. The Covenant has to go through there or face 3rd Company."

"What's so special about them?" I asked.

"Well, for starters, there's a hundred of them and they all have Warthogs. Before you say anything, they have the 'Hogs because they're protecting one of the gates, facing down bigger numbers."

I fumed slightly, but gave the word to fall back before the Hunters got any closer. We had to wait for Ramirez and Dotsenko to get out of the tower and cross the open space. They pummeled the hunters from the side as they went, but we managed to keep the rest of the aliens down long enough for my men to make it to safety.

"What's the plan?" Pitcher asked next to me.

"Fall back to the fountain," I said. "Trust our perimeter and the guys on either side."

"That's not a plan," he complained. "Sir."

"Got a better alternative?" Sergeant Mata asked him.

"No."

"Then fall back we do," I said. "Let's go."

I vaguely noticed a different cadence playing in the background as we ran towards the fountain. Serge and Pavel covered us rather effectively with the Warthog's LAAG and the HMG. I hopped behind a nice sandbag wall, noticing that we were now 200 meters from the wall, a fair amount of space for the Covenant to maneuver. The three hunters led the assault, but the sudden inclusion of Nezarian's team and the unit of survivors had them out of balance. We added more machine gun and Warthog fire into the fray, destroying the three hunters before they could do any damage.

"Spread out the Warthogs!" Captain Nezarian ordered. "Left and center, next to the fountain!"

"Andy, space it out between the steps and fountain," I ordered. "Who's in command?"

"Me, sir!" a sergeant replied. "We're calling ourselves Ragtag for the moment."

"Alright then," I said. "Space out your vehicles and machine guns. Same drill, we've got to hold them as long as possible."

"What happens if we do hold them?" Pavel asked me quietly, rolling his weapon into position.

"We get reinforcements," I said. "They'll hit the Covenant from the rear and serve as a hammer to our anvil."

"You've certainly got a way with words," Pavel muttered.

"Grass, what's the estimate on their numbers?" I asked our internet connection.

"I'm counting around five hundred," she said. "Three Daemon tanks are still up and I see six, no eight Ghosts running around. They've got Revenants up and running too."

"Not too bad," I said. "Bad, but manageable."

"Just barely," she concurred.

The Covenant had decided that they were close enough to begin attacking again. They had our positions on the wall and our first line of defense. There was huge gap in between them and us, but they could move inside the walls with ease, from cover to cover.

The situation started going badly from the get go. The hunters had been killed, but they had moved close enough that our fields of fire proved somewhat ineffectual for the other infantry soldiers. I focused on hitting grunts and jackals as much as possible, but even those were crafty fuckers. The aliens usually ran straight into our fire, but this time they were behaving more intelligently than they had any right to.

"Give us some support!" I shouted. "Grass, get the Falcons and Hornets over here!"

"Can't," she growled. "All Falcons are engaged right now, the Hornets are being swatted down, they sneaked AA into our perimeter."

"How are we not getting more assistance," I growled. "This place is the most important stronghold in the city and probably the planet."

"Captain Flatt is working on pulling some strings," Grass replied, sounding out of breath. "We're working on it."

I hit an elite in the face, sending it down to the ground ass first. A second and third burst took out the shields, leaving it open for one final shot to the jaw. The elite's spine was severed, but it didn't die instantly, instead it slowly choked on its blood as two grunts tried to drag it back behind cover to provide first aid. Another thing I noticed about this unit was that no matter how many we wounded they all seemed to help each other back to safety, grunt, jackal, or elite.

"Cinco segundos antes de morir,

Yo vi el rostro, el rostro de mi madre,

Que con voz tierna y cariñosa,

Me decía hijo, hijo no vayas a la guerra."

I snorted. I wish I had received that advice 18 years ago. Well, for that matter I also wished that my mother was still alive by her own means and not kept that way by mechanical means. I couldn't for the life of me figure what the hell had happened in that crash that modern medicine hadn't been able to heal. I never bothered to check, instead dutifully sending part of my pay to the institution that kept her alive. She was the only link that I had to that good part of my life. My uncle had cared about me, but he wasn't fit to raise a child. All other memories of my family were unpleasant ones, even those involving my dad. He tried, but my brother had skewed his perception of the world. He had done more good than bad with me, but the truck had cut his life short before he could amend his wrongs.

"Cuatro segundos antes de morir,

Yo vi el rostro, el rostro de mi padre,

Que con voz fuerte y amistosa,

Me decía hijo, hijo, no vayas a la guerra."

Once again, my dad's face flashed in front of my eyes, making me miss a shot. I ducked back behind cover and pressed my eyes closed as tightly as I could handle, trying to stop the headache before it came.

"Tres segundos antes de morir,

Yo vi el rostro, el rostro de mi hermana,

Que con voz clara y cariñosa,

Me decía hermano, hermano no vayas a la guerra."
I didn't have a sister and I doubt my brother would've cared much. Maybe he would've enjoyed seeing me suffer? I don't know.

The aliens had closed the distance to fifty meters, grenade range.

"Dos segundos antes de morir,

Yo vi el rostro de mi novia,

Que con voz tierna y amorosa,

Me decía amor, amor no vayas a la guerra."

The first image that flashed was that of Casey First, the only girl that I had dated during high school. She was the first person I had loved in any way, but strangely enough, it didn't hurt when I left Jericho-VII to go to the Corps. In fact, the fact that she had had sex with me before I left made me feel strangely satisfied with myself. Then came Layla, her smiling face and charming wit. Marina replaced that one, sarcasm and seduction. After that came Hanna, the one woman I had betrayed. No matter how many women I slept with, I always told myself that they knew they were one-time things coming into my bed. Hanna had been the love of my life and I betrayed her.

I betrayed her for the very woman that I loved right now, but even then I had only chosen her after Hanna had died in my arms.

My head started throbbing.

"Un segundo antes de morir,

None of them had wanted me to go to war. None of them had wanted to be there once they realized what it really was. They only stayed there because I did. Marina piloted the ship that often kept me alive and Hanna had repeatedly asked me to leave the Corps and have a normal life with her. I couldn't do that. I couldn't do normal.

Yo vi el rostro, el rostro de la muerte

I had been face to face with dead on more than my fair share of occasions. I had even died once, but then Lieutenant Hayes' cousin had brought me back to life. How did I repay that? By abandoning her and her whole team for some stupid piece of intel and to keep my sorry ass alive. Everyone else that I cared about was either dead, dying, or waiting in line.

Que con voz fuerte y tenebroza,

The elites were beginning to get close. Ragtag Unit on our right flank was failing. No matter how angry they were or how much they wanted to avenge their friends, they simply didn't have the skill. An explosion shook the building and brought pieces of glass down. I moved my head, but things were happening too slowly. One of my bullets tore through an elite's chest armor, not slowing down in the least as the depleted uranium expanded inside the elite's chest cavity.

Two mortar orbs began their descent, headed far to the right. If Ragtag broke, then we would be enveloped from the right and the Covenant could move straight for Olympic, destroying our only method of coordination with the enemy.

Me decía listo, listo vamos a la guerra."

I saw the opportunity as soon as it presented itself. An elite marshal in crimson armor appeared, it waved its left arm around, growling orders in its piss-ugly language.

"Cover me!" I shouted even as I left cover.

I could hear Pavel cursing as my men asked me what the hell I was doing, but tracer rounds started flying by my sides. My body moved slowly, but everything else seemed to be caught in molasses. A grunt revealed a portion of its skull, allowing me to shoot it. An elite angled its carbine to fire at me, but a pair of shots sent shrapnel and radioactive fumes into its face as I neutralized its weapon. The elite growled, but it couldn't do anything. An explosion raised dirt and gravel to my right as a Revenant mortar shot detonated in front of me, blasting up dust.

I jumped over the crater, closing my eyes instinctively. The field marshal had spotted me, but it was too slow as it turned to fire its fuel rod cannon at me. One of its ultra bodyguards raised its rifle faster, hitting the ground in front of me with plasma. One of my men hit the elite with a burst, because its shields flickered and its aim was thrown off. I finished it with three quick bursts, all of which hit the space right between its eyes. The other bodyguard turned to shoot at me as well, firing as the marshal did. I dove forward, tucking myself into a ball to break my slide with a roll. For a fraction of a second I wondered why the hell I had done that, but my body thought faster than even my mind could at this point. I came out of the roll and used both legs to propel myself forward into a jump even as the fuel rod detonated right behind me. I grabbed my shotgun with my right hand, placing my BR55 HB into its magnetic clamps on my back. A quick blast lowered the bodyguard's shields before I landed on the marshal shoulder-first. We fell into the ground, giving me enough time to hit the other elite with a follow-up shotgun blast that knocked it out.

"Frank!"

The cries were ignored, but the marshal hadn't attained its rank for nothing. It batted my shotgun away from its face, instead growling as the buckshot ricocheted from the ground next to it and drained its shields. I slammed its wrist against the ground, hard. The elite's face contorted in pain, but it tried to press its forearm-mounted energy dagger into my neck.

I shifted myself and stepped down on its wrist with my right boot while reaching for my sidearm with my right hand. A shot hit me in the back of the shoulder, making me wince. Instead of shooting the marshal like I had planned I turned faster than I thought possible and put three bullets in a grunt's head. After that I twisted my body in every direction, shooting two jackals and three grunts in the head before they could get to me. I had turned my attention back to the elite and fired the remaining four bullets into its face, stunning it but failing to pierce its shields. Instead, I reached for my knife and stabbed its hand to the floor. Once there I grabbed my other knife from the small on my back and brought it down on its head. The marshal tilted its head forward and I found that the knife had gotten itself stuck on the elaborate headdress.

"Fuck this," I muttered.

I grabbed its headdress and yanked as hard as I could. The helmet came off, but the elite's neck remained intact. I was starting to get pissed. I brought my fists together above my head and swung down viciously, hitting the elite's nose and slamming its head against the hard marble floor. After that I started hitting it with wide swinging punches. Every punch turned my body all the way around, giving me even more power for the follow up. I found myself thinking about all that I had lost in my 37 years of life. Dutch, Chow, Ramsey, and Jonah. My very first squad. They had died before they had even made their first combat jump. The guys at the Inconvenience that I had distanced myself from, they died because I didn't care. Layla got hurt, Scarecrow was killed. Almers, Hoff, d'Arc, Sandor, Han, Stan Zepeda, Carver, Atkins, Montri, and Sutton. And now Polly and Preacher were both dead as well.

By the time I had mentally run through the list of names the marshal's head was a messy mass of pulpy flesh and brains. I cursed inwardly and emptied my pistol before reloading it. I reached for my knife and failed to yank it free from the headdress. Instead I fired at an elite that was coming my way and moved towards it.

"Why the hell aren't you heading back?" Schitzo shouted in my face. "Idiot! Dipshit!"

As I got up to my feet I grabbed the fuel rod from the marshal's corpse and shouldered it. The elite hesitated when it saw me, but it was vaporized before it could do anything. I jumped into position behind a deployable cover and zeroed in on a Revenant, hitting it with the remaining rods inside the shoulder-mounted launcher. I turned around to look at the corpse and see if it had additional rounds, but to my surprise Pavel was there. He pressed an additional bunch of green rods into my chest and growled a long series of Polish insults before he fired his M247L, hitting a squad that was rushing towards us.

I reloaded the fuel rod cannon and started playing once again. The launcher was an incredibly overwhelming piece of weaponry. Not only did it fire faster than the SPANKr, it also held more explosives in it. I recoiled slightly from every shot, but the corpses that were disintegrated or the vehicles that were destroyed more than made up for it.

Me decía vamos, vamos a la guerra.

"Push them back!" Nezarian shouted. "Don't stop firing!"

By the time the two Falcons arrived with Team Falcata the courtyard was carpeted with corpses.

"You're late," I told Jonah-G012. Even all his armor couldn't hide the surprise that he felt. "But it's good to have you here."

The Spartan chuckled and shook his head.

"Good to be here," he said.

---

"Tell me you've got good news Jonah," I said, standing up as the armored kid left Olympic Tower.

"Noble Six is alive," he replied. "Noble Five is not."

"It's more than we could've hoped for," I said. "Anything else?"

He shook his head. "We're still not getting the go ahead to knock out those corvettes and now I don't think we could even if we wanted to. Things aren't looking good for us."

I growled and sat back down, moving the box of ammunition under my butt so that I had more space to sit on. The initial attack had been brutal, but the following ones had taken their toll as well. The covvies had been pushed back from the wall, but the man in charge had been smart enough to set up explosives all around the holes where they had breached through. According to Grass over 80% of our walls were now piles of rubble. Our limited air support had been enough to eliminate most of their Wraiths and all of their Daemons, but the main body of the Covenant ground forces had managed to link up with the assault force, providing them with a never-ending stream of supplies and bodies.

At first we hadn't been overly concerned about ammunition, but now things were looking a bit more dire.

"What about your team?" I asked the Spartan-III. "News for you?"

"Negative, El-tee. Many Spartan teams have pulled out of the city. Many others we have lost contact with."

"Damn," I muttered. "Did you find out why we're not getting any reinforcements?"

Jonah looked around and closed the distance. "I couldn't find anything concrete," he admitted, "but our snooping paid off. Miranda, my Miranda-G192, managed to pick up some transmissions that proved to be interesting. Command seems to want to draw in a Covenant ship for boarding."

"There's four of them right now," I muttered, pointing at the closest hovering corvette. "Why the hell would they attempt to board a ship?"

"I know, it's all but impossible."

I shook my head. "No, just stupid. Personal experience."

Jonah paused for a second before shrugging and going on. "Anyways, they want an assault carrier at least."

"At least? At least an assault carrier? That's got to be a fucking joke."

"It's what I heard," he shrugged. "I don't like it either, El-tee, but that's the way things look."

I fumed silently before looking up at the Spartan. "Anything else you heard?"

"One thing," he said. "RED FLAG. Have you heard about it?"

"No. Above my pay grade."

Jonah chuckled.

"What?"

"Lieutenant, I don't know if you know it or not, but at this point you're privy to most UNSC secrets. There's very few things above your pay grade."

"I should've died back in Eden," I said, standing up. "Thanks for the help, Spartan. Tell Alex to keep up the sniping, we can't take another large-scale assault."

"Yes, sir," the Spartan said. "Stay safe."

"You too, Jonah," I muttered.

Pavel found me sitting on the same ammunition box a few minutes later. He looked at me and reported the new developments. There was not much of interest happening near the walls, but Ramirez' leg was getting worse. Our scanners couldn't detect any infections of any kind, but the devices weren't infallible. It seemed like the wound hadn't been properly treated.

"Don't tell Andy," I said. "She's gonna beat herself over it."

"She damn well should, Frank. If she messed up…"

"I'd rather lose one man to pain than her to guilt," I said. "Ramirez is excellent with his SAW, but Andy's our medic. She's good for morale."

"If we lose Ramirez then Dotsenko will snap," he told me. "You've seen him. He hasn't been the same since he found out about his family."

"What, you don't think they might still be alive?"

"Do you?"

I shook my head.

"Miranda asked for another phone call," he said after a short pause. "I said no."

"Good," I said. "Did you talk to Amber?"

"No."

I looked up at the darkened sky. My musings were interrupted by an incredibly loud noise. The sound of a building collapsing was a familiar one already. I turned to the direction of the noise and saw a dust cloud billowing up at a rapid pace. I frowned slightly as Pavel muttered under his breath. There was a corvette hovering over that area, its turrets glowing.

"Was that Traxus?" I asked.

"Looks like it," Pavel said. "That was one of our evacuation ports, Frank."

"Well, ain't that just peachy," I grunted. "I need to kill something."

"When this war ends I don't know how you'll deal with your anger," Pavel said.

"Please," I scoffed. "How do you think this war is going to end?"

"You can never stop hoping," he said calmly. "That's all we have right now."

I hated hope. It always let you down. I remember hoping that my mother would open her eyes weakly and smile at me from her hospital bed. I hoped that my brother would come back and then I hoped that he would come away. I hoped that my uncle would stop treating me like a soldier when I was only thirteen and I hoped that I would make him proud when I joined the ODSTs. I hoped my friends had made it out of the ship, I hoped Layla hadn't left, I hoped Hanna was alive. Hope had a way of putting you up only to slam you down twice as hard. I hated hope, but I hated myself even more for having it. Even now I had a small hope that we would win this battle and I couldn't get rid of it no matter what.

I moved towards the wall, where most of Ragtag was present at the moment. I ducked and moved through our barricades and the piles of debris until I made it to the front. A private greeted me absent-mindedly and shuffled out of my way so that I could get a nice shooting position. He grabbed a spare helmet from one of his dead companions and propped it over cover. No shot came.

"Sell it," I said.

The private sighed and jumped out of cover before dropping back down.

Four different rifles fired at him.

I shot twice, hitting a jackal that had fired a carbine and then another bird with a needle rifle. The two birds reached for their throats before they fell. It took them perhaps a couple of seconds to die, but they'd stop causing trouble.

I grunted thanks and slid backwards out of the danger zone. I was still pissed, but at least I wasn't feeling the urge to punch the shit out of something. The last time that had happened I had found myself in a standoff with Darbinian's men. My own men had proved their loyalty back then. I couldn't help but miss them. Crazy Sandor and arrogant Hoff. An unlikely friendship had formed between those two, but it hadn't lasted long.

"Hey El-tee!" Private Parker greeted me with a smile.

"Parker, you're still alive," I noted drily. "Good."

"I've been lucky," the Army private said. "Either your luck rubs off on me or someone else's does. The last time I was this lucky was during junior prom."

"Not senior prom?" I asked.

"Exactly."

I smiled despite myself, calming down a little bit. "I'll want to hear about that someday," I told him.

"Provided we get out of here alive, I'll tell you all about it, sir!"

"Deal, now back to your post, private."

"Yes, sir!"

Pavel waited for me behind a ten-foot mobile wall. "You better?"

"A bit," I confirmed.

"Frank, everybody's talking about your little stunt."

"You were there too," I reminded him. "And I didn't even ask you to be there."

"It's my fucking job," he replied. "But I didn't take on an elite Field Marshal, its two bodyguards and then some. That's before you even grabbed the fuel rod."

"What do you want me to do about it?" I asked him. "We were on the verge."

"Frank, honestly, I don't give a shit about what you do or don't do. Captain Flatt was pissed about that. She purged every single helmet video that had you on it."

"Why?" I asked him. "I didn't know about this."

"Because she doesn't want people looking into you. You're too linked to everything else. People don't want this to come out. If there's a breaking news story about how the UNSC's glorious Spartans are nothing but fourteen year old kids it's your head and hers along with it."

"Alright. Next time I'll just sit down and die."

"No," Pavel said. "Next time you'll just move and shoot. You won't bash an elite's head in with your bare hands. Things aren't supposed to work like that in real life."

"They do for me," I muttered. "Alright. If something like this comes up again I'll try and tone it down. For you, ok? Not for her."

"You know just what to say to me," Pavel said. "Grass wants to talk to you, she's near the main entrance."

"What's she doing down here? Does it have to do with this business?"

He shrugged. "I'm your gunnery sergeant, not your secretary."

"Fuck you," I said.

Pavel laughed. "Hurry before she gets angry!"

I muttered to myself. I had ordered Grass around for years, getting her to do things that would've killed her as likely as they could've worked. I had absolute trust in her and she had to have the same in me. Her being phased out of my unit had hurt, but there was not much that I could do about it. She had found her way into ONI and knew more secrets than I did. She was still a noncom, but her position as coordinator of ground forces in Olympic and her security clearance put her a bit above me in the chain of command.

It was not something that I was used to.

I moved down the steps and over a few barricades, nodding at my men and those that were serving under Nezarian. The fountain that was in the middle of our last line of defense had been scarred and damaged multiple times, but for some reason it was still spitting out crystalline water. I shook my head at the sight of an airborne trooper dunking her head into the fountain as her colleagues washed the grime from their faces. I moved on towards the main entrance, where two massive machine guns had been positioned. The guns were typically used in anti-tank role. I think they fired 20mm explosive rounds at a rate of 1000 rounds per minute or something insane like that. Anything on the receiving end of those two would not even see its' death coming.

Grass stood a few meters outside the door, clad in a thin armor that ONI spooks had used during the Insurgency when going against badly-armed rebels. It would stop shrapnel and most bullets, but it couldn't disperse heat worth shit. That was not what I noticed first, though.

I hugged Grass tightly and pressed her against me. She wriggled in surprise and discomfort and tried to say something.

"There's an elite behind you," I murmured into her ear. "Three meters."

She stiffened and pulled her head back. It occurred to me that hugging her like this had provided the elite with an opportunity to skewer us both at once, but Grass was fast to react.

She let go of me as I drew my sidearm and aimed at the invisible blur. As I tried to zero in on something I realized just how hard it was to see the camouflaged elite. I fired twice at the spot from memory. Only one round hit, bounding off shields. The elite turned on its energy sword and lunged for Grass. She twisted sideways, using her artificial arm to deflect the stab so that it missed. The elite's lunge went wide and Grass grabbed it by the throat. Her artificial limb whirred slightly and her fist closed on the elite, tearing a chunk of flesh from the alien's neck. Blood sprayed everywhere as the alien fell.

"Shit," I grunted, suitably impressed. "They're in the perimeter. They're in the perimeter!"

Grass was giving word as well, shouting into her mic. "We've got camouflaged elites inside the perimeter. Who the hell screwed up like this? Thermal on, thermal on!"

Screams began to come for every direction. The elites were more than I could have imagined. All of the ones that were visible had some weird kind of black armor on, but they were fast and they were deadly. The woman that had dunked her head in the fountain now found herself decapitated and the other soldiers were backpedaling furiously away from the elite. The alien slashed their torsos open before they could reach their weapons, but it fell prey to machine gun fire. I noted that it didn't have any shields on, appearing to fall to our fire too fast.

"AAG-7, ready for an attack!" I shouted into my helmet radio. "Shit, shit, shit!"

Mortar rounds curved gently downwards before exploding with violence that betrayed their true deadliness. I looked up and moved out of the way as more rounds than I cared for began coming down.

"Take cover!"

Fire and brimstone. That's what this scene reminded me off. A soldier from Ragtag was consumed by an explosion. Another woman was thrown to the ground by heated marble.

I'm living in hell I thought calmly. I screwed up big time at some point while I was alive.

"They're attacking!" A panicked voice flooded the combat net.

"Hold the line!" Captain Nezarian's voice roared. "Fire, fire, fire!"

"God-fucking-dammit," I cursed. "Grass, we need something to handle those Wraiths!"

"Sir!"

I turned around as a Warthog almost ran me over. Marv was at the wheel with Mata on the passenger seat. I jumped on the rear and grabbed the Gauss turret, aiming at the nearest gap in our walls. Marv floored the accelerator as he violently shouted for everyone to move. We plowed through a barricade before coming into the pile of debris. An elite climbing over it met the Warthog's grille guard. Blood splattered over the windshield and Marv cursed as he plowed through the elite's squad. Covenant units were beginning to make the run across the street and over the fallen walls.

"There!" I shouted. "Wraith!"

Against all common sense, Marv turned towards it. I fired the Gauss cannon twice, hitting the strong front armor. Regardless, the magnetic weapon punched through the armor. A third and final shot destroyed the plasma supply inside, detonating the tank in a brilliant fireball. Mata cheered and fired his assault rifle at the infantry, hitting a couple of jackals and an elite.

"Hunters!" I shouted, mostly to myself.

I pivoted on my own position and fired one round, tearing a hunter's shoulder off. Its heavy metal shield fell into the ground as it roared in pain. A follow-up shot destroyed its head, torso, and right arm. Even despite the gory show I couldn't help but be amazed that it had survived a direct hit by a Gauss cannon.

Plasma slammed into the 'Hog's armor near my leg. I craned my neck and saw two Ghosts turning around to give chase. I spun the cannon as Marv skidded to avoid the plasma volley. I fired a shot, missing by a couple of feet.

"Fuck."

A second shot was more effective. The round plowed through the front of the Ghost, through the elite, and slammed into the ground behind it, making a sizeable crater. My third shot hit right below the other ghost, sending it up in a backflip. The Ghost came down crashing into the pavement, leaving a nasty smear in place of the grunt pilot.

"Wraith!" Sergeant Mata shouted. "Heads up!"

The mortar hit right in front of us. The shockwave sent the front of the Warthog up in a wheelie. I grabbed onto the Gauss cannon, accidentally firing a shot. Marv violently jerked the wheel, but the front wasn't in any way near the pavement. He slowed down just enough that we slammed back down into a drivable position, catching the Wraith's gunner by surprise. I fired a shot at the tank, hitting the turret. That would've been enough, but I couldn't resist firing a second shot as we turned away. The Wraith crashed into the ground, unable to move or use its cannon, neutralized.

"There's one more near your position," Grass' voice flooded my head. "Tagging it."

"Marv, you got that?"

"Yes, sir!"

For some reason I felt like having sex at that point. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't sporting a raging hard on of any kind, not even a stir down there, but at that point I started thinking that maybe having sex wouldn't have been a bad idea. I missed having Hanna near me on my deployments. I missed her.

"Duck!"

I ducked, but the Daemon shell took out the Gauss cannon.

"It's a fucking tank, Grass!" I complained. "A fucking Daemon!"

"Sorry," she said earnestly.

"Lot of good that does," I bitched. "Mata, you have that grenade launcher?"

"Yes, sir," he said, pulling out the pistol-like device.

"Use it," I ordered, grabbing my own grenade launcher and making sure it was loaded. "Marv, give us an angle."

"Yes, sir!"

Marv floored it, swerving to avoid a second shot. The tank got bigger and bigger, its coaxial guns began firing at us. Fortunately, its size worked against it. It couldn't turn as fast as Marv was swerving.

Mata fired, hitting the tank dead on. The round burrowed deep into the armor before taking out a huge chunk of it. I fired a second later, hitting the same spot. The explosion that followed was a bit bigger, no doubt because I hit something important. Still, the tank could still move. A third shell almost turned us into slag, but Marv deftly avoided it, buying us vital time for a second volley. This time both Mata and I hit simultaneously right above the first spot. The explosion wasn't overly big, but I could tell that we had taken out the crew inside the Daemon. Marv stopped next to the tank and waited for Mata to toss a grenade inside for good measure before flooring the pedal all the way back to base.

"Coming through!" I shouted. "Out of the way!"

To my dismay, I found that Marv was hitting Covenant soldiers from behind. I fired with my battle rifle, catching surprised grunts and jackals in the back. The Covenant had already set up a nice wall inside our perimeter, but they were having trouble getting through. I saw Army units running away from our second line and towards the final one. Most of them were hit in the back by elites and jackals. I shouted something angrily before I noticed that Ramirez was limping away from the advancing Covenant, firing his SAW as he went. His leg was bleeding pretty bad.

"Marv!"

"I'm on it!"

A mortar landed next to us. This time the explosion threw me off the Warthog and made the vehicle spin twice. I cursed as the Warthog nearly crushed me, but then immediately moved in to get Marvin out from underneath the wreck, ignoring the growing pain in my body.

"Mata? Mata? Roderic!"

"I'm fine!" he shouted back. "I'll get Ramirez!"

"Go!" I urged. "Marv?"

No sell. He was knocked out.

I threw him over my shoulders and started moving back towards our last line, wincing as tracer fire flew past me. I looked to the side to see Ramirez kneeling, smoke coming out of his chest piece. He had been hit. I shouted as a carbine round knocked him to his back, where he writhed in agony. Mata got to him, dragging him and throwing him up into his shoulder in one smooth, powerful motion. He looked in my direction and gave me a short nod as he let go of his rifle to carry Ramirez easier.

I ran as fast as I could, but Marv was a big guy and all muscle. Even at this point, strong, fast, and able to suppress most pain, I could barely take a step without tears forming in my eyes. I told myself that the fact that I could walk after being thrown out of a Warthog was a miracle and soldiered on, Marvin's body on my shoulder.

I looked at Mata, who was lagging a little bit behind. I winced as a needle pierced his calf, sending him to his knees.

"Roderic!" I shouted.

He roared and took two more steps, throwing Ramirez over the wall of sandbags before climbing over it himself. Three needles flew at him just as he rolled over the wall. I hit the wall of sandbags myself and came over it with Marv in tow. I shoved one of Nezarian's medics off me.

"Him!" I shouted.

He nodded and began checking on Marv while I ran towards Mata. Already Andy had made it to his position and was furiously working on Ramirez. Mata had three needles in his chest. He had been hit after all.

"Don't breath!" I shouted. "Don't move, Mata!"

He looked at me and then down at the glowing needles in his chest. He took a small breath and all three crystals glowed a little bit brighter.

"I'm a goner, aren't I?" he asked quietly, every word making the needles glow more.

"Not just yet," I said.

"I think they got my heart," he said. "It's not gonna stop beating."

The movement would make the crystals explode. He was right. He was a goner.

"Shit," I muttered.

Mata took another breath, wincing. "Is Ramirez ok?"

I looked at my other man and Andy, who had removed his helmet and was furiously applying foam into his wounds.

"Yes," I said. "He's fine."

"Good."

"Mata, it was an honor," I told him, making sure my voice wouldn't break. I reached for his neck and grabbed his dogtags. "You won't be forgotten."

"The honor was all mine, sir," he replied, even more weakly.

The three needles were almost at the point where they would explode. Sergeant Roderic Mata looked down at his chest and then to me.

"It's a damn shame, at least one of us will make it," Mata said. He turned away from me, summoning the last of his strength to face away as the needles finally detonated. I couldn't see the results directly, but the blood splatter on the sandbags was more than enough for me.

I turned away from Mata, clutching his dogtags in my hand.

"Sir…" Andy said, looking up at me from Ramirez.

I looked at her as she shook her head and closed Ramirez' eyes.

"Push them back!" Nezarian was shouting. "Camilla, we need that air support!"

"It's on its way!" she shouted back. "Badger is about to be overrun!"

"Where the hell's Falcata?" Pavel asked. "We need support."

---

Night fell and the screams of the dying dwindled.

I knew that it was because they had passed away and not because we had managed to patch them up and ease their pain. If you were still screaming, then it was good news.

"It's been a little quiet lately, hasn't it?" Miri asked.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"See anything?"

"Negative, PFC. You?"

"No movement."

I looked down my scope, aiming at the walls where the Covenant had set up their line. For the past hour or so there hadn't been a single sign of their presence other than the occasional missile flying up to take out our recon drones. I shuffled inside the Falcon gunship, moving the useless side gun out of my way some more, wincing at the noise that I made.

"Maybe they're just tired," Miranda suggested.

It was a reasonable guess, especially seeing all the Covenant corpses on the ground.

"Maybe…"

A shot rang, but it didn't come from our side of the perimeter.

"Easy…" I said, feeling my men tense up behind me. "Easy."

"Looks like we're good," Pavel said after a while. "Communications are finally up."

"Someone took out those jammers," Caboose muttered.

The ground started shaking violently. I looked in every direction and slid back out from the crashed Falcon, looking up. A CCS-class battlecruiser flew over the city, its purple lighting giving it a strangely sinister appearance. It flew past our position and down to the far side of the city, where the battle had long since been lost. A few seconds later it fired, beginning its glassing.

"Shit," I muttered. "Grass?"

Her voice sounded tired. "Captain Flatt is calling in for evac. All the civilians are out or moving down to the bunkers."

"I want out, Grass," I told her. "I'm not staying here."

"Understood," she said. "Marina will fly you out."

"Alright. I'll handle business."

I quickly let my men know what was happening. I made sure to get through to their little brains that the Covenant hadn't evacuated just yet, which meant that a battle was still a possibility. My men nodded back, but they were relived, there was no doubt about that. I sighed to myself and moved back into position, scanning for enemy movement.

"Shit, they're attacking!"

It was the largest assault since the one that had cost me two of my men. This time we were more prepared, having fortified positions and overlapping fields of fire. The machine guns on the main entrance fired, but the Covenant were swarming us with Ghosts, Revenants, and dozens of soldiers. I fired, hitting elites and jackals, but the aliens seemed to be ignoring their own wellbeing.

Nothing interesting happened for at least fifteen minutes, until the rotors of a Falcon flooded my ears. Again I looked up, only just catching the sight of a Falcon moving overhead. It fired at something that I couldn't see, but a stream of bright blue plasma disappeared.

"It's taking out the turrets," I muttered. "Ok, we're gonna be able to pull out now."

Despite the assistance up top, there was still plenty of infantry to handle on our end of the program. We ground the enemy force into nothing as they threw themselves at us. Explosions rocked their ranks and every bullet seemed to hit its mark. The defenders were tired, but they were more angry than anything. We all wanted to get out of this goddamned tower and nothing was about to stop us.

The Covenant were out of tanks. That proved to be our salvation; their assault was mainly focused on the air, as they attacked the civilian contractors and employees working on the top of the tower. Grass had stopped communicating with us after saying that she was climbing down. I wondered if Noble Team was still upstairs with most of those civilians, but then returned my attention to the advancing hunters.

I fired at them twice before the massive machine guns fired on them, literally tearing them to shreds before they could do anything of note. The biggest threat was the Revenant tanks strafing around, but even they couldn't stand against the 20mm automatic fire bearing upon them. We ran out of ammunition just before we took out the last Revenant, but Bee finished it off himself. Now it was just a contest of infantry.

The Covenant fell back.

"I thought they would last longer," Pavel muttered.

I looked up to see that there were no longer any plasma volleys coming at the tower. No doubt that Falcon had taken them out.

"Who was that?" I asked absent mindedly.

"That was Noble Six;" Grass said.

"Oh, you're here," I noted. "Was it getting too cozy up there?"

"Banshees were hitting everywhere," she said. "Noble was helping out, but they couldn't really do much from there. Six came to the rescue."

"How is he?" I asked. "I thought he was dead."

"Well, he's not exactly my good friend," Grass said. "He hadn't landed by the time I left."

"Just curious," I shrugged. "Flatt?"

"She's on her way," Grass said. "Are your men ready to pull out?"

"That's their favorite method," I said, drawing chuckles.

"Marina's on her way. Now we just have to wait."

I heard Phantoms and began panicking, but then I saw that they were flying away from us. I sighed with relief until I saw just how fast they were going.

"They're evacuating," Pavel said. "Pretty fast too."

"Marina, what's your ETA?" Grass asked, urgency creeping into her voice.

"Right on top of you," she replied.

I heard six or seven Pelicans and started running towards Marina's. My radiation sensors started going wild, alarms began ringing all over the place.

"Shit, radiation flare! Hurry!"

I looked up and saw the source as a battlecruiser opened up its maw, preparing to fire down on us.

"Hurry!" Marina urged.

Dotsenko was carrying Ramirez' with him, placing him on the blood tray. Marv and Pitcher carried Mata into the Pelican as Grass and a sprinting Captain Flatt jumped inside Marina's Pelican. The rear hatch doors closed immediately as our helmets scrambled.

"Get out of here!" I shouted.

"Wait!"

I cursed, but a shockwave rocked the Pelican sideways violently, even in the ground. I heard an explosion coming from outside the ship, no doubt an unfortunate pilot that hadn't been able to get his ship under control. I blessed Marina in all the ways I could think as she took off, climbing up as fast as possible. The little window on the rear showed Olympic as sections of it fell off, crashing down on the courtyard that we had fought so hard to defend. FLEETCOM HQ, our last stronghold in New Alexandria, disappeared under the glassing of the cruiser. I closed my eyes as it fired again, making my vision go white.

"Did Falcata make it out?" I asked.

"They had their Pelican," Flatt said. "Most of AAG-29 also made it out I think."

"Noble?" I asked.

"They were still on the building. Might've found their way to a shelter."

Marina sped off, leaving the once-beautiful city behind. Not much remained now. A few buildings still stood here and there, but most of the city had been glassed and the rest would soon follow. I wondered what had happened to the friends that I once had here. Marie Megalos, that pretty hostess I used to have a thing with. No doubt she had moved up in life since then. A third stream of energy hit the area around the tower, lighting the night up brightly. Not much remained of New Alexandria now, just dust and echoes of what had once been the symbol of humanity's presence in this planet.

---

Thanks to Colonel-Commissar2468 for proofreading this chapter.

The deaths are piling up gents. Every time you don't review I kill off a beloved character. Relax, I'm kidding. I was probably gonna kill them off anyways. And I'm (mostly) joking about my obsession with reviews. It's not like I like the warm fuzzy feelings that I get when someone compliments my story-telling abilities.

This was a big chapter, almost 15,000 words in all. Frankly, I think it was a good one, even if the defending a fortress part is a little bit overdone. I wish that I could change it up a little, but the defensive nature of the Fall of Reach means that most battles are going to be defensive. I mean, just look at Halo: Reach, all missions are defensive in nature and there's at least one section where you have to hold for a certain degree of time. Other than that I can't do much about it except when I add those battles that aren't mentioned in canon or aren't really expanded upon. On the other side of this chapter, we had a fair amount of conversation and baddassery. In fact, I wrote a large section of this while listening to military cadences. I want to apologize to international readers for not including more variety, I just had US and Mexican cadences in this chapter. Nohdby mentioned that he liked having international nits brought up in the story, and while I love giving the Halo Universa a little more flavor, the UNSC is a separate entity from most Earth nations. In my head it works like this: if you're mexican you can join the Mexican Army or the UNSC. If you're Vietnamese you can join the Vietnames Army or the UNSC. Basically this means that the Ghurkas, the SAS, and the Spetsnaz GRU still exist, but their importance and usefulness has been greatly reduced since the Earth has been united under the UEG. At one point I mentioned that Serge had fought in the regional conflicts on Earth. That's what national armies do (at least for the purposes of this fic). If France is attacked by Switzerland, their armies duke it out without the UEG or the UNSC intervening, you feel me? Of course, once we get to Earth things might become more interesting.

On a related note. The UNSC is based of the larger initial suppliers of troops to its numbers. FOr me the obvious answer would be the world powers. We have the URNA, China, and Russia as obvious choices for it. Throw in some heavy French, English, German, and Indian presence with some Brazilian and South African there if you want, but Halo has consistently portrayed the UNSC as based on current day US military forces, so there's not much I can do to give it a more international look other than through the people serving in it.

Rest assured that I have read all your reviews and have considered all of them. Most questions can't be answered without giving away some part of the plot and your suggestions are all considered. Some of them might even make it into the story, but not all of them can be made to fit to the outline that I have planned. Despite that, know that I appreciate your thoughts and concerns very much.

One question that I can answer, however. Allen: Albaf was killed when the Inconvenience was destroyed.

Music for today is: Cassandra by Two Steps From Hell, Arrival by Neil Davidage, Lost Generation by Audiomachine. I'm going to throw two other ones that you might want to listen to as well: Foreplay Long Time by Boston (a rock classic) and The Reluctant Heroes by Hiroyuki Sawano (soundtrack).

Other than that I pretty much said all that I needed to say. It's good to be back guys, even if I wasn't gone for that long. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and look forward to your opinions.

Stay strong.

-casquis