Chapter CCVI: Patterns

August 24, 2552 (UNSC Calendar)/

Esztergom (Ezhtergom), Viery Territory, Reach, Epsilon Eridani System

"The more things change, the more they stay the same." – Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr

We made landfall a bit harder than Marina would've liked, but her ship was all but falling apart by this point. Hundreds of Pelicans, Falcons, and Hornets were taking off and landing in Esztergom Air Force. It was the largest Air Force base in Reach and one of the largest outside of New Alexandria. More than a few thousand men and women were moving through the giant landing pads; refugees, wounded, fresh reinforcements, and war-weary companies all weaved through one another. They all had different looks on their faces, but they all shared those hunched shoulders and lowered eyes.

Captain Flatt had called in beforehand and I smiled at the sight of the welcoming party. My men were there waiting for me at the edge of the landing pad, standing next to a large bus. Snark, Crow, Tank, Lady, and Longworth were all standing with their hands clasped behind their backs. They were all wearing their dress uniforms. Snark and Longworth had their ODST all-blacks, Crow and Tank had their dark green Army uniforms and Lady was wearing the Navy whites. They looked somewhat out of place, especially Crow, whose face was completely covered with bandages. They all looked somewhat uncomfortable, but the moment they heard about the loss of two of their comrades they had insisted on wearing the dress uniforms to receive them.

Grass was the first one off, climbing down and making sure that her MA5K was properly attached to the magnetic plates on her vest. Captain Flatt climbed out shortly after, making way for ground personnel to move stretchers in. They moved Ramirez and Mata into the stretchers with utmost care, keeping their eyes from meeting ours.

Bee immediately moved towards Snark and enveloped him in a very unprofessional bear hug, lifting the smaller man off the ground and shaking him vigorously.

"Oh-ho-ho!" Snark huffed, taking shallow breaths. "I missed you too, yah big Scottish bastard."

Bee put Snark down before embracing the other members of AAG-7 in more modest hugs, smiling as he spoke to each of them. The last time I had seen them they had all been either unconscious or in terrible pain. It was good to see them up and running again.

"Lieutenant," Longworth said, smiling a little bit.

"Adrian," I greeted. "How's the back?"

"Better, three little scars is all that's left."

"Good," I said. "Mobility?"

"A hundred percent."

"Natasha?" I asked Lady. "Still seeing double?"

"Ready for action," she said.

"Well, you might have to wait a little bit. I secured two days' worth of leave for us."

I could sense their frustration, but they knew that we had been fighting violently for the last few days. They knew we needed the rest even if they were looking for a little payback.

"Tank, Crow," I nodded at the former Army troopers and they nodded back. "How are you doing?"

"Limp's almost gone, sir," Tank said. "Still a little bit of pain, but the doctor cleared me."

"You?" I asked Crow's bandaged face.

"I'm an ugly mother fucker now," he grunted. "But I can fight."

"Good, we'll make your face pretty once we get out of here, see if the girls want to kiss you again."

"Sir."

I sighed and stretched my sore shoulders. I wasn't feeling too well.

"Funeral's at seventeen hundred hours," I said. "Military Cemetery. In the meanwhile, do whatever you want. Drink yourselves to death, jerk it or whatever it is you guys do in your free time. No fucking each other, alright? Ok, I don't even care. I just want you there on time. Everybody, on the bus."

"Frank," Pavel whispered. "You're getting incoherent."

"I'm tired," I said. "We'll visit the girls tomorrow morning, ok?"

"Sounds good," Pavel said. "I need some sleep and Amber can wait."

"You can go today if you want," I told him.

"I wouldn't do that to you, Frank," Pavel said. "It's a small sacrifice and you look like you're about to fall on your ass."

"Thanks," I said, moving inside the bus.

Staff Sergeant Grigori "Caboose" Konstantinov

My eyes traced Lieutenant Castillo as he made his way into his apartment buildings. This whole area had been evacuated a few days ago and looters had made their way through the various stores. A few civilians still remained, and the ones that were close stared in wonderment as he crossed the street with full battle armor and a dazed look in his eyes. I wondered whether we should've accompanied him into his room, but he had literally ordered us against it, saying that everybody needed as much rest as possible.

We were still going to be in the bus, so I didn't see the logic behind that.

Well, not everybody was still in the bus, only Pavel, Camilla, Captain Flatt, and I remained.
Flatt turned over her shoulder to make sure that the driver wasn't listening in and then looked at Pavel.

"How is he?" she asked.

"I've never seen him this tired," Pavel said. "Not even on Paris IV."

Flatt looked at me and I simply nodded in agreement.

"He was looking… dazed. Should we worry about that?"

"No," Pavel said firmly. "He's just tired."

"So his… issues aren't acting up?"

"No," Pavel repeated, this time with an edge to his voice. "I've seen Frank when he goes nuts and it's nothing like this. I'd get worried if his mood starts swinging wildly or he starts cheating on his girlfriend."

"Ok, I'll take your word for it," Flatt said, leaning back on the bus. "Camilla, anything you want to add?"

"I'm with Pavel on this one," Cam said. "I can't speak for his future state of mind, but right now he's fine."

"Good," the Captain said, running a hand through her hair. "Is there anything else about the team we should know about? The men looked happy to be home."

"More like happy to be safe," Pavel grunted. "Either way, they seem fine to me. Crow's got me a bit worried with his face and everything. He was a good looking man before it was burned off."

"He'll survive," Cam said. "He seemed to me as more of an angry cynic than anything else. He'll be looking for some payback."

"We all are," Pavel added. "Ma'am, if you don't mind me asking, how will we be working? Where exactly are we in the chain of command right now?"

"Team-7 and Team-29 are all that's left of AAG. There are some Spartan teams still functional, but those fall directly under NAVSPECWAR."

"Don't we?" Pavel asked.

"Yes, but we're a rung down the ladder," Flatt admitted. "I've still got some friends; we'll be back in the fray before too long, doing what we do best."

"What's going to happen to Cam?" Pavel asked.

"Good question," Cam agreed.

"For now she'll remain as Team-7's uplink to command," Flatt said. "I'll be working with Nezarian and 29."

I leaned back, relaxed now that we had a future in this battle.

"Anything you'd like to mention, Grigori?" Flatt inquired.

I shook my head slightly. "Things seem well. There's no need to get nervous about anything. As soon as Castillo gets his head cleared up we're all good to go. He's got that kind of personality."

"Tell me about it," Flatt mused. "Sometimes I feel like I'm the one that needs to be respectful around him."

Pavel laughed. "He wasn't always like that, you know?"

"Wasn't he?" Grass asked.

"No," Pavel confirmed. "When I first met him he was lost and had just found out his last, well, second to last family member had died. I was in much worse condition, my whole unit had been wiped out."

"We've heard this story before," Cam interrupted. "I want to know how he was."

"He was a very funny guy, still is… sometimes. More than anything he was out to enjoy life as much as possible. You should've seen him in a bar, I don't think there was a single time that he left there without the hottest girl clinging to his arm. He loved to show off his knife to anyone that cared to watch and was always up for a good brawl."

"Sounds normal," Flatt said.

"Exactly," Pavel agreed. "Back then his biggest problem was his ego."

"One could argue it still is," Cam muttered. "But I agree that he's toned it down quite a bit."

"Imagine him back then. Serving on the Inconvenience, a ship that was practically freelance, didn't help matters either. What else? Well, he always had a smirk on his face, an annoying smirk that drew the anger of whoever was unlucky enough to think him an easy target. Not a lot of people made that mistake, mind you. He was 6'2 and over 200 pounds of pure muscle even back then. Before the… you know."

We all nodded.

"When did it start?"

"Ten years ago," Pavel said. "After Aztlan. We both nearly died there, but he was at that point for a couple of days before finally coming back to life. It didn't truly start a few months later, I think, he doesn't like to talk about this much. Anyways, he would stare off into nothing or would just seem to focus on listening to something that wasn't there. It didn't strike me as serious back then, but looking back on it I should've noticed that something was wrong. Everything started falling apart for him then, but he kept it under control for a very long time."

"And under wraps," I added. "The first mention in his dossier about personality disorders wasn't there until a few years later."

"Only Marina knew," Pavel said. "She helped some. A lot of credit goes to her."

"Sometimes I wonder why they broke up," Cam muttered under her breath. "She was too good for him."

"It's more like Frank is bad for anybody that comes across." Pavel sighed. "His family died at a young age. There's some issues with his brother that-"

"Brother?" I asked.

"Exactly, I didn't know anything about it until recently," Pavel admitted. "I have no idea what went on there, but obviously it bothers him and has affected him. Top that off with the death of his friends from boot camp, his uncle, fourteen unlucky bastards that served with us in the Inconvenience and you get a very unhappy camper."

"Poor bastard," Flatt said. "When they handed me his dossier they said almost nothing about his mental health. His accomplishments were written in a very flattering light, almost awestruck. That doesn't happen on dossiers very often. What he did must've been very impressive."

"He's the best fighter I've ever known," Pavel said. "Even before the augmentations he was better than anybody I've ever seen. The only thing that comes close is probably Marvin and even then I'm being generous. He always liked showing off and looking good. You wouldn't believe the amount of time he spent on the gym trying to get exactly the look that he wanted. He wanted to be a big guy, but not so big that it seemed too much, he wanted his muscles toned, but didn't want to sacrifice mass. Shit, if you could hear him talk about it you'd probably laugh yourselves to death."

"He's a good looking man," Cam admitted. "Nothing wrong with wanting to look good."

"He didn't just want to look good, he wanted to be good. I don't know if it had anything to do with his stunts, but a lot of times he'd point out that a certain kill, or jump, or whatever would've made for a great take. It's like he wanted to impress somebody."

"Daddy issues?" Flatt asked

"Maybe, he doesn't talk much about his family. The thing is, everybody was always impressed by whatever he did. Whether it was killing thirty aliens by himself, downing lasagna intended for eight people, or talking himself into a threesome, no one was ever unimpressed by anything he did."

I chuckled. I knew I was a cold person, but I would not be allowed to call myself a man if I said I didn't fantasize about a threesome. Repeatedly.

"Then?" Flatt urged him.

"Then something went wrong. My theory is that someone royally screwed up when they messed with him and then it exploded when he flat-lined two years later in Aztlan. Caboose, you mentioned something about him only just being a match for the genetic parameters or whatever."

"He was a good enough match for the S-II program," I said, "but only just. I think he was four slots from being picked, but he was too young at the time. He would've been two years old when the first class was drafted. It's a good thing too, because had there been a second class he would've been too old. Thing is, the Spartans had their own personalized augmentations, designed according to their own genetic code and other factors, but they half-assed it with Frank."

"How do you know?" Cam asked me.

"I can read a lab report well enough," I assured her. "And the dossier that ONI gave me all but admitted it."

"Did you get dossiers on all of us?" Cam asked. "Just curious."

I nodded. "Smaller ones on the rest of Reaper, but I wanted to know you before I jumped into something like this."

A few years ago Pavel would've jumped me for saying something like that. Shouting about betraying their trust and whatnot. He had grown used to the idea that I had worked for ONI, spying on them.

"Why are they still working with him?" Flatt asked. "Had they asked me about a mentally unstable man with knowledge of the most controversial and dangerous secrets that the UNSC has I would've recommended immediate termination. I don't know a lot of ONI people that would've disagreed with me."

"Be that as it may," Pavel said calmly and carefully. "Frank isn't crazy. Well, he is, but not just any kind of crazy."

"He should be," Flatt said.

"But he's not," Cam interceded in Pavel's favor.

"And we should all be thankful for that," Flatt muttered.

"And woe to the Covenant," I said.

"Oorah!"

First Lieutenant Francisco Castillo

"What a beautiful funeral," Schitzo repeated for what must've been the tenth time. "I mean it."

It had been a terrible ceremony, the chaplain had stumbled over his words over his fatigue and the bodies had been hastily prepared for the cremation ceremony, with ill-fitting uniforms on them. What annoyed us the most was that we were unable to get their own dress uniforms with their campaign ribbons and medals that they had earned. A funeral in their armor would've been better, but the UNSC couldn't spare their armor even if it was damaged. We all said a few words and that was that. Two bodies were cremated in a ceremony meant for four. We hadn't been able to recover Preacher's corpse from the debris and making a stop in New Alexandria to get Payat had been out of the question.

A horrible ceremony.

Luckily for me, there was one thing that remained constant in Esztergom. The Grenadier. I walked inside the bustling military bar. This time it was full like I had never seen it. Two thirds of the clientele were wearing full battle armor and had their rifles slung over their shoulders. I noticed that all of their weapons had the magazines removed and the safety on as I walked in. Good call on Montgomery's part.

"Excuse me lieutenant, I'm gonna have to ask you to- Frank!"

I turned to face Lys, lovely barmaid extraordinaire. I gave her a weak smile that she returned before embracing me in a hug. She had taken care of me whenever I drank myself into oblivion. I owed her a lot.

"It's good to see you Lys," I told her, thinking about the other Liz, Katie's cousin. "Is Cap around?"

"Yeah, still at the bar, as always."

"Good," I said. "I need some familiarity."

"We haven't heard from you in so long…" she began. "Montgomery said it was best not to jinx it, to not talk about it."

"Wise man. I made it here, didn't I?"

"Yes you did," she agreed. "Where's the rest of the team?"

"Resting," I said.

"Did anybody…" Lys trailed off, pursing her lips and looking up at me.

I nodded, a small frown creasing my browns. "We lost Hipólito early in the fighting. Chang, and Aaron a few days later. Roderic and James were killed yesterday."
Lys covered her mouth. "So many… I'm so sorry, Frank."

"They died well," I assured her, grabbing her arm lightly. "Have things been rough here?"

"Business is booming," she joked with a noticeable lack of humor. "Otherwise we're pretty bad off. Montgomery had to fight off looters a few times."

"Did he use those?" I asked, pointing at the ancestral AK-47s hanging on the wall behind the bar.

"Nope, but believe it or not, he cleaned them and got them back in working order."

I raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise. "Those things? Aren't they like four hundred years old? Five?"

"Yeah, but they've been maintained properly all throughout those years. How he got the proper ammunition, I don't know. He said something about 7.62mm but I doubt that they're the same kind you guys use."

"I use 9.5," I told her.

"What?"

"Nothing, you're right. MA5s use 7.62mm, but I'm not sure about the AK-47s."

"Does it matter all that much?" she asked.

"Not really," I admitted, shrugging slightly. "Still got some of that Alt Burgundy in the backroom?"

Lys shook her head sadly. "No. Montgomery wasn't able to get another bottle. Something about there only being a few dozen bottles left in the universe."

"A few dozen," I sighed. "I'm down to my last quarter of Alt. Gonna have to pick it up before I leave."

"You rascal. And you've been buying it here?"

"Yes."

Lys laughed and shook her head before leading me towards my favorite stool in the bar. Surprisingly enough it was empty. She shouted for two large soldiers to get out of the way and make room for me. They looked like they wanted to complain, but once they saw that I had a few inches on them they stopped. They turned around and decided to forget all about me the moment they realized I was wearing an ODST uniform. It was one of my oldest uniforms, I had found it in my apartment, hidden out the back of the closet. I hadn't been able to beat all the dust from it and the water wasn't coming in to the neighborhood.

"Ah, if it isn't my favorite Helljumper," Montgomery said as he dried the counter in front of me and placed a glass. "Good to see you kickin' son."

"Good to be," I told him.

We didn't call Montgomery Captain for anything. He had earned that rank and had led men into battle during the Insurrection and during the Harvest Campaigns. He had seen men die and knew how it felt to have those under your command perish in the line of duty.

"How many?"

"Five."

"Shit. You good, son?"

"Yes, sir," I assured him. "Nothing a few days of rest and a good drink won't fix. They died brave deaths."

Montgomery poured me a double of a nice whiskey and gave himself a single shot.

"To the fallen," he said quietly.

"To the fallen," I repeated. "Cause they're the lucky bastards."

"Amen to that," Montgomery chuckled. "Swimming in the clouds and getting it on with angel ladies. To me heaven is about sex, son."

"Aren't you married?" I asked him.

"Indeed, but in heaven my wife won't care, she'll let me do whatever I want."

"I'm not entirely sure it works that way, Cap."

He shook his head and smiled. "To the fallen."

"To the fallen."

I downed my drink with one big gulp.

"Enjoy it, son," Montgomery said. "Call me for a refill."

"Will do," I said, directing my eyes to the screens. They were playing an old gravball game from a few years back. One of the classics.

I ordered a few beers, stout ales that claimed to use the ancient Zimbabwean techniques used in Southern Africa during the twenty second century. I didn't care if their claims were true, I just enjoyed the alcohol for what it was. I mentally cheered for one of the two teams playing on the screen, but only because I didn't know which one had won back when they played the game. It was a good distraction, the fluidity of gravball coupled with the constant hits made it a fun sport to watch.

"Where's Pavel?" Montgomery asked me when he had the chance. "Not gonna show up?"

I shook my head. "He went home again, his wife is in the spaceport waiting for evacuation and they left their dog alone. It had enough food, but the poor animal was very confused."

"Ah, dogs. I hadn't thought about them…"

I nodded. "At least they won't know what's happening if it comes."

"Most are gonna starve, aren't they?"

If we manage to hold the Covenant that long…

I just nodded.

Montgomery poured the guy next to me what must've been his twentieth refill of cheap vodka and gave me a look before he moved on to the other side of the bar to attend other clients. I looked to my side and slightly shook my head at the sight of three empty glasses as well as plenty of beer bottles. The poor guy seemed like he couldn't keep his head from falling down but still he drank.

The man, a corporal, moved and accidentally knocked down my beer. He was lucky I wasn't in a particular mood and the bottle was empty, because that was an offense big enough to warrant a day or two in the hospital.

"Easy there," I muttered, just enough threat in my tone. "Might want to stop drinking."

He shook his head.

"Why are you drinking, kid?" I asked him.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked, voice bitter.

"What's your name, corporal?" I asked, letting authority creep into my voice.

"Anderson, Jacob, sir."

"Stop drinking, son," I ordered. "We might have to fight any moment and your comrades rely on you not to be hungover as fuck. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now answer me. Why are you drinking?"

"Why are you drinking?" he shot back. His words slurred a bit, but not as much as I would've expected them to.

"I'm drinking," I began, "because five of my men are dead. Because my home is under attack, and because life is a fucking mess for me. I, however, will not drink enough to endanger those that I lead."

The man paused and put down his vodka, edging it in my direction with a defeated look on his face. I grabbed the glass and downed it myself, shaking my head at the horrible taste.

"My wife," Anderson said. "She died."

"I'm sorry, son," I said, reaching for my own beer to wash away the taste of cheap vodka. "When?"

"I just got word that our home was glassed. I should've been there."

"You would've died too," I told him.

"If the fucking UNSC would've let me go home to her, I could've done something… anything."

"Like what?" I asked him with a sigh. "Fight off an armada? Son, I'm sorry your wife is done, but you couldn't have done anything about it. Mourn her and be thankful that you'll be able to avenge her death."

"You don't understand!" he shouted angrily. "She shouldn't have even been there in the first place. It's the UNSC's fault that she died!"

A few heads turned in our direction after his outburst.

"Listen son, I know that the UNSC isn't all good and dandy, but they didn't kill your wife. It was the Covenant that did. Don't get angry with the wrong people."
Anderson was looking at his lap, gripping the bar tightly with both hands.

"They're the only thing keeping humanity alive right now," I went on, trying to calm him down. Why do you care so much? Let him drink himself to death.

"Whether you like it or not."

The drunken corporal suddenly threw a punch my way. I was so surprised by it that I couldn't avoid or block it in any way, instead I rolled my jaw slightly away so that he wouldn't break his wrist against my face. Even then it hurt more than it should've. The guy packed a punch. Unfortunately for him, so did I. I grabbed his fist as he attempted to hit me a second time and then hit him in the gut. Hard.

The man gagged and turned around on the stool, falling on the ground. A second later he threw up all the alcohol that he had just consumed, drawing complaints and words of annoyance from other patrons.

I shook my head and returned to my beer.

Don't do it…

The idiot decided that it would be a good idea to try and hit me again, this time with a beer bottle. I turned and caught his wrist as it came down. He tried hitting me with his free arm, but I blocked the punch and pried the bottle from his hand, breaking it against his jaw and knocking him back down to the ground. Still he refused to stay there and got back up in a fighting stance.

"Really, Anderson?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He didn't say anything, instead swinging for my head. I ducked underneath the blow.

"You don't want to do this."

He roared and swung wildly again, drawing jeers from the people in the bar.

"Don't kill him!" I heard Montgomery yell from behind the bar.

Anderson hit me again, but the punch was weak. I let it make contact with my elbow and countered with a jab to his chin, stunning him.

"Enough, corporal!" I shouted. "This is your last warning!"

He kicked at my legs. I almost rolled my eyes as I took a step backwards and avoided the kick. I grabbed his right arm as he tried to punch me and dragged him towards my direction, stepping sideways as I did so. Once he was close enough to the bar I gripped the back of his neck tightly and slammed his face down where I had been drinking. He came back up and groaned in pain, a nice, bloody line on his forehead. I slammed him back down, breaking the bridge of his nose for good measure.

As he came back towards me I threw him to the floor where he writhed in agony for a few seconds. I raised my eyebrows in grudging respect when he struggled to get back to his feet and face me. The respect immediately disappeared when he started reaching for his sidearm.

The bar went quiet.

"Think carefully about your next move, son," I warned, moving my hand towards my knife. "Or it will be your last."

Marines were moving their hands towards their own pistols and even the Army soldiers that had been cheering on the man from their branch seemed offended that he had stooped so low in a situation like this.

The man was beyond reasoning. He drew and aimed.

I was faster than he could've predicted or perhaps even imagined. I had my hand on him before he could get his finger in the trigger guard. A nice, deep cut to the back of his hand made him drop the weapon and a second later he was laying on a table with my knife coming down on his throat.

"No wait, stop!"

I turned to look at the source of the voice. Another Army trooper, this one a staff sergeant.

"And why would I do that?" I asked him, pressing my knife against Anderson's throat.

"He drew first," a Marine supported me.

No Army soldier raised his voice to defend Anderson.

"He's drunk. His wife just died," the sergeant told me. "He has a bad history with UNSC and likely took it all out on you, Lieutenant."

"What's your name, Staff?" I asked.

"Taylor Adders, sir."

"Can you guarantee that this fuckwad will never wear a uniform again, Taylor Adders?" I asked. "Or that he'll never have the privilege of being called anything remotely similar to defender of humanity?"

Adders looked down at Anderson's bleeding face. The corporal writhed in my grip, but I squeezed his throat, interrupting the oxygen supply to his brain briefly enough for his vision to black slightly.

"Taylor. Please…"

Adders looked back at me and nodded. "I'll make sure that he's dishonorably discharged, sir. Just don't kill him."

"Good," I said, pulling my knife back from his throat. "Take him before I change my mind."

Staff Sergeant Adders moved to pick up his man as I moved back to my stool, wondering whether I should wipe the blood myself. Halfway across the bar I sensed the commotion. A few of the men looking intently at the fight began opening their mouths and their eyes widened. The hair on the back of my neck stood and I felt the danger. I heard the familiar click and spun.

I don't know why I spared him. In the end I think I didn't want to kill a human being after having seen two of my men's dead faces so recently. Anderson had managed to get his hands on Adder's pistol and was raising it towards me. I began aiming for the throat, but instead decided to let the bastard live. The knife was flying before he could even aim properly. It went through his wrist all the way to the hilt.

Anderson looked at his hand in disbelief as I approached.

"Ah…" he said weakly.

I yanked my knife violently and shoved Adders backwards before delivering a vicious kick to the injured man's ribs. I wondered whether I should stop, but instead I stomped on his other hand with the heel of my combat boots three times in a row, drawing cries of pain.

"Get him out of here," I ordered Adders. "He might lose the hand."

"He fucking deserves it," he replied, dragging his man up none-too-gently. "I apologize, sir."

"Just get him out of my sight," I grunted, wiping my knife on Anderson's cheek, making a small cut near his cheekbone and leaving his face even more covered in blood.

"Yes, sir," Adders replied, elbowing the corporal as he dragged him away from the bar.

A Marine spat into Anderson's back as he stumbled out of the bar.

"I should've broken his legs," I said to myself.

Once the man was safely out of the bar Lys picked up his abandoned sidearm and complained about having to mop the blood from the hardwood floors. Montgomery shouted for her to hurry up before it seeped into the ancient wood, making some of the people laugh and returning some of the ambiance to the Grenadier. A few guys tipped their glasses to me as I sat down and patted me on the back for showing the man where he belonged. Most of those guys were Marines, but a few troopers approached to say that Anderson had stained their branch of the UNSCDF for behaving like that, especially at a time like this.

I nodded politely to all those that approached and eventually they realized that I wanted to be left alone.

"Oi, Cap, just saw a lovely pair in the corner, one with an injured hand and the other cursing like no other. What's that all about."

Montgomery looked at the source of the familiar voice and then nodded in my direction.

A Marine sat down in the now-empty stool next to mine. He was an ODST just like me. He was an ODST that I was very familiar with.

"Well, shit," he grunted. "Castillo. Why did you almost kill that man? What'd he do to piss you off?"

"Darbinian," I greeted the Helljumper Captain irritably, not answering his question. "I see you still waste your time on hair product."

The man growled, but he didn't say anything.

"Where have you been?" he asked instead.

"New Alexandria."

"Shit. My men were deployed to protect ground transports leaving the city. I heard it went to shit a day later."

"It was doomed to begin with," I said. "You got lucky."

Darbinian was from the 7th, a notoriously bloodthirsty chapter of the ODST. I would've expected any member of his battalion to take personal offense and challenge me to a fight. Fortunately, Krikor Darbinian knew that in a fair fight I would beat the life out of him before he could land one good punch, but it still didn't mean he would take any shit from me.

That's why I was surprised when he just nodded.

"My company's taken some hard hits," he admitted. "We were in the thick of it when they landed outside the city, it was just us holding the whole line while the Army got their shit together."

"We were at Hégy Valley," I said. "But we weren't alone. Had artillery and Spartan support."

"Lucky bastard," he said. "We didn't have a mountain pass or a good kill zone Castillo; they gave us a box of ammunition and all but told us to fuck ourselves. They had air and armored support and I had a hundred men willing to fight."

"How many did you lose?"

"Forty-two died. Ten more won't be fighting any more."

"I'm sorry," I said genuinely.

Darbinian snorted. "And here I thought I would never hear words of concern coming out of your mouth. What about you Castillo? Deaths? Casualties?"

"Five KIAs," I admitted. "A number of my men were injured, but they're back in action."

"That why you're wearing the all blacks?"

"Yes. Just came from the funeral."

Darbinian nodded but didn't offer his condolences. There was too much history in the past for us. There was nothing but hatred between the two of us. I could respect his ability to lead men and channel their anger into an impressive will to fight and I knew that he either feared or respected my own abilities to kill, but in another time any of our careers would've probably ended by a misplaced grenade or friendly fire.

I finished my beer and swiped my card over the counter, backing up from the bar and leaving Darbinian to himself.

"Good night Cap," I told Montgomery. "Lys, stay safe."

"You too Frank," she replied, giving me one of those lovely smiles that got her high tips.

"Well," I muttered, stepping outside of the bar. "What a fucking awful night."

It was a weird look for me, but it was one that worked. As an officer I was entitled to different uniforms than enlisted men, but the situation called for precaution and readiness, which is was why every serviceman refused to wear only fatigues and no armor whatsoever. I had opted to put on my armored boots and let the built-in plating protect my thighs. I had on a belt with only three spare magazines for my rifle as well as a pair of grenades cradled in between. My shirt was a short-sleeved gray thing with some plating in the chest and abdomen as well as the spine and shoulder blades. It looked somewhat similar to a gravball uniform, but it had a decidedly military look to it. I shook my head at my reflection in the mirror and put on my cap, rounded top in contrast to Pavel's black utility cover.

I looked like I was half-assing war, but I looked very good indeed.

"Stop looking at yourself and let's go," Pavel urged. "I want to see my wife!"

"Sorry," I apologized earnestly. "Let's go."

The drive there was a quick one. There was almost no traffic to interfere with us and our Warthog's markings made it clear that we were important enough that everybody else gave us the right of way. We made it to the spaceport in a short amount of time, but the closer we got the more people we saw. The entire area had been turned into refugee camps, but mostly because nobody wanted to leave and lose their place in the gigantic evacuation line.

Few eyes looked in our direction as we drove through the throng of people, they were used to seeing military vehicles in here.

Pavel parked the car in our assigned lot and he hopped off. He hadn't brought his heavy M247L with him, instead switching to a skeletal-looking MA5K like the one Caboose used. I hefted my larger BR55 HB and crossed the sling across my chest. Normally I would've hung it on the magnetic plates, but the shirt I was wearing was light and would be yanked down by the weight of the rifle, looking weird and feeling uncomfortable.

"This way," Pavel said.

We moved through the checkpoints very quickly. The guards in charge of the place had been made aware of our visit before we even left, they were expecting us and treated us with utmost respect. After a few checkpoints and a long walk we made it into a crowded terminal. Military-issue mattresses had been piled down all over the floor and a few rooms had been erected through the use of poles and tarps or blankets. It didn't smell nice, but there were enough showers in the place that people could clean themselves every third day or so.

"Lieutenant Castillo?" a guard asked me.

I nodded.

"Right this way."

He led us into a small side room that didn't appear to be occupied and closed the door behind us as we went in. Inside the room were two women and one girl.

Katie rushed to hug me while Amber did the same, embracing her husband. Little Lavvie hugged his father's leg before he easily picked her up with one arm and squeezed her tightly. I focused all my attention on the woman in front of me. Katie looked tired, but the moment she smiled I remembered why I had risked everything I built with Hanna to be with her. I smiled back and swooped down for a quick kiss that turned into a very long one.

"I missed you," she said after we broke off.

"I missed you too," I told her, giving her another peck.

I looked down at her and didn't really know what to say. I could tell that she was at a loss for words because she laughed at the same time I did before we both hugged each other tightly, not saying anything at all. I liked the feeling of her in my arms, she was warm and soft against my body. Her hair got caught in my stubble as her head pressed against the bottom of my jaw and we laughed. It happened pretty often, which is why she liked me to shave. I joked that I liked it when she shaved too, but she didn't grow any hair down there, using laser shavers or something like that.

Personally I enjoyed the feeling of a blade and foam, but I had to admit that lasers worked a lot faster and were more effective. However, I still used my knife to shave on occasion. I never ceased wondering why my uncle had decided that shaving with a combat knife was an integral part of my formation as a young boy.

"How have you been?" I asked. "Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, I'm alright," she said. "What about you? You're the one fighting a war, Frank."

I smiled sadly. "I'm fine. A scratch here and there."

"And your hand?" she asked.

I looked at the still recent scar on my left hand. It was easy to tell that something had gone through it once you looked at both sides. I stretched my fingers and looked down as she held my hand, rubbing it gently.

"It's nothing," I assured her, wondering how I would explain to her the other, bigger hole in my thigh. The burns would all disappear without any need for surgery or grafting, but it would be a few weeks.

"It doesn't look like nothing," she complained. "Frank, I hate it when you go."

"Someone has to do it," I told her. "And we're the best there is."

She rolled her eyes. Not because she didn't believe me, but because she was simply tired of watching me go off to fight a war that nobody wanted to fight.

"Does it always have to be you?"

"I'm bringing home the bacon, hon," I jokingly said. We both knew that she made more money than I did, even with my bonuses.

"Right," she muttered, holding me tightly again. "I missed you a lot. Eliza is good company and all, but sometimes I just want to… well. Yeah."

I smiled. "How is Liz, by the way? She good?"

"She's better," Katie told me. "She mostly complains about everything, but at least she's talking."

"And you? How are things?"

"I'm fine. I'm sick of being trapped here, but there's nothing I can do."

I nodded. "The moment they let you, you hop in on a ship and bail on this planet."

"And then what?" she asked. "They're saying that the ships are going to Sol. What the hell am I going to do in Sol?"

"Stick with Amber," I told her. "Pavel has family there. Imagine living in a quaint little village on the Polish countryside."

"Frank, there is no countryside on Earth."

"Shhh," I urged. "You don't know what you're saying."

She struggled half-heartedly but eventually stopped talking. It was true, there was not a lot of pristine nature in Earth, even with reclamation efforts a lot of species had gone extinct and only existed through cloning and artificial means. Back in the twenty-fourth century the oceans had been cleaned up, which meant that most sea life lived as it had for millennia, but the land species were another story altogether. Sure, natural parks dotted the planet and humanity kept to themselves as much as possible, but our numbers had forced us to expand. Now that most garden worlds were gone I would assume that Earth was once again growing its own food, struggling to provide for the colonies in Sol system.

"Poland does sound nice," Katie said. "If only for a little while."

"We can go to Crassus," I said. "The asshole of the galaxy."

"Frank! Lavvie can hear you!"

"Sorry," I said, quickly looking at the young girl, who was busy telling her father all about the new neighbors.

Katie let go and moved back to a metal chair. "Has everything been fine?"

I knew what she was talking about and nodded, even throwing in a smile to assure her that I hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. It hurt me to lie to her like this, but after she kept panicking I decided to tell her that Schitzo no longer appeared. Instead I said that I had auditory hallucinations. She seemed to think that this was better than the alternative, so I kept feeding her the same story.

We talked about her life in the terminal, but she kept asking me questions about my mental health. I don't know how, but she could tell that something was wrong. I didn't want to say anything about Ramirez' death and the others with Lavanya here in the room, but it would have to come up sometime. I shook my head softly when she started prying and she instead returned to the topic of rations and water shortages.

"It's just a little bit longer," I assured her. "One way or the other."

Katie gave me a nod before reaching out to hold my hand. Our conversation from then on became a series of increasingly light-hearted complaints about the nutrition that UNSC meals provided.

"Have you had the chocolate?" I asked her.

She nodded and made gagging noises.

"We're in the twenty-sixth century," I muttered. "You'd think we could make something that actually tastes like chocolate."

"Tell me about it, people are hungry, but nobody wants to eat it. You should be here after we get those as part of a meal. Everybody is trying to offer their chocolate to somebody else so that they don't look wasteful."

I laughed. "Sounds like the trenches. With pillows."

"Maybe you should take a pillow with you next time then," Katie said, raising her eyebrow. "One of those inflatable ones wouldn't harm you."

I opened my mouth. She had a good point. Why had I never thought of that? An inflatable pillow could be compressed to a very small size inside my rucksack or one of my pouches.

"See?" she said. "What would you do without me?"

"I don't know," I admitted, kissing her again.

After that Lavanya interrupted us to give me a big hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek. She was even bigger than I remembered. I hated missing out on her growing up, but I could only imagine how bad it must've been for Pavel. It was his only daughter after all. To think that she was already eight years old.

"How are you?" I asked her, swinging her tiny body around until she was on my shoulder, legs up and head down my back.

"Uncle Frank! My face is in your butt!"

I lowered her down a bit more. "I'm gonna fart!"

"No. Eww!"

I laughed and pulled her back up before setting her down on the floor unceremoniously

"How are you?" I asked again, smiling. I always smiled when I saw her.

"Well, I'm tired of being here," she said matter-of-factly. "I can't go outside to play very often and mom says that it's better to stay next to her, but me and the other kids sometimes play football on the outside."

"What do you play?" I asked her.

"I'm a goalie."

"Oh, nice. Do you like it?"

"No, because I have to throw myself to keep the ball out and the ground is hard so it hurts. See?" She showed me her scratched hands and bruised elbows to make her point.

"Back in the day I was a midfielder," I told her, recalling the pickup games back in Mexico. I tried to remember the names of all my friends, but instead only came up with blank faces kicking the ball. "I was the very best."

"Maybe you could play on my team?" she asked. "Daddy too!"

Pavel laughed. "I don't think it would be very fair to the other kids, sweetheart."

I chuckled. "I would love to, but I don't think I can today."

"It's ok," Lavvie said with a shrug that was disturbingly similar to Pavel's. "It looks like it's going to rain today."

"Indeed it does," I agreed with her. "Katie was telling me about the food here, what do you think?"

She looked at Katie, who smiled at her.

"It sucks!"

"Lavanya!" Amber chided half-heartedly. "Come here, you little rascal."

Lavvie laughed loudly and wriggled away from her mother's hands, running around me and then hiding behind Pavel. Amber made a show of trying to get around her husband's massive shoulders before extending her arms through and pinning her daughter against Pavel's legs. After that she picked Lavvie up and set her on the table. Amber moved to kiss Pavel, who returned her gesture with a little bit more passion than would've been appropriate in front of an eight-year-old child.

"They always kiss like this when daddy comes back from fighting bad guys."

Pavel and Amber broke their kiss before blushing and furiously looking away from their young daughter. She picked up on things.

"It's just because they miss each other," Katie explained with a smile.

"I'm never going to kiss a boy," she said adamantly.

"And a girl?" I asked jokingly.

"Eww Uncle Frank!"

"Yeah, eww," Pavel said with a disapproving shake of his head. "Why don't you show me around, sweetheart? Introduce me to your friends."

Lavvie perked up and grabbed Pavel's massive hands in her own tiny little fingers and led him outside of the room, opening the door for him. Amber followed after them, shaking her head but unable to rid herself of a giant grin on her face.

"How long do we have?" Katie asked me after the door slammed shut.

"Ten minutes," I told her, furiously undoing my belt.

Katie reciprocated, removing her shirt and pants as I tried to yank my own pants past my armored boots. I gave up after two failed attempts and instead pulled my underwear down before doing the same for her. We both went at it furiously and with desperate abandon. I could tell that she had waited for this just as much as I had, because not half of those ten minutes had gone by before the both of us were sweaty and spent. However, I didn't stop just then, instead making sure that she would be able to enjoy that little aspect of female physiology that made me so jealous sometimes.

I'm talking about multiple orgasms, gentlemen.

I only stopped after I hit the nine-minute mark, at which point we both began dressing up, wiping sweat from our faces. I cracked my neck and smiled at her, a gesture that she returned as she squeezed into her underwear. It never surprised me just how good of a body she had, almost as good as Grass, in fact. Precisely ten seconds after ten minutes had passed Pavel's family walked back in. Pavel of course knew what had transpired in the room, in fact we had already made plans for it. Amber was a grown woman, and it didn't take long for her to realize as well, at which point she smiled devilishly and gripped Pavel's waist firmly.

"How about we go kick the ball around some?" I asked Lavvie, lifting her by the waist. "Show me how good a goalie you are."

She turned her little body around in my grip to look at her parents, who just nodded for her to go.

Katie followed after me and as soon as I set her down Lavvie led me towards the outside as she called it. The massive polycrete paved area where the transports could land was smooth and even. It seemed to me like it would become slippery, but as soon as I stepped on it I realized it wasn't so.

"Tony!" Lavvie shouted. "Tony!"

"Hey there champ!" an Army guard said, turning at the mention of her name.

Tony seemed like a weird name for a woman, but I'm not one to judge.

"Tony, this is Uncle Frank, he fights bad guys like my dad!"

"Sir!" Tony snapped a salute.

"At ease," I dismissed her with a smile. "I'm just visiting for now."

"Of course, sir." I could tell that she wanted to say something, probably ask how the war was going, but Lavvie tugging at her ammunition pouches distracted her.

"Can I have the ball?" Lavvie asked. "I want to show my uncle how good I am."

"Of course, champ!" Tony said cheerfully, reaching inside an ammunition box to grab a worn football. "Knock yourself out, kid."

Lavvie gave me the spherical ball and stood in front of a wall that had a goal painted on it with chalk. I set the ball down and juggled it with my feet, remembering skills from my youth in Mexico and Jericho-VII. I had played the sport on occasion, but it had been a while. I managed to keep the ball up, alternating my feet with each small kick.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked Lavanya. "I am known as the striker of death in many planets."

"Bring it on, Striker!" she proclaimed loudly, banging her chest. "I'm known as The Wall in this town!"

"Well, it's time someone broke the wall!" I shouted loudly in as hammy a tone as I could manage, cackling.

I kicked the ball a little bit harder and let it land on my knee before spinning my foot around it before it fell, pressing it against the ground.

"Impressed?" I asked, waggling my eyebrows.

"My own grandmother could do that! And she's in a wheelchair!"

Well, she certainly had the trash-talking down.

I kicked the ball, hard but close enough that she could block it. I knew that she wouldn't shy away from it, not if she was anything at all like her father or her mother. I was proven right. She extended both hands and deflected the strike. The ball bounced back gently towards my feet.

"Ah, I see your name is well-earned," I said. "Perhaps my young apprentice could use the challenge."

"She'll be no challenge to me," Lavvie said, laughing like a maniac.

Katie looked at me and rolled her eyes as I kicked the ball towards her. She had no idea what to do with it. She hadn't been the kind of girl to play team sports in high school, instead keeping to cross-country and track and field. Her body was a testament of the hours that she spent in the gym and the healthy lifestyle that she led, but all the athleticism in the world wouldn't help you if you booted the ball thirty feet in the air and hit the window above the goal.

I turned to Katie with a frown.

"What?!" she complained.

"Really Aunt Katie?" Lavanya asked with her hands on her hips as the ball bounced down.

I kicked the ball again, this time by surprise. Lavvie dove and got it out, but it hit the chalk post.

"Gooooooooooooooooooooooal!" I yelled loudly.

"Was not!" Lavvie shouted back.

I ignored her and instead sailed around with my arms extended like plane wings. Lavvie chased me while complaining that I hadn't scored, eventually catching up to me and trying to pin my arms against my sides. I simply let her cling to my left arm and kept moving with it completely extended to the side. I stopped after a few seconds before anybody realized that it was a rather unnatural feat of strength, even if Lavvie was only about sixty pounds.

"It was not a goal!" she said adamantly.

"Well, maybe it wasn't," I admitted, looking at my watch. Pavel still had a few minutes to go, but I knew that it wouldn't be enough for him.

Since he had a daughter that was getting progressively older (like all people tend to do), he couldn't do the same thing that Katie and I did, which is basically spend a whole weekend naked and having sex in an almost constant basis. Instead, he would come home to his wife and lock himself in the room with her, where they'd fuck each other's brains out for an hour or two. They'd repeat the process the next day or the day after that. I tried to imagine what it would be like, if every time I had sex with Katie it was like we had just done it. I wouldn't have minded, but it would've had to be with the same regularity that we usually had.

Thunder interrupted my line of thought.

"Looks like it's gonna rain after all," I muttered. "Come on Lavvie, let's go back inside."

"It wasn't a goal," she insisted.

"Fine, but we'll finish this another time."

"Promise?"

"Promise," I said with a smile

We moved back up as I tossed the ball to Tony the soldier, who promptly stowed it inside the ammunition box and prepared for the downpour that was soon to come. I opened the door for Katie and Lavvie before we killed some time in order to let Pavel and Amber enjoy themselves. A few people asked me questions about the war while we waited. I answered all those questions with small shakes of my head and telling them that I knew nothing, that I was just a grunt and knew little to nothing about the overall state of things. It was a merciful lie.

I knocked the door for good measure and walked in, ready to yank Lavanya backwards at a moment's notice. It became obvious that Pavel and Amber had gone at it like there was no tomorrow. The slightly askew table and chairs on their backs were telltale signs of their furious lovemaking. I couldn't help but shoot them a grin of my own, one that promptly had them blushing.

After that we all sat down to talk about things. The conversation went from one place to another without really going anywhere. It was small talk, it was a good distraction from the fact that Pavel and I would have to leave and report to base in just a couple of hours. The thing that bothered me the most was, to put it in layman's terms, that I wanted to violently shove my dick inside Katie's vagina several more times before I left, but there just wasn't enough time to turn this little reunion into a sex party.

Instead I had to settle for a nice and long kiss that still left me yearning for more. It was at times like this that I missed the simplicity of single life. I shook myself away from such thoughts and gave Katie's well-formed butt a nice little squeeze that made her yelp.

"Take care of Gunny, ok daddy?" Lavvie said as she hugged her father goodbye.

"I will, sweetheart," he promised. "I already checked on him once. He misses you."

"I miss him too."

"I'll be sure to take him home so that grandma and grandpa can meet him. Sounds good?"

"Yes!" Lavvie exclaimed, considerably happier now.

"Love you, darling," he said as he kissed Amber.

"They're sweet aren't they," Katie said. "A whole family."

She looked at me and the question was clear in her eyes. Katie wanted a kid. I didn't. Well, it's not that I didn't, but I was afraid of having one for two main reasons. My father had struggled to be a good dad, eventually succeeding, at least partially. My uncle had been a terrible parental substitute, even if I did enjoy a lot of what he had to offer and knew that he tried his best. I was a mentally unstable man that was an ass even on a good day; couple that with my extended deployments and I would make for a terrible father figure. I didn't want a kid growing up with a dad like that.

"Frank…" she said. Katie usually stopped talking about this when I explained myself to her. She knew how painful it would be for me to have to leave a son or daughter for months at a time and come back for a month or two before leaving for the better part of the year. This time she didn't look away.

"When this war is over," I told her.

"I don't want to wait that long."

I leaned close to her so that Pavel's family couldn't hear. "Katie, do you really want to bring a kid into this world?"

"There's always hope for a better world, Frank, and I'm confident that our son will live in that future."

"When I see you on Earth we'll talk about it," I promised her.

I looked at Lavanya, who tilted her head and grinned broadly, showing her mixed milk and permanent teeth on her small mouth. I smiled back and she squeezed in between her parents. It was endearing how she could go from outgoing and loud to shy in such a short amount of time. She was adorable, that's what she was.

Maybe having a kid around wouldn't be so bad. Katie was an exceptional woman. We could make it work.

I smiled at Katie and she smiled back.

"Ms. Ayers," I said with a tilt of my head. "It has been a pleasure."

"Likewise Mr. Castillo," she said, raising her chin. "Please, don't go off and do something stupid."

Pavel snorted at the sound of that. "Ha! You obviously don't know him well enough."

I smiled and gave her one last kiss before Pavel and I left and went back to the real world, where things weren't coated in a nice shade of pink and people tended to die at an alarming rate.

"At least you had some time," Schitzo said, sounding genuinely sad to leave her.

I wondered why he seemed to be more in synch with my feelings as of late, no longer playing the devil's advocate or being an overall asshole to me. In all fairness, I didn't mind.

"I wonder if you would also think you're a pussy if you saw yourself from my perspective," he went on.

And there it is.

Thanks to Colonel-Commissar2468 for proofreading this chapter.

This chapter was incredibly fun and awesome to write for the following reasons: sex jokes, sex, and the ability to display a soldier during leave while a battle rages on around him. In essence, it permitted to recreate one of the breather chapters of Band of Brothers, when the men of Easy Company are sent back to friendly lines to take a break and have some drinks.

Frank did his usual thing, but I liked showing a more human side of him where he isn't just ordering people around and killing things with more violence than is absolutely necessary. It was pretty sweet having a family moment sort of thing even if Lavanya isn't exactly Frank's daughter. I don't write enough about Katie and Amber, usually glossing over filler chapters, but both of them are incredibly important to Frank and Pavel. They're basically all that they've got to fight for along with some of their surviving comrades.

Then there's a bar scene. You should know by now that I love those. The reason I had a particularly brutal barfight in this chapter may or may not be because a particular friend of mine asked me to do what you could call a backdoor pilot for him. Those two Army guys seem like an interesting pair, in particular the one that Frank almost killed. I wonder why he hates the UNSC enough to take it out on a random officer... Oh well, I guess you'll have to figure it out if you eventually. Either way, he's not my character, I just wrote this scene.

Darbinian was here. Which is good. Well, bad, technically, but you guys know what I mean. I feel like Darbinian would've been a nice protagonist for a similar story to this one. He's so much like Frank and at the same time so different. It would've been an interesting concept... oh well.

Songs for the day: Lavanya by E.S. Posthumus (for obvious reasons), Epica by Audiomachine, and Estasi del Anima by David Sardi. Enjoy.

To those of you who care (deafarcher) my profile has been updated to show the members of AAG still alive. I can't really answer your questions seeing as they would spoil the plot that I've been planning for a while now. It also feels like you've built it up so much that it might be a let down in the end. I certainly hope not.

Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter and I'm looking forward to your opinion.

Stay strong.

-casquis